PSYCHO. Crazy. People would always come up with new ones each year. I never understood why I was the unusual one. I wasn't the only kid with imaginary friends. Eventually I began noticing why they'd laugh. I would talk to empty corners or have meals with an unoccupied chair. All of this became relevant situations in my life. Imagination and reality merged. It became aggressively difficult to differentiate my real friends from my imaginary ones, not that I had many real ones. I finally understood what they meant. Psycho. Crazy. Insane. Unnatural. These all became well known in my vocabulary. It's extremely difficult to be twenty one with more than many imaginary friends.
Utter Simplicity. That's what they called it. They played it up to be an amazing rehab facility but wow, were they wrong. Simplicity is the rehab facility I was admitted to at the age of twenty. I used to wonder how something with such a simple name could hold so much chaos behind it's doors.
Here I begin. I still remember my first time walking into the facility. I stood at the entrance, a look of curiosity and contempt was spread throughout my face. There was a slight breeze, but it was not strong enough to blow my hatred for the place away. I felt like garbage, being thrown there against my will, yet the place was so... welcoming. It was the nicest looking garbage can I have ever seen.
I enter through the lid and immediately a powerful scent of vanilla hit me. I could feel the tears forming but I quickly wiped them away and ignored the fragrance as best as I could. Pushing forward, binding my time until I made it to the front desk, I notice a man resembling a small pig. Short and stubby with beady eyes as black as beetles. There was sweat beating down his brow. Daniel was his name; at least that's what his name tag read. My first impressions of the place: I was scared and desperately wanted to go home.
Ignoring the terrifying man I reach the undeserving destination of mine.
"Hello. Welcome to Simplicity. Anything I can help you with?" I caught sight with a scrawny girl. Long, thin bleach blonde hair with sparkling blue eyes. She was unbelievably petite and small, almost like a twig. Her features were calm and fairly pretty. If only she didn't look as if the smallest gust of wind would would make her frail form flow away with it.
I stare blankly at her for a moment then finally make out,
"Hey. I'm Bethany... Thompson. My-My mother assigned me here." I fought the urge to cry. I was embarrassed.
"Thompson... Oh yes! We have been waiting for you." She rummaged through her unorganized desk and eventually found a small clipboard. The attention of hers was then turned towards her computer where she then typed what looked like my name onto her keyboard. The petite woman examined the monitor for a while making barely any movement. As I looked at her I began to notice that she looked almost concerned.
"I see it's your birthday. Happy birthday, Bethany." She turned her head and smiled, "and Hillary is the one who assigned you. Your mom?" I winced at the words. I did not loath many but my mother was certainly on top of that list.
"Yea. That's my mom." I spoke through gritted teeth speaking in spite.
After flipping through many files she reached for a tawny colored portfolio full of papers as well as a key card.
"Everything you will need is in that folder. Enjoy your stay." I throw a hesitant leer at the atypical woman.
Turning away I clutched my bag
and made my way to the elevator. The doors slide open, revealing the empty space waiting to be filled. Stepping in I began feeling excitement. I heard many stories about "mad" hospitals and in a way I guess I was thrilled for the adventures that awaited me. At the same time a type of grief filled my heart. I missed my home. I'm going to miss waking up in the morning to the smell of dew on the leaves of the trees beyond our farm. I'm going to miss the warm scent of vanilla that filled the entirety of my home. The sound of a bell returns me to reality. The doors slide open and as a result, I take a sigh and my first step into the hallway, and into my new life.
