Back to Reality: Niall's Cancer Battle sequel

Chapter Seventeen: Labeled

Chapter Seventeen: Labeled

I'm shoved back into my room, a guard's hand finally releasing the death grip he had on my upper arm. I stumble into the room as he leaves quickly and slams the door closed, the metallic click following  immediately. Outside of my room I can hear the screams of the other people getting thrown back into their cells. I didn't want to consider this place a cell, but I've got to stop trying to denying that I'm in some kind of mental prison. 

I stare down at my clothes that have been destroyed by food that was thrown around. I move towards the schedule taped on the wall and read down to when I can take a shower. Apparently, there's no leaving the room unless taken out and escorted to wherever we need. I can take a shower in an hour and shortly after that is some kind of group session. I don't think I have any interest in talking to others right now. 

I sigh and sit down on the floor, leaning my back against the wall. I don't feel like getting the bed dirty as I don't think I get new sheets for that in the longest time. 

What is going on here?

I'm not going to lie when I say that the food fight was a complete adrenaline rush after I got over the initial shock. Part of me wanted to stand up with the others and create chaos, but I couldn't bring myself to do anything. I had no idea what it was started over and there's a small hunch in me that says that it won't be the last of rebellion here. This place seems to contain a lot of people that are deemed with the need for "mental help." Then again, I am also under that category. 

I was told that it would not be wise to tell others here that I had actually checked myself into the hospital. Apparently when people find out that people want to get in, even without a mental disease, they begin to lash out against that person. I would never want to be outcasted in a place like this. I have a feeling that I need friends more than ever in a place like this. 

Scar. She was the one other person in the room that made no move to participate in the food fight. She didn't even show interest. I find it quite impossible for one person to not be invited to take part in it, so I'm just going to assume she sat out out of her own free will. 

And why was I told that I should stay away from her? Was she bad? 

I shake my head and get to my feet. I'm feeling far too restless to just sit on the floor and wait for the future to hit me. I wander over towards the door try to see one of the guards that I know are on patrol. They've got to let me out if I tell them I would like to take a shower. I mean, I am human. 

"Dude, what are you doing?" I look forward and realize that my "room" faces another room. The guy across from me has jet black hair that looks strange against his white skin. I can't help but notice that he has a long scar that goes from his left eyebrow to the middle of his cheek. 

"I just want to shower. Do you think they'd let me out to do that?" 

The kid laughs and rests his arms on the barred window, giving me a crooked smile. "You're new right? That hotshot celebrity that we're supposed to not mess with?" His words shock me and I stare at him. They actually told people about me? 

"Uh, yeah? I'm Niall Horan."

"Well Niall Horan, I have a news flash for you: don't expect anyone to treat you any differently because of your social status in the outside world. In here, you're exactly like every single one of us. Delusional, idiotic, suicidal, depressed, schizo. God you name it and it's here. In here, you're a walking disease." 

"That's quite depressing," I mutter. I notice that his clothes are still completely clean, not a single trace of food has touched him. "Were you not out in the cafeteria during the food fight?"