Lunatic

Chapter 1.

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Chapter 1.

I stared at the wall in front of me. This white wall shows me the past. The past that still haunts me. The past that has gotten me into hospitals so many times where my family finally set me into a house full of psychotics.

"Geraldine," My name was called from behind me. My shoulder being tapped at the same time. "Dr. Rosa wants to see you,"

Dr. Rosa was my nurse along with her other six patients. She's doing this special treatment with me. Rosa is trying to make me speak again. Awful memories are full in my brain and my eyes see them like a movie film in front of my eyes, everywhere I look. The boys and girls here think I am more crazy, since I have never spoken. I've only nodded, shrugged, shook my head, pointed, and given faces. Not fun, silly faces. Faces that explain my mood without no words speaking out of my mouth.

"So Gigi. What did you eat for lunch?" Dr. Rosa asked me questions like this to have me answer them sociably. I held an apple up from my pocket. I took out a juice box from my other pocket. She sighed and put her clipboard and pen down onto her desk.

"Geraldine, you're going to have to speak again." Rosa said and I shook my head. "I can't tell you that I know what you have been through. What I can say is, the past is the past. You're not in their hands. You're in Reservoir Mental Hospital hands now. Speak please, Gigi," Dr. Rosa pleaded. I shed a tear. Their. By their, she meant my mother who never wanted me and wanted a boy. My father who said it was a shame for my mother to have a girl and my sister who overdosed right after I was released from the hospital. A normal hospital.

"You're crying." Dr. Rosa wiped the tear away that was streaming down my cheek. I shook my head. I don't cry, I shed. I don't pour out salty tears, I let one or two out once in a while. "Well, you're dismissed." I stood and walked out of her office door.

I stood still as soon as I closed Rosa's office door all the way shut. I observed the room. A boy was smashing his head lightly against the white wall in the corner. A girl that was about fifteen was playing with dolls. A boy was sitting in his wheel chair, looking dull as ever.

I might be quiet, but I'm not mad.

I walked towards the stairs, up the rooms. I knew every room in this whole house. It was a mansion really. I went inside of my bedroom and observed the odd room. Memories float out of my eyes, imagining the very first night that I was here. I cried and cried and cried and cried. I remembering look at my scars on my wrist. These weren't cut scars, not really. My mothers nails would go right into my skin whenever she was mad at me.

Regretting that I had let her scar myself, scar my life. Forever.

I remember sitting on the bed, holding my knees close to my chest, rocking back and forth as my head was hidden between. I actually cried puddles.

A burn sensation stung my throat. My eyes tremble and my eye vision gets blurry and glossy. I shed another tear. I've been in this house for three years. The manager or big boss won't let me out till I am twenty one. Depends if I act normal in his vision. If he thinks I am insane like the others, when I am twenty one. Mr. Henry Reservoir, will send me to an adult mental hospital. Reservoir. Such a scary name. I think it's French in something. I don't know. I was dropped off here when I was fourteen.

Outside of the window, I heard a car door slam shut and screaming. I look outside, a boy with rags as his clothing, and his body squirmed and struggled with the tough security that are men. This boy bit Adam on his arm, he bit Alma on her hand. He turned to run but clearly failed. The gravel of rocks outside have an ingredient in them, if you try to run, the rocks under your feet that you kick when you run, slow you down. They close the gate anyways when a visitor passes immediately.

Alma and Adam are twins. Alma is the one who always gives a new psycho patient a shot right through the vein inside of their neck when her brother, Adam, holds the patient down. Alma is very good at it perhaps. She has never missed the vein. Adam is apart of the security also. He's buff, like really muscular. Their parents died when they were eight years old. Mr. Reservoir took them in and now, Alma and Adam, know him as a father and work in his company.

Alma stabs this tan boy in the neck and injects whatever medicine, that will knock him out for an hour or so. This boy honestly looked mean. The boy with the mean look and his hair styled up but kind of messy gets slung around Adam's shoulder, once he is asleep. Adam can carry anyone.

I move away from the window and sat down on my bed. The bed I have slept on since January 26, 2011. I laid on my bed. Screaming was heard from the hallway outside my room. "I don't want too! Get off of me! I'm not like these people! Ah!" I shook my head and let out a tear.

I closed my eyes. I wasn't falling asleep. I just waited for my eyes to settle and eyelids to fall. All I saw was black in my perspective. I just didn't want to see the images of my nights with my mother and father. It was rather upsetting on the plain white wall around me. Half of the room was black because it was dark already outside and the light post outside only gleamed light half of the room.

I usually call this room that belongs to me, mine. It doesn't feel like it though. It feels like a prison cell. Somebody still resolves in this room, a haunting or maybe memories that are negative. A few people have been in this room actually, I knew that for sure. Reservoir Mental Hospital has been open for sick minded ones for ten years or so.

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