|| M E N T A L || h.s

I

"Onoskelis"
Amira walks up to the counter and retrieves her pills, continuously studying the cylinder cup holding the pills. Suddenly, she begins to lick every single pill individually, looking into the eyes of the nurse on the other side. The man's eyes widen as his chest begins to rise up faster by each pill that gets licked. He coughs awkwardly to get the troubled girl to stop so he wouldn't have to go to the bathroom and clean the mess she'll make.
A nurse nearby sees all the commotion and scolds the red faced man for being so inappropriate. Amira proceeds looking over the counter to see that the mans member is also, very much, aroused. She found this hilarious and began to laugh uncontrollably, so hard that she threw her pills straight into the mans face.

     More Nurses came by to escort her back to her room but Amira didn't want to. She began to fight back the nurses coming her way, punching one and kicking another, while still laughing like no tomorrow.
One of the nurses had enough and slapped her straight across the face then plunged a gigantic needle into Amira's throat that seemed to calm her down. Amira's laughter began to die down and her whole entire body became limp.
The nurses dragged her back to her room then threw her onto her bed.

"Jesus, I hope one day she never wakes up." A nurse breathed.

"Tell me about it, she's too hot to be this crazy." The other nursed added.

They both laugh and made their way down the hall full of other mental patients, Amira's eyes finally coming to a close.
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     Light shines through the squared window, making the white pale walls a soft shade of yellow. Her eyes flutter open as her mind begins to remember yesterday's events, making her giggle.
Amira wiggles out of bed and heads over to her desk that is located across the room from her, the sun rays casting a glow over it.
She scrummages through her crafts and pulls out a pair of scissors. Walking back to her bed, Amira sits down and drags the knife against her pale thigh, marking off another day she has wasted here.

     A sudden knock came from the door, making the bleeding girl jump in surprise. She tucks the scissors under her blankets and makes her way to the door. Turning the knob, Amira opens the door to her assigned nurse, Janice. "Hello Amira, ready for your schedule?", Janice says way to nice for Amira's liking. Amira rolls her eyes and rips the schedule off of the annoying girl's hand.

8:00-9:00| Breakfast| 205

9:05-10:05| Laundry| 134

10:10-11:10| Arts and Crafts| 113

11:15-12:15| Culinary | 200

12:20-1:20| Lunch| 150

1:25-2:25| In-depth support group| 210

2:30- 3:30| Afternoon check up| 173

3:35-5:35| Movies| 166

5:40-6:40| Therapy| 169

6:45-7:00| Free time| 125

7:10- 7:40| Shower| 210

8:00| Bedtime | 173

     She studies her scheduled therapy session confusingly. "Why is my therapy session at 5:40, I thought I had it at 6:45 with Ms.Eisenhower?", Amira questioned angrily. She actually liked Ms.Eisenhower, but only for the reason of the old lady falling asleep half of the time, allowing Melanie to leave early. Janice looked a bit annoyed by the girl's attitude but still managed to give her a nonchalant smile. "Ms.Eisenhower is at a hospital for food poisoning. Which now that I think about it, happened right after your appointment with her..hmm strange...", the nurse said sarcastically. "Hmm...yes very strange.", Amira wickedly smirked.

"You will begin to have your therapy appointments with Mr.Styles.. he's new so uhh don't scare him off like the one before Eisenhower okay?", Janice said, her voice laced with uncertainty. Amira's eyebrows furrowed as she heard of her new therapist's name, her mind coming up with a bearded old man who dresses like some sort of pimp. Her body somehow turned on by the thought. "Wow I really need to get laid.", She thought.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     After watching The Sign of the Cross, for the tenth time this month, it was time for Amira to go to therapy. She was kind of excited to see who her new therapist was and how to get rid of him. While thinking of things that are flammable in the therapy room, Janice began to walk alongside her. The last time Janice had trusted Amira with walking alone she was sucking a nurse off so she could steal his keys, so of course there was no way in hell she would let her walk alone again.

Finally, Amira and Janice made it to room 169, a mahogany door hiding the answer to Amira's curiosity. Just as Janice was about to knock, a young man with long curly hair opened it, his eyes immediately connecting with Amira's. " Is Mr.styles in there ? I want to get this over with." Amira announced annoyingly. Janice slapped Amira's shoulder, "Stop being rude, that is Mr.Styles!" The girl rubbing her hurt shoulders squinted her brown eyes and looked the therapist up and down. "Why aren't you old?", she questioned.

"Why do I have to be?", he replied effortlessly, a hint of a smile coming its way.

"I can't wait to see how this goes." Amira replied sarcastically, already bored.

    After their small banter, they both looked at Janice who was practically drooling on Mr.Styles's feet. "Janice.", Amira said snapping her fingers in the nurse's face. Snapping out of her trance, the nurse bids goodbye and awkwardly walks away. Mr.Styles put his focused, once again, on Amira.

"Amira Onoskelis correct?", Mr.Styles questioned.

Amira didn't answer at first. She just stared at him, his eyes specifically. Amira always adored green eyes, she wondered how wonderful they would look on her.
Walking up to the intrigued man's ear, Amira whispered, " That's me", biting his ear in the process.

    Shocked, Mr. Styles couldn't find a type of reply. He was, for the first time in a long time, at a loss for words.

"May I come in, Mr.Styles?", Amira asked nicely, still managing to keep up her innocent act.

The therapist's throat suddenly felt like a dry desert, so instead just nodded, no words being able to leave the poor man's mouth.

Feeling very satisfied, Amira brushes by Mr.Styles then walked inside, intentionally making her thigh graze against his fingers in the process.