Mentally Broken

3

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Chapter song: Tearing in my Heart by Sunny Day Real Estate
(Mia's pov)
-Thursday, 6am-
Ugh, what happened? Where am I? Why is my head hurting?
"I'm no good. I'm bad. I'm no good. I'm bad. I'm no good. I'm bad," a male voice speaks, to me? Instantly hit with realization, I shoot my eyes open and sit up to see a hooded boy muttering to himself while tracing circles on his bed with his finger.
"I'm no good. I'm bad. I'm no good. I'm bad," he keeps repeating in a hushed tone. Confused and fazed, I study the room to see nothing but emptiness. All I see are two small beds on either side of the room, a dim light above us, and a caged window with bulletproof glass. There's an additional nightstand and a box of tissues. No. It can't be. I'm in a mental hospital. No.
"Hey," I nervously call out to the teenage boy. He doesn't seem to notice me, because he continues muttering and drawing imaginary circles on his bed.
"Hey. Hey!" Needy for an answer, I raise my voice and wave my hand to get his attention.
"I'm no good. I'm ba...." he stops muttering and turns frozen, completely motionless.
"Hey," I try again, more quietly this time. This is kind of creeping me out. Plus, I'm so lost and scared.
"Do you know what's happening?"
I ask numbly only to find that I'm talking to myself. The boy is so motionless that I get a little freaked out. Is he ok?
"I'm no good," he mutters to himself but doesn't move a muscle. I sigh hopelessly. This guy isn't helping. My body is a little weak when I stand up and walk up to him fearfully.
"Hey...can you help me out here?" I get a closer look as I approach him. He's actually pretty cute. He has a black hoodie on with gray hospital pants. His hair is a pretty golden brown, like a combination of a bliss milk chocolate with a tempting golden caramel swirled in.
"Hey," I lightly touch his arm. Suddenly, he tautly grips my arm and snaps his head to look at me. I gasp and jump in shock. When I look at him, I notice that his eyes are very beautiful. Damn. But as I get a closer look, his eyes are dead cold and filled with madness. Hs lips are an attractable plump pink. His skin is shivering cold, and he seems like he's dangerous.
"Who are you?" he breaks eye contact to look at his bruised knuckles. Why are they bruised?
His voice is gravely yet dreary.
I-I'm M-Mia. I'm a little c-confused. W-what's happening?"
I stutter in fear. Is he gonna murder me?
"I'm no good," he mutters again. I can sense hate in his expression, the kind of hate that I feel for myself.
"Well, y-you seem ok to me." And he looks pretty good too. He gives me a long, eerie stare with his damaged eyes searching my mind.
"Mental hospital. I'll help you."
Is all he says.
"Thank you...What's your name?" I feel his grip tighten on my self inflicted wrist.
"I'm bad," he mutters unhappily with narrowed eyes.
"No, your name?" I correct him; then see a name tag sticker on his hoodie.
"Justin," I read out loud, hearing the word come out of my mouth. His handwriting is sloppy for a 18-19 year old boy.
"Well, it's nice to meet you, Justin," I tug on his grip but he tightens it again, making my teeth clench. "Uhm, you have my arm," I whimper a bit and give him a anxious look.
"Put on only the clothes by your bed. Leave your jacket on," he lets go of my arm, and I run my fingers over the cold hand mark. On my bed there's a stack of folded clothes. Green hospital shirt and green hospital pants. Great. (note to sarcasm)
"Wait, just the clothes?"
Do I have to take off everything?
"Under garments," Justin mutters and continues tracing circles on the bed. Do I change in front of him? There's no bathroom. This is insane.
"Uhm, where do I change?"
I'm blushing fiercely, because of the whole situation.
"...Here," Justin murmurs as he continues to draw on his bed. I mentally sigh. This is torture. Self consciously, I take off my black jacket and nervously slide my shirt off.
Every so often, I sneak a few glances at Justin to make sure he isn't some pervert or anything. He's too busy drawing circles on his bed.
By the time I finish changing, I see him still minding his own business.
"Take the sticker. Write your name," he mutters an order, but I don't think he means it in a bossy way.
"Ok," I find a sticker and a black sharpie, then write my name on it. I stick it on my jacket, then sit on my bed. Finally, I put my head in my hands and force myself not to cry.
"Time for breakfast!" A lady—I think she's a nurse—calls for us. Justin stands, so I do too.
When I walk out of the room, I see a lobby that looks like a hospital. There's a big desk planted in the middle.
