Broken Smiles

Part 1

WARNING: might offend some readers (I don't mean to, if it does I'm so sorry!! Please let me know!), mental institute setting, depression, anxiety, PTSD, tourette's syndrome, character with suicidal tendencies, self harm, etc.

It had been nearly two weeks since I was checked into the Cleveland County Loony Bin. So far I was being monitored; I got limited time out of my room because they 'didn't know how I would react to others.' I hated this place. They were ridiculous, acting like I was going to try drowning myself in the toilet. I was depressed, not suicidal. There was a faint knock on my door. I had no choice on whether they came in or not, it was just a formality.

"Hey sweetheart, I've been told to move you to the east ward." Martha smiled down at me, where I sat on the bed.

"Awesome," I sighed, closing my book and following her out the door. We went down one hallway, then another, and another. I didn't try to keep track.

The east wing was where they put the patients that could, for the most part, take care of themselves. They were the ones that were fine... until they weren't. I'd fit in wonderfully. I was in room Q13, I sat on the bed, fiddling with the fraying sheets. Martha bustled around, putting new clothes into my two-drawer dresser. When finally she was done she told me the rules for this ward.

"You can leave your room whenever you want between eight a.m. and eight p.m., meals are in the commons. You will be expected at group therapy every morning after breakfast and there's options for other kinds of therapy and counseling that your doctor will want you to look into. Oh, and if anyone has any kind of, uh, emergency, you are to come in your room and sit in bed. Got it sweetheart?"

"Thanks a lot," as much as I tried to hide it, I liked Martha.

I sat in bed for a while, then I laid down. At some point I fell asleep and when I woke up it was to an insistent poking at my side.

"What the hell?" I slurred as I sat up.

"It's time for dinner. I'm your neighbor by the way, name's Mia." I rubbed my eyes and looked into Mia's face. She had dark brown hair that ended at her shoulders and deep hazel eyes that were set in pale skin. She scrunched up her face for a second and her hands shook a little. Tourette's, I thought.

"Right, I'm Charlie." I muttered, putting my hand out for her to shake but she was already turning away.

I sighed as I dragged myself off the bed and joined the rest of the ward for dinner. There was one long table surrounded by people that were similar degrees of screwed up. There was only one open seat, leaving me to sit between an amber skinned boy and a pale boy with dark hair. I kept my head down, hoping to just eat my food and go back to my room. Of course, that didn't work out.

"You're the new one, right? I'm Mason. What've you got?" Asked the boy to my left.

"Don't mind him, he's too nosy for his own good." Muttered the other boy. Whoa, he's... gorgeous.

"It's fine," I flashed a smile. "I'm Charlie, clinically depressed with anxiety, your turn." I half expected Mason to say something like 'I'm sorry, you're so strong,' but he didn't. Thank god. Instead, he smiled.

"Post Traumatic Stress."

"What about you?" I said to the beautiful boy to my right.

"I'm Nicholas, I've got uh... suicidal tendencies." He responded quietly.

"Well, I'm happy we got to meet." I muttered, catching his eye.

Nicholas smiled and returned to his food. I quietly ate my chicken noodle and returned to my room. There was a notebook on my bed with a slip of paper that read: 'Charlie, you're such a sweet girl, I know you'll do well with these other patients. Good luck, Martha.' She's amazing, I thought as I picked up the notebook to find there was no pen. I could ask Nicholas for a pen... what if he says no? I'll never know if I don't ask, but I don't wanna ask. This is ridiculous, I should just go ask him. I walked out my door, stopped and walked back into my room. Crap... I'll ask him tomorrow.