I wasn't always like this you know. The person who had to be in a psychiatric hospital under heavy guard. These days all I can do is think, think about the days I was happy. When I didn't live each day in fear. If you even knew the half of it.
I'm River Torren. 27 years old and I have to live in the Creedmoor Psychiatric Center for the rest of my unfortunate life. It's bullshit because they think that I make up everything I've been through. That its my imagination or that I am delusional. I can assure you that what I've been through isn't a joke. It haunts me every second of every day.
I walk into the cafeteria at about 12:34 on a cold October day. The quiet is deafening. Only occasionally do you hear a real conversation, but it's mostly just the staff because most of the patients here are too fucked up in the head to hold a steady conversation. Anyways, I walk back to my room with my doctors so I can eat. I sit on my bed and wait for the flavorless mashed potatoes and gravy to reach my mouth as they feed it to me. (I mean they have me in a straight jacket so I can't feed myself.)
I finish up my meal and the doctors leave me in my room. The only things in there are a wooden chair and my bed which is always made up with white linen. I lay in silence until someone comes back into my hmmlkkroom to take me to get dinner. I hear the door unlatch and open after about an hour of staring at the ceiling. I knew it wasn't dinner time yet, so I didn't know where they were taking me. I was accompanied by a man in white scrubs to a small interview room. I was sat down and strapped to the chair for safety reasons (because apparently I'm a lunatic.) A man walks in. I don't recognize him, he's certainly not a doctor here. He's a tall black man wearing a black coat, slacks and dress shoes. I stare at him with a steady stare as he sets his briefcase down and takes his coat off.
"River Torren is it? I'm Richard Brent and I want to know exactly what you've been through, down to every last detail."
