Thomas Sanders, a new kid to the asylum at the ripe age of nineteen due to his claims of seeing ghosts.
There he meets an Italian Mob Boss with homicidal tendencies, Spanish twins - one who has intrusive thoughts and the other a prostitute both thie...
Warning: Blood near the end of the chapter, sl*t is said, b*tch is said in Spanish.
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Thomas Sanders is a nineteen-year-old teenager, who claims to see ghosts. He believes himself, as he had a conversation with his grandmother just yesterday, despite her passing three years ago.
At first his Mother had thought it was a coping mechanism, or his imaginary friends, or even his imagination, but upon seeing he wasn't calming down, he was sent to an Asylum.
Sides Asylum to be exact.
He isn't crazy, he's sure of it, and he isn't a criminal, and he's never had a violent outburst in his life, unlike all the patients here.
Yet, here he is, in an all orange jumpsuit that was dark and faded from years of use, not at all neon like all those fancy costumes, with a number on his back in thick, bold, black lettering.
His head hung low, glancing left to right nervously.
The cell doors are large and silver, clearly some form of metal - obviously Thomas what would it be? Wood? - with small bars at the top of the door, so patients could look out from their cells.
It's actually surprisingly quiet. Thomas had expected banging, screaming, yelling and crying. But, there was nothing. Not even talking-
"Hey kiddo!"
Well, Thomas spoke too soon. The new kid looked up and there behind a door, looking through the bars, was a man.
The man smiled, his blonde, naturally curled hair was slightly matted, his skin pale and freckles danced across his face, a smile that reached his baby blue eyes hidden by round glasses.
Thomas eyebrow shot up in confusion as to why this man seemed so happy in a place like this.
"Shut it, Hart!" The guard to the left of Thomas barked.
'Hart' looked to the guard and his smile left and a glare replaced his features, "or what?! You gonna kill me?! Ha, you couldn't kill me even if you wanted to!" He turned back to Thomas, his head tilting to the left, "I'm Patton Hart! Welcome to the asylum kiddo!"
"Oh, uh just Thomas please, Mr Patton." Thomas said, a shy smile on his lips.
Patton let out giggle, a friendly giggle, "just call me Patton! Mr is too formal!"
The same guard squinted his eyes, gritted his teeth and pushed Thomas forward, making the kid stumble and walk on.
"Hope to see you soon, Thomas!"
Thomas let himself smile to himself, Patton didn't seem too bad, despite the sudden attitude change.
The guards grabbed onto his shoulders and threw him into the cell, slamming it shut, the sound echoing down the quiet halls.
