Chapter Two

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I don't know how long I was in there.

It had been at least a week, I was sure of that. Two meals a day, delivered while I was asleep, and for every two meals is a new day.

But I didn't really give a damn how long I had been in there.

I just wanted to get out.

My head perked at the sound of locks being undone. The door slid open to reveal a nurse, standing alongside the main doctor.

I stood on shaky legs, stumbling to the door. I knew the drill. They checked my wrists; wristbands still intact. My eyes; pupils were normal. Stomach, chest, back, and legs; no new scratches. Hair and pockets; I had been taking my medication, not hiding it.

They cut my nails. I knew that I shouldn't have even bothered letting them grow out. I should have just chewed them off. They would only cut them again.

Where had I gone? The basement.

I hid out in the goddamn basement for two weeks, just to get away from everything; the medication, the checks, the doctors, all of it.

I snagged food from the kitchen every once in a while, but it's not like I ate that much, anyway.

It was just gross. The basement was utterly disgusting, and absolutely scared the shit out of me. It was dark, it was dirty, and it was vile. I knew that I wasn't the first person to ever hide out in the basement, but I'm pretty sure that I was the first to be found alive.

What made me think that?

Well it might have been the dried blood peeling away from the walls, or the pink-stained bed sheets, or the chipped floor, where it was obvious that someone had pulled apart with their hands.

Yeah. That might have had a bit of an effect on me.

"Carl Paulsen," came another nurse's voice.

So, I guess it was nighttime.

The doctor and nurse left me in the hallway, knowing that I knew what I was supposed to do. "Another freak out like that, Sam, and it will be longer next time," said the doctor over his shoulder.

I mock-saluted him, internally fearing his threat.

"Georgie Earlston," the nurse shouted. The mousy teenage boy quickly walked up, swallowed his nightly dose, and left for his room.

"Samuel Bendetti," she called. I trudged up to the counter, solemnly taking the Dixie cup she handed me, and the cup of water. I shook the Dixie cup, staring down at the rattling pills. Two blue, one red, one white, two green.

"What did they add?" I asked, raising my eyebrows in confusion.

"Nothing, dear. Just take them, and head off to bed." she replied softly.

I shook my head. "Bullshit. Last time there was only one blue, and no red."

She looked slightly shocked that I remembered that, but quickly shrugged it off. "They gave you an extra blue to help you with your…episodes. And the red is just a stronger sedative to help you sleep."

I sighed, but downed the pills anyway, washing them away with the water. I handed her the cups, and then walked off, already dreading the days ahead.

Jamie…

I groggily opened the door to my room, stumbling over to my bed as my head began to blur. God, those sedatives were strong.

Right before I drifted off, I heard a name I had never heard before.

"Mason Harpern,"

I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

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