I see other patients walking the same director we are. Since I don't know anyone else, I follow Justin as he mutters blankly to himself. We enter a large room that sort of looks like a cafeteria. There are other people inside here, who I guess have mental disorders too. Are they crazy? Psycho? Murderers? Cutters? Masochists?
Justin and I wait silently in line for lunch, which I'm mostly likely going to reject.
"I'm terrible. Blood everywhere. I'm terrible. Blood everywhere. I'm terrible." Ok, that's scary. Is Justin ok? Well, of course not if he's in a mental hospital.
When I reach the end, I grab an apple. That's all. I follow Justin to an empty table and sit in front of him. I hope he doesn't isolate me, like everyone else does. I hope I don't annoy him.
I'm not gonna eat this apple. It's disgusting, and I don't want to eat anything. Biting my lip, I search the room. People are talking to themselves, acting strange, laughing to themselves, and doing all these these crazy things.
I catch someone staring at me, and to my surprise, it's a boy, another cute guy. He's trying to cut his tray with a plastic knife as he gives me a ominous stare. Feeling too nervous, I quickly turn back around to stare at my red apple.
"You don't like it,," Justin breaks my thoughts with his groggy voice.
"No..." I shake my head insecurely.
"...So what do we do all day?" Pulling on my sleeves, I ask shyly. He shrugs, his lips pouting a little. Well, that doesn't really tell me anything, but it's cute.
"Oh, hi, are you new here?" a girl about my age greets me in an enthusiastic manner.
"Yeah," I nod, confused about the girl in front of me. She has jet black hair and bright green eyes that remind me of springtime. Her lips are pouty, and she has a positive attitude.
"I'm Katie, by the way," the girl, Katie, gives me a friendly smile.
"I'm Mia. It's nice to meet you," I give her the best smile I can, which isn't much. These days, I can't really give much to people at all. I've already lost myself, years ago.
"Oh, and this is Justin, if you don't know him yet," Katie smiles at me and Justin. She seems so happy. How?
"I know. He's a big help," I give Justin a weak smile and he does the same to me.
"He's very sweet if you get to know him," Katie motions to him. I take it that Justin doesn't like to be touched. He likes personal space. That explains why he seemed upset when I touched his arm earlier.
"I bet he is," I meet his caramel brown eyes and smile, more lively this time.
"Well, if you have any questions, just ask me," she strolls away before I can even ask a question. Justin grins at that. It's the happiest I've seen him since I got here, and I'm pretty sure it's the happiest he'll ever get.
"Ok then." Trying to force happiness, I smile in return. Then Justin gets up to get something. He returns with a couple pieces of paper and two pens. I guess one of them is for me. He starts drawing, so I start drawing too. We start to draw random things. I doodle some hearts and practice writing with my left hand. Justin shyly slides a piece of paper to me. I see a vase with flowers in it and my name on it. It's a pretty  nice drawing.
"For me?" I blush fiercely and Justin nods silently. He's an amazing drawer.
"Thank you, Justin," I smile then begin to draw something for him as well. I draw a heart and shade it in; then I slide it to him. It's the best I can do. He smiles appreciatively and stuffs it in his hoodie pocket.
"I like you." Murmuring, he starts to draw squiggly lines on the table.
"I like you too," I mumble with a crooked smile.
"Oh, Justin. Not again," a nurse approaches us and takes the pen away from Justin. He twitches his lips into a sad position, like he knows he can't help it. It makes me want to hug him.
"Here, take your medicines," the nurse hands both me and Justin a set of pills. One is pink, one is blue, one is white, and one is red. Whatever this is, it'll help me numb down, so I take the pills. The nurse watches as Justin and I take our pills. I guess some idiots don't take their medicine.
"Do you like to draw?" I ask Justin. He wordlessly nods and narrows his eyes.
"You have very pretty eyes," I compliment him, taking notice of how flawless his eyes are.
"Thanks," he purposely looks at me to let me see his amazing eyes.
"Alright, let's get going!"
A female voice calls demandingly. Justin stands up, so I stand up too.

(A/N: I know I've been so inactive. Im so sorry about that. Im trying to write as much as possible whenever I have free time. Next post is on Saturday)

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