Maple Glen Mental Institution

Chapter Three: Madness

All I could see was blackness. I felt like I was falling into a black hole of despair. But, then I heard it. Voices. I snapped my eyes open. I was lying on a mattress with leather restraints wrapped around my wrists, ankles, and even my torso. I was still in the same padded room. People, nurses, doctors, were crowding me. Someone stuck a needle in my arm, drawing my blood. 

My fingers felt dry. Something sticky and dry was caked on my fingers. I carefully raised my head and wiggled my fingers. What I saw reached me to one terrifying conclusion. There was dried blood on my fingers. I looked down at my nightgown. 

There were bits of blood splatter on them. I had done something horrible. I had snapped and gone completely insane. I fought against the restraints. I tasted blood in my mouth and realized one of my canines were missing. The area around it throbbed with distant pain. I tried to speak, like before I lashed out, but my jaws were clamped shut.

With a leather restraint headgear.

A metal piece of it pressed uncomfortably into the back of my head. Sure enough, I'll be sore for a while. I looked around, seeing no sign of Shelia. Her bed was lying on its side, tossed and broken. The blankets were scattered and the magazines and books were torn apart from the spine. I was immediately filled with gut-wrenching guilt.

I knew Mom had brought me here for our own sake. But, not Shelia's. I probably won't be having a roommate anymore. If Mom hadn't put me here, I would've murdered my entire family. Then, I'd become some insane, serial killer girl who was supposed to be locked up in the state asylum. But, I got here in time. But I didn't fight my insanity in time. Unprepared. My wrists and ankles ached against the restraints. The classy way of restraining a freaked out crazy person. They could've put me in a straitjacket, but then I'd be able to kick people. I guess the doctors thought twice.

"Hey, we're going to put you into a different room, 'kay?" One of the nurses told me. They took me out of the restraints and flanked me like a prisoner going to court for sentencing. They led me into the hallway. Shelia was nowhere to be seen. I thought if the employees let go for one moment, I'd make a run for it. But, what if they are allowed to Taser me? That wouldn't be pretty.

Then, we took a left turn and came to another room with a sign that read: ISOLATION. Great. I'll be isolated for the rest of my life. Nurse Jean shoved me inside, rolled my suitcase right in front of the door, making no attempt to actually come inside, and closed the door. 

She locked it, but it was locked with a keypad. I heard the beeps. I guess I couldn't use hair pins to pick locks.

 Smart. 

The room seemed to be padded with an extra layer of padding. The ceiling was made of tile, and was high enough so I couldn't be able to reach it for the next few years. The bed was a small, limp mattress with a white sheet pulled over it. 

There was no blanket. I guess that's why the room seemed warmer than the one before. There was no shelf, no books, and no extra pairs of pajamas for me. Nothing. Nothing but just me, the mattress, and my suitcase. The mattress was actually bolted to the floor and was small enough for me to unsuccessfully attempt to reach the ceiling. Maple Glen seemed pretty serious about the limits of who was crazy and who wasn't. I guess assault is going to be on my new criminal record. Or even my file for this hospital.

Maybe I'll even have to wear a straight-jacket during the visits I'll get. And the ways things are looking now, I probably won't be getting any visits anytime soon.

Around the time I was done unpacking my suitcase, Nurse Jean had come in. "You have a visitor." She replied flatly. Huh. My wishes were answered fast. I noticed she was holding some sort of clothing, only folded. She caught me glancing at it and unfolded it. "Also, you'll need to wear this." She said. Of course.

A straight-jacket.

With my arms bound by the jacket, Jean escorted me to the lobby I had once gone into hours ago. Before I met Shelia, before I was put into isolation, before I went crazy, before Mom abandoned me moments after I first stepped inside, and before I put on this revolting straight-jacket.

Sitting in the cushion chairs nearby Bryan's desk was my family.

Lucy, my sister. Jack, my little brother, and Mom and Dad. They all were sitting in the lobby. I could tell they were tense. They had heard what I had done to Shelia. Lucy winced when she saw me in the jacket. Everyone seemed to wince. Jean nodded and left, heading back to the 1st floor ward. I wonder what'll happen if I'm sent to 3rd floor ward isolation. Electrotherapy? Torture? I seriously didn't want to know.

Lucy slowly stood up, bracing herself like I'd attack. It was a bit offensive, but she knew what I had done. I knew too. Shelia knew. Dad knew. Everyone knew what happened. Everyone, including the third floor patients, in the entire asylum knew what happened.

Lucy stared at me. A tear ran down her cheek. "I miss you so much." She whispered. I couldn't help myself to smiling.

Then, my vision started getting fuzzy.

Oh crud.

I backed up. The blurry outlines of my family stood up. Went closer to me. I lost my power of speech. All that came out was something horrible. Garbled. Lucy reached out for me. I knew they were going to be afraid of me. Recoil if they ever visit me again.

I pulled harshly against the jacket that bound my arms. The intensity sparked inside me. I screamed something horrible. Garbled again and speechless. Like I was speaking something of an unknown language. My family recoiled.

Jean should've never left me unsupervised.

Then, my vision winked out again. My unconscious attacks spiraled out of control once again.

In the inky blackness the second time, I heard the familiar voices. Some were unrecognizable. I opened my eyes. I was in the straight-jacket. Restrained at the torso and ankles. I wore the leather headgear that clamped my jaws shut. I wasn't on a limp mattress. I was in a reclining chair. Just like the ones at the dentist. Except this one didn't have the head wrapped in sticky plastic. The room was padded, and so was the floor. But it was more stable. More smooth for people to walk on.

I heard Lucy's pleading voice. Lucy? "No! I need to see her!" She cried out. She wanted to see me? While I was in such a condition? After I probably attacked her? I heard Nurse Jean's voice, but it was so calm, I honestly had no idea what she was saying. I heard loud stomping, and the stomping got closer. The doctors who were poking and prodding at me cleared a path. Lucy came right beside me.

Her face was raked and had clean white bandages on the wounds. Her hair was a mass of tangles, and she had a sling on her left arm. The hand she writes with.

I had done this to her.

I actually started crying. I was so ruined by the guilt. I had assaulted my roommate and now my family. But the look on Lucy's face told me that I hadn't lost her trust. Even though I still have Lucy's trust, I might even get a restraining order. Or just be sent to the 3rd floor ward isolation, never getting any visitors. Having cafeteria meals privately while an armed guard stood at my side. I tried to apologize through clamped teeth, but I lisped out the words instead. Lucy shushed me. "No need." I told her that I had hurt her and our family. Lisped again.

Someone in a white suit took Lucy by the arm. She tried to shake him off, but he had her in a firm iron grip. She clawed at his arm, but he started tugging her away. "You aren't supposed to be here!" He said. He had a name tag, and the tag read: BRYAN.

It was Bryan.

I lisped out his name, and he and Lucy stopped struggling. He looked at me. Let go of my sister's arm. He knew how dangerous I could be. Even though I was strapped down, I was horribly dangerous. I wasn't some self-conscious girl sitting silently in a lobby. I was an insane girl who was lying, strapped down, in an asylum. Bryan huffed and left the room, stomping. So much for my insanity. Lucy was herded gently to the back of the room, for the sake of her own safety. Nurse Jean injected a needle into my arm. I didn't slowly fall asleep, or anything.

I went right out.