Broken Minds and Broken Bottles

"Welcome To The Psycho Squad, Bitch"

"Good afternoon," a lady in her 20s or so said (she must be the therapist), "I'm glad you could fit therapy into your busy schedules." She glared at us meaningfully.

"Sorry, Ms. J. Eleanor just got here a little while ago, earlier today."

The lady nodded curtly and the motioned for us to sit down.

"Oooh, a newbie," a slim boy in the corner snickered, looking over at me.

A small girl with a brown bob did the crazy sign next to her head, motioning at him.

I smiled and said, "Me too."

She laughed. "All of us are, TBH..." she admitted.

I giggled. "I mean, obviously, to be if we're stuck in here."

The therapist-lady gave us a look. "Well, Eleanor, introduce yourself."

I took a deep breath and stood up. "H-hi, I'm well, Eleanor..." I smiled. A few people snickered. "Eleanor Crawley. And... I like horses, and... cats."

I sat down again, satisfied.

The lady gave me another look. I sighed. "Fine. My name's Eleanor Crawley, I'm 15 years old, and I'm in here because... well... I'm suicidal and kinda tried to kill myself five times, among other things."

I sat down awkwardly, aware of everyone looking at me, like they're not sure what to do. But that quickly vanished, and Ben grabbed my hand, while the brown-haired girl and a few others gave me a sympathetic look. A few people murmured, "I tried it, too" and I felt warm, even strangely accepted in my new "temporary home".

But apparently I wasn't done, because the lady gave me another look. I sighed loudly, exasperated, and stood back up AGAIN. "And I'm ALSO in here because I'm depressed, starve myself, and self-harm for fun. Oh, and also, I'm anxious and apparently, people think I'm a sociopath just because I hate humanity. Anything else I need to mention?" More people snickered this time as I sat down, and the lady shot daggers at me for a good five seconds. Then, she sighed in annoyance and said, "Guys, introduce yourselves to Eleanor, starting with you, Sami."

The girl with the bob, who must be Sami, bounced up, and then, realizing what she had to say, quickly dimmed again. "My name's Samantha, I'm also 15, and..."

"And what?", the therapist-bitch prodded.

"I like to act?"

The T-B sighed.

"Fine, I..."

"You know what, screw this," a girl with tan skin and curly brown hair said. "Leave her alone, Danielle."

"Call me Ms. Jenkins, Maya," the T-B said sharply. Just then, her phone rang. "And if you guys won't introduce yourselves in front of the class, just do it amongst yourselves while I take this phone call. I'll be back in five minutes. Don't you do anything more idiotic than you already have."

"Excuse me?" Tan Girl countered, crossing her arms over her flat chest.

"Oh please," Ms. J said with a flippant wave of her hand, dismissing her. "Like you're all just here for a nice vacation."

Ms. J strutted out of the room, and as soon as she left, Ben muttered, "Ignore her. She's a bitch. She's not the normal therapist; the usual one, Ellie, had something to go to so she couldn't come today."

"Oh, so we don't usually have the therapist-bitch?" I asked.

He laughed. "That's what you're calling her?"

"Yup, as long as she's not in the room."

I laughed along with him, the first time I'd genuinely laughed in months.

"Hey, I'm Micheal," a boy near me with side-swept blond hair and blue eyes. "Since Danielle, or Ms. Bitch, can't introduce us properly, I'll just do it for her. So here's Sami," he said, and she's bulimic and self-harms, and then..."

"Jesus christ, Michael," the tan girl said, rolling her eyes. "She can introduce herself."

"Okayyyy, Maya," Michael said, holding up his hand in peace. "I was just trying to help."

She gave him a look and rolled her eyes again, and Sami said, "I'm in here mostly because one time, I was really upset and cut too much. I was rushed to the hospital and almost died-- not that I'd have minded if I did-- and once I'd recovered (in the physical sense, of course), they brought me here." She smiled grimly and Michael gave her a few sympathetic pats on the shoulder.

"Oof, me too, partially." I told her, giving her a sad smile; I could understand these people so fucking well, it was honestly a bit uncanny.

"You mean other than the suicide at-" Michael started to say, but Ben kicked him in the shin before he could finish.

"Owww!" Michael whined, pouting.

Ben glared at him, and Maya said, "Sorry about him, he's an asshole."

"Hey!" Michael made a face in protest.

"It's fine," I said, smiling slightly. "And I can tell that's true already."

"Hey!" he cried again.

"Sorry," I smirked and looked over at Maya. When Michael wasn't looking, I mouthed "not." She smiled, mouthing "Same here".

"Anyway" Maya said, "Hazel's anorexic, she's the one right there," she pointed to an extremely thin girl with long, dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. "Ryan's depressed" she pointed to the boy with the hoodie, deep brown eyes, and side-swept jet-black hair sitting in the corner. "Michael has MPD and severrre ADHD" he makes a face and she gives him a look. "Ben's bipolar, among MANY other things, and you'll figure out the rest of them eventually." Then, she abruptly stood up, kicking out her chair from behind her, and strutted out of the room flashing a peace sign. "Welcome to the psycho squad, bitch".