Fantastic Bastards In Monroeville (Frerard)

One

"We're almost there," an EMT told me a little too happily as he drove me in an ambulance, my body strapped down in a gurney. I didn't say a fucking word. I haven't said anything since I tried to end my own life, and failed miserably. Mikey came home and found me on the floor...and saved my goddamn life against my wishes, the bastard. Now I'm here in the back of this fucking ambulance coming from the hospital, taking me to a fucking loony bin. This is what my failure to kill myself resulted in, and now more than ever, I wanna fucking die. Not only am I without Lindsey, but I'm also to be taken to a place for psychopaths, where I'll be locked away for god knows how long. Thanks, Mikey.

I can barely remember anything since I tried to kill myself. I don't remember being resuscitated back to life, or rushed to the hospital. In fact, my whole stay at the hospital was nothing but a blur to me. I remember seeing Mikey and my parents, but that's all. I don't remember how they were when they saw me in my hospital room. I don't remember what I ate, or if I even ate anything at all. I hope I didn't, thought. Eating makes you fat, and that's the last thing I need to be, more than I already am. I don't remember talking to a psychiatrist, or if I even spoke at all. But here I am, being sent to a psychiatric hospital by a shrink's orders, and against mine. I cursed inside my mind, cursing out Mikey's name for fucking saving me when I didn't want any of that. Why did he have to save me? Why did he have to call 911 to have the goddamn EMTs resuscitate me? Why did he care? I'm nobody special. I'm just a fat, pathetic excuse of a human being with a weight problem and a girlfriend who left him forever because of it.

"We're here!" the EMT sang in that stupid childish voice he's spoken to me this whole time throughout the ride. I wish he would just shut up. He knows I'm not gonna talk, and never have since that day I almost died. "Let's get you outta here, okay?"

Shut. The. Fuck. Up. Please.

The EMT got out from the ambulance once he parked and opened up the back door with his partner of work, and pulled my body on the gurney out. As they wheeled me out, I looked around, finding myself in a parking lot near a brick building surrounded by neatly-kempt plantation, all the windows barred and blocking the outside world I'm soon to be hidden from. I looked over to the large sign near the building, reading it--

Monroeville Psychiatric Hospital, established 1895.

So that's the name of the place, huh? This is the name of the place I'm gonna be stuck in with a bunch of schizos and addicts? That's just fucking dandy. Oh boy, I can hardly wait! I sighed deeply as the EMTs wheeled me in through the front doors and into a large white lobby, with a lady at the front desk who looks like she's been waiting for my arrival, paperwork in her hand.

"This is the new admission?" she asked the EMTs, pointing a manicured finger to me.

"Why yes, it is," the EMT with the overly-happy voice replied with possibly the fakest smile I've ever seen on anyone. The lady at the desk smiled as well, her's just as faux and empty.

"Welcome, Mr. Way. We'll take you upstairs," she said, handing the EMTs the paperwork and guiding them to the elevator. I wanna punch their faces clean of those shit-eating grins. I hate smiling. The lady and EMTs took me up to the fifth floor, where I was greeted by a hallway leading to a locked room with a buzzer next to it. The lady pressed the button and spoke into the box, announcing my arrival to the other person beyond the door. We waited a few minutes before the door opened, revealing the hell I'm soon to be dumped into, with another lady standing in the doorway. She looks pretty young, like somewhere in her mid to late twenties. She also appears to be a nurse here or something, seeing the white scrubs she's wearing, contrasting against her red-orange hair. She welcomed us in, the EMTs wheeling me inside and lowering the gurney before they released me from it and left. The door behind me closed shut, forever entrapping me in this godforsaken place. Released from the gurney I've been strapped up in, I stretched a bit, looking around my new "home". Everything is white. Too white. Not just the walls and the scrubs of the nurses, but also the gowns of the wandering patients, as well as the furniture. It's a white that stings my eyes, making me squint in pain. This place is a white hell. Now I have a good enough reason to hate white.