(Warning: If you don't feel comfortable with cutting, suicide, etc. I wouldn't read this story) How did I end up here, in a mental hospital? I'm not a physco, right? After all, I'm just a suicidal girl who tried to kill herself by pointing a gun to her head. I don't belong here in this hellhole. I don't want a roommate who's crazy in the head. His name is Justin Bieber, by the way. He doesn't belong here either. Justin's actually pretty normal. We're just victims of society who can't help ourselves. We're mentally fucked up. We're mentally trapped. We're Mentally Broken.