October, 2014
Every morning I wake up in the armpit of this alien world, I really do think I'm the only logical one around here anymore. It seems that everyone here has the IQ of a lovesick teaspoon, and believe me that isn't a good thing.
Obviously I can only speak for the majority here, new kids with new problems are popping up every day. I say new problems, but they're not new at all. It's always depression, eating disorders or 'suicide attempts'. They treat taking four paracetamol instead of three as a suicide attempt around here.
For example, there's a seventeen year old girl who got carted off to this loony bin for trying to burn her school down. I don't know why anyone would want to do that, but there again I doubt anyone here would laugh at their own father's funeral.
Perhaps some of us would.
The doctors are thinking about putting me onto a higher dosage of medication because I'm withdrawn and moody. So fundamentally by that they mean; "Take these pills because I've pretty much given up on you."
And this is where the plot thickens ever so slightly, because I haven't been taking the medication. It's only been three days since I last took it, but I can already feel a difference. I'm not sure how to explain the feeling, but it's just different.
I keep the pill in my mouth and just drink the water, I have no idea how they haven't noticed.
The male nurse who hands out the meds is a world class asshole. Not only is he twice as old as my grandfather, fat and bald; he looks at me like I'm a piece of shit on his shoe. To be honest, he's old and it's about time he died.
I strolled out of my room to be met with the sight of about seven doctors crowding the room opposite mine; some of the patients were standing with their mouths slightly open watching the scene unfold before their eyes.
The doctors were shouting demands at each other but even on my tiptoes I couldn't see what was happening.
It almost felt as though I was watching this take place in third person, or maybe reading it in a book as stupid as it sounds. I spotted one of the Caiden twins, as I like to call them. I couldn't for the life of me work out which one it was, hoping it was the one who actually spoke; I made my way over.
"What's going on?" I addressed the kid who stood at almost exactly the same height as me. He jolted slightly and furrowed his eyebrows, not even making an effort to reply.
Yeah, great.
"Okay alright, don't cry about it." I rolled my eyes and he scowled in return.
Seeing as I wasn't going to get any answers out of Mr. Silent treatment over here I just left the scene and slowly walked through the common room dragging my feet like a child along the way. It was only when I got to the door when I noticed we were in the midst of a thunderstorm.
I pulled the hood of my grey Nike hoodie over my head and walked out into the storm. The wind was throwing the trees left right and centre, the rain was coming down so hard it was quite painful when it made impact with my skin. But of course, that was what made it all the more exhilarating.
I love the rain.
I could smell the scent of rain in the air, it wasn't strong- it was overwhelming. The flickering veins of lightning were enough to illuminate every crappy tree that just about stood out in the pre-evening light. The bolts of lightning worsened my mood drastically, leaving me in silence as the crackling of electricity hit the rooftop of the hospital.
The fury of the storm was incredible. I looked to my right to see a white blur of rain that cut visibility to a few feet. The rain came down at a large angle driven on by the wind. The noise of rain on the roof was so loud that I could not even hear myself think. It was strangely soothing.

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The Problem is Me [EDITED)
Teen Fictionegomania ɛɡə(ʊ)ˈmeɪnɪə,iː-/ noun obsessive egotism or self-centered-ness "Now I'm older I tend to rarely argue with my fists but believe me when I say that my words pack a powerful punch. Carefully spoken, without drama, my words have an air of fina...