Monster

Chapter Five - Officially Crazy

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That. Was. Horrible. I just had to go to one of the most retarded counselors in the history of the Earth. And I’m in a mental hospital. The tears almost came, but I stopped them. I felt the screams of claustrophobia start to kick in. I didn’t know how long I had been in this padded white cell. A minute? An hour? Maybe a day? A whole entire year? There was no clock, no nothing. Just white pads. Everywhere. I opened my mouth, preparing for a scream. Then a small pad slid off the wall holding…food. My mouth watered, even though it was only oatmeal, a banana and a cup of water. No, actually, a padded cup of water. You know, just in case I try killing myself. I scurried over to the wall and hastily devoured the bland oatmeal. Even the banana was tasteless. And then the door opened.

               Oh, great. The therapist. He smiled at me and said,

               “Hello, Drew! I’ll be helping you through your journey—“ I abruptly cut him off, my voice a whisper, and said,

               “How long? How long has it been?” He looked at me with a questioning stare, but then said,

               “You’ve been here for one week. Now, come with me.” I followed him down the same hallway again, thanking Dr. William for not being so cheery and treating me like a two-year-old like last time. We sat down in the same room, in the same chairs. Everything the same.

               “Tell me, Drew, do you get easily mad?” This time I wouldn’t be so sarcastic to him.

               “Yes…”

               “And do you know a Tiffany Shay?” My stomach turned over. Tiffany. My “best friend” (not) who I had killed.

               “Yes.”

               “Do you know…what happened to her?” My voice was a murmur as I replied to his question, saying,

               “I killed her. I killed her. She’s…she’s dead.” I was sobbing now, and before Dr. William could say anything, I started explaining.

               “I didn’t mean to. I really didn’t. I…well, I’m a Monster. A bad thing. I don’t know what. But…my eyes turn red…when it happens. I go crazy. I just can’t help myself. If the change happens in the daylight, I can stop it. It takes a tremendous amount of energy, and I faint. That’s why I was in the hospital in the first place. I had fainted at my school. But, uh, about three times a week, I, um…kill someone.”

               The doctors face was a shade lighter than white and his eyes were bulging out of his head. And I just realized what I had done. I had just proven myself to be a psychotic killer. Someone that belonged in this place.

               “Huh? I, um, I well…you…uh…” He was totally lost. And then he smiled and said,

               “Why don’t you go back to your room? I…uh, I have to make a phone call…” He didn’t even walk me back to my “room.” But I obeyed and slowly walked back to my room, this time noticing that each door had a small camera outside that looked into the room—with people. In each one was a person; an old lady with no hair, a middle-aged woman missing all teeth…and in one was the unspeakable. A little girl, not older than eight. She had almost-white blonde hair and sad blue eyes that made you want to cry for her. She looked so small in the oversized orange suit. Obviously they hadn’t been prepared for a little girl. Then she looked right at me, as if she could see the camera. Her stare chilled me to the bone, but was soon broken when Dr. William walked up behind me.

               “What do you think you are doing?!?” He pushed me back into my cell and locked the door. I felt the screaming coming on, but this time I stopped it. So I just curled up in a ball, welcoming sleep.

               The door opened. Again. I was now used to this boring-as-heck routine. Food. Therapy. Food. Therapy. And now that the doctor was convinced I was crazy, I don’t think he was really giving me his best “counseling methods.” But this time it wasn’t the doctor, not anything like him. It was a boy, about my age with shaggy black hair wearing skinny jeans—Cam. The love (only love) of my life that goes to my school and doesn’t know that I am here. And that I try not to every think about because you never know who might be able to read minds. Crap.           

               “Drew? What the heck are you doing here?” My face immediately blushed, reacting to his sweet, sweet voice that I think just saved my life. But, along with the blush, my guards went up, too—whenever he talks to me, I try to pretend that I don’t like him, at all. Which is probably why I’ve never dated him before.

               “I could ask the same about you.” Crap! My hair was probably a mess, and I wasn’t wearing make-up, and I was wearing an orange jump suit. And I just did the “being rude to him thing.”CRAP.

               “Um, well, do you live here? Because all the kids at school said you went to the hospital and never came back and then we heard you parents died and all of this crazy shiz was happening…are you OK?” He sounded so concerned…as if he cared about me. When I was in middle school I used to cry after all the dances because he would dance with other girls, but never me.

               “Don’t worry, I’m not crazy. It’s just that…I got out of control when my mom and dad died—I um, kind of used to cut myself…this is kind of a recovery place, I guess. Not that I want to be here. So why are you here?” I didn’t feel bad about lying. I just wanted him to hug me. Or hold my hand. Or maybe kiss me. All three would make my day.

               “Oh. Well, my grandmother is here, but I haven’t seen her in so long I forgot where her cell—I mean, room, is.” And then the most wonderful, awesome and somewhat depressing revelation came to me: I would never get Cam. And I would be here forever. But I could say anything to him. Including that I love him with all my heart and have for ten years.

               “Cam, I think I’m in love with you.” The words came spilling out of my mouth without my brains decision. But my heart was all for it.

               “I, uh—what? Um.” He slowly backed away from me and out of the door. And then It happened. Everything started spinning. Redness. Kill. Red blood, kill. The door is closing… nothing. There is no one. No one. No one. Get out, get somewhere, something...

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She scratched at the walls, yelled, kicked screamed. Dr. Williams watched through the hidden camera in horror as she threw herself into the wall over and over again. She is beautiful, almost like she’s dancing…Dr. Williams thought. And then she broke through the door, and was suddenly in the hallway where he had been watching her.