Mad as Rabbits (Ryden)

1

"Fuck you, I'm not crazy and I'm sure as hell not going to some fucking psychiatric facility!" I nearly screamed. Who the fuck does she think she is to try and send me to some crazy house? Dr. Newman never liked me anyways. I'm sure this was all part of some elaborate plan to make my life miserable. I stood to leave the room. I didn't need to hear this from her.

"Brendon please sit back down." She said calmly. Why was she always so calm? She continued to talk but instead of listening I just continued walking towards her door. "Please sit back down. I don't want to call your parents again."

I stopped. Damn it, I was almost to the door. I walked back to my seat in the chair across from hers. "I don't see why you want me to go. There's nothing wrong with me."

She sighed before taking off her glasses and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Brendon we've been over this already. You and I both know what you did and I know you don't want me to bring it up again. I think this is what's best for your treatment and your parents agree." My parents? She already talked to my parents? "They already decided that you're going, end of discussion."

"But don't they know- don't you know that I'm not crazy?" Surely she can't think I'm crazy, with all of those degrees on the wall behind her she must know better. Unless I was right all along and every single one of those degrees is fake. I don't think she's a real doctor.

A sad and frustrated look crossed her face. Like she was trying to explain something to a child for the ninth time. "You're not crazy." Well no shit. That's what I've been trying to tell you for the past twenty minutes. "You're just sick. But I think you'll get better with proper treatment."

"And you think a loony bin is the best place for that?" I asked.

"Brendon, it's not a loony bin, or a crazy house. It's a psychiatric facility and yes I think it will help you get better. There are lots of doctors there that will be able to help you."

"Well that's nice but there's no way I'm going." I said before walking out of her office, ignoring her pleas to come back and threats of calling my parents. There's no way I'm going. I'll just convince my parents to let me stay. They'll believe me when I say I'm not crazy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Turns out my parents aren't as persuasive on the matter as I thought. "Brendon your father and I are just worried about you. After what happened at-"

"So worried that he couldn't even bother to come say goodbye?" I asked, cutting her off. Of course the asshole didn't want to come. He always tried to avoid or hide anything that would give him bad publicity. He was running for some government job, that I couldn't be bothered to remember, and if anyone saw that his "perfect American dream family" wasn't so perfect then he would lose votes. Or at least that's always what his manager said.

My mother sighed "Honey, he cares. He was just really busy with work. He's going to miss you while you're gone." Yeah I'm sure.

Before we could say anything else about the matter, the car pulled up outside the large brick building, a large sign near the door read White Valley Psychiatric Facility in large bold letters. She killed the engine and we both got out, grabbing my bags and walking into the large building.

We walked up to the counter where my mother was handed a clipboard of papers. I sat with hew while she filled them out and after about twenty minutes of watching her fill out forums it was time to say goodbye. I'm not big on the heartfelt goodbyes so it was mostly her. "Hey, try to be positive about this, okay? You're finally going to get the help you need and your father and I will come visit as soon as possible." I muttered an okay before we exchanged I love you's and then she was gone.

A nurse then led me down a series of hallways up to a large door. She swiped a card and entered a pin before the door opened. I then went through an hour long praises of getting admitted. They basically did the same things they do when you go in for a regular check-up, except this wasn't a regular check up. After they finished checking me they gave me back most of my belongings. The same nurse then led down another series of hallways, doors lined each side but she stopped at one near the end. "This is going to be your room." She said with a fake yet friendly smile. I knew that smile. I'd seen it before. Its the same one my father uses at conferences and interviews to speak to the press. But I, unlike them,  see past it's fakeness. Before she goes she hands me a schedule with various times and activities written next to than. Great, this place gets to hold me captive and plan my life. The room is small and much like a college dorm. There are two beds, one in each corner, small dressers next to the beds and a closet.

I read over it quickly, noting that now is a free time but I have group therapy in an hour and the a meeting with my therapist an hour after that. I just cross my fingers that this new therapist isn't as bad as Dr. Newman. I hate Dr. Newman. I know she's secretly hates me. I don't know why but I know she has something against me and that's why she put me in this nut house.

I leave my room after unpacking some of my stuff and go out to the community area. As soon as I walk out there I notice that it's not that different from an average High School. There are different cliques sitting around the room talking, reading, drawing and some are playing board games. Of course I don't know anyone so I settle for picking a book off the large bookcase in the corner and sitting in a small armchair near the shelf.

Time seems to fly by here because it felt like after just minutes a nurse was telling me I needed to go to my group therapy. The room was set up like it always is in the movies and books. A circle of chairs, each filled with various patients, who's problems I'll have to hear about. I chose a seat where I'd be able to see the one small clock in the room.

And as if all of this was taken out of some cliché movie, we went around the circle saying our name and the Doctor, who I learned is  a middle age woman named Dr. Fisher, asks us if we want to share anything. She starts with a guy who's probably around my age, but doesn't look it because he's so skinny. "Hi, I'm Tyler." He introduces myself. After being asked if he wants to share anything he shakes his head and the circle continues.

I'm mostly surprised by how many of these people look like they're the same age as me. Then once it's my turn I tense up. Fuck, I didn't even think about what I was going to say. "Um, I'm Brendon." I say.

"Do you want to share anything today Brendon?" She asks in a friendly voice. I shake my head. "Come on, it's your first day. You don't have any thoughts you want to share?" She prods. God, why does this woman want me to talk so bad. I shake my head again and she sighs before moving on.

The rest of group goes by slowly and I swear to god time stood still when some guy, I think his name was Patrick, told a story about how he was some prophet and he was the only one who could save the world, which would end in exactly 37 days, 9 hours and 24 minutes. I found that one hilarious. But now that this is over I can go back to my room and finish unpacking before I have my next therapy appointment.

When I enter my room again I'm surprised to see someone else in the room. I figured that I didn't have a roommate due to the lack of clothes in the closet and the emptiness of the rest of the room. He sat on the bed opposite of me reading a book. When I stepped further into the room he looked up and smiled. "Hey, you're Brendon right?" I nodded. "They said you'd be coming today. I'm your roommate, Ryan." He said, extending his hand for me to shake. I took it and he flashed me another smile before turning back to the book he was reading.

~~~~~~~~~~

So I was getting bored writing Falling Too and I've had this idea for a little while so I'm going to try writing for it. I really dig this idea so I hope I can execute it well. Also, I'm not sure if I should put trigger warnings on this fic for mentions of mental illness, suicide, etc..

Thanks for reading! Comment, vote and all that Jazz if you liked it.