First Prescription: Hi, my name is...
"Hi, my name is Lily Mitchell, and I have a tendency to think about suicide..."
The druggie, cutters, rapists, thieves, gang bangers and other radicals looked at me like a normal bored group of teens and young adults as they droned out 'Hi Lily.' with little enthusiasm.
"Thank you Lily, who's nex-"
"And homicide." I finished, cutting off Ms. Ovila's 'cheerful' attitude.
"...excuse me?" She asked, her expression a bit shocked, a twinge of fear in her shallow hazel eyes that made me sick when she tried to smile and look understanding of our situation.
"Homicide, killing other people. It's a habit of mine when people piss me off. My stomach ties in knots, head pounds, heart accelerates...and I imagine myself killing them in some way that compares to how they pissed me off." I said, my knuckles going white as I gripped at the podium I'd been pushed up to, my mind reeling with the reason I'd been put in here in the first place. In this asylum.
"Okay well I'm sure that will be something interesting to talk about in Group. I think Tyler is nex-"
"Like this one boy, Bobby," I began, leaving her attempt to get me down as though she were a lone buzzing mosquito in my personal bubble. "He just didn't know how to shut his mouth, even in class!" It drove me insane. One day in class, in front of all our peers in my English class, he stepped far over the line with a 'witty' comeback." I used air quotes as though they were needed; I'm sure the sarcasm and hate drenching the word was enough.
"So at the end of the school week at the football game when he was alone I knocked him out. Finding a place to tie him up away from prying eyes or nosey neighbors was easy, getting the tools I needed for his downfall, not so much. But I did get my hands on the necessities, the things I would absolutely have to have." A few of my fellow twisted and netally insane peers were scared, most of them putting up a stoic facade; but their eyes gave me all the awe and curiousness I needed to coninue.
"I'm sure when he woke up after the blow to his head he thought he was being Punked, maybe on the set of a new SAW movie. He was wrong. After I injected him with liquid adrenaline, or speed as most of you know it, I waited for him to freak out at the tinest movement of a shadow. And then, then I came at him with a huge-a** pair of pliers and took off his jaw; skin and muscle, the whole package."
Silence
Even the staff that had been working looked at me like a death-row prisoner trying to blend in with normal everyday society.
But I was, and I could. No gang tattoos, large muscles, scary eyes, or deformed physique. I was just a sixteen year old girl who enjoyed peace, a book, and men who knew how to obey.
And I'd take off as many jaws I needed to get Chatty-Cathy men to understand that demant.
-[]-
It was a new day on the ward, my third day, and I was rolling a class ring from my old high school in my hand; my trophy from my first victim.
It was only when I told the juvenile therapist that that boy wouldn't be the last person I got back at that he, and a board of directors, decided to put me up here at The School. Dull my mind with prescription pills and cooperate with the program and go straight.
It wouldn't work though. I'd make sure of that. Already I was cheeking my pills and purging myself of food I hadn't made or gotten myself in case it was dosed with something that might make me submit.
I wasn't going to be broken into their way no mater what. It's not like they could force my mind to stop thinking, even under sedation I would plot. I know, I've done it once...maybe twice.
There were so many more that
Needed punishment 'so little time.'
Needed punishment 'so little time.'
'So little time.' I thought as I felt my thumb graze over the football engraved on the side of the gold ring; I smiled.
Turning the corner to a busier wing in the asylum I saw a boy about my age twitching and sweating, the nurses and passing doctors acting as though he were just a useless dying bug. He must have been a drug addict; you pick up on symptoms on different cases quickly around here since they're forced out of their rooms unless going through heavy detox. He was maybe a pill popper or on the rock, only those kids could catch a cold sweat bad as his that soaked clothes like that.
I walked up to him and his glazed eyes skimmed over my figure before he lost interest. Withdraw druggies were like that I’ve noticed; no hidden stash, no attention you way. I couldn’t really blame him through, I might feel the same in his situation I suppose.
Looking around and seeing the nurses took no notice of my approaching him I reached into my pocket where I kept the cheeked pills in an old handkerchief and pulled out a Vicodin from it. I didn’t know if it would work, I also didn’t care if it put him into shock, but I wanted something to talk to that would respond with a real answer so it was worth a shot.
“Here.” I said in a whisper and pressed it against his lips that shook with his head. He took it in and swallowed it dry, his shaking calming a bit from looking like he was having a mild seizure to just chills.
Removing my NYU hoodie I put it in his lap and took a seat in a chair near him, pulling it closer so I wouldn't be as distant if he decided to speak.
He sat there in quiet for a long time, maybe half and hour, till eventually he stopped shivering all together aside from his hands that trembled as though he were nervous.
“…what’re you in for?” He asked me plane and simple, his voice quiet but deep.
“Murder…and an overactive suicidal and homicidal mind.” I said as though it was a side talent or hobby I’d picked up over my years.
The boy seemed unfazed at my reply and simply nodded returning us back to the silent company of each other; …I like him already.
-[]-
So it turned out the boys name was Thomas, but I shortened it down to Tom which he preferred, and he was just one day into withdraw from his ‘Fairy Dust’.
Well it wasn’t like we would use ‘cocaine’ for obvious reasons around the staff or possible detox patients.
His before story was like mine, mundane day to day school routine. But his reasoning for being in here was different as is most everyone’s; he’d been living with his single mother who dated, big surprise, total jerks and users.
One guy started bunking down in their apartment and then did jack s**t to help out. He'd buy booze and drugs, illegal or otherwise, with food and rent money and began dictating his mom's life. Longer story short Tom came home to see his mom getting beat and stepped up to the jerk...meat cleaver and all.
They’d been running since and his predicament now was similar to mine aside from the multiple juvenile centers and drug withdraw haze he had now every once and again.
“The lines helped me forget.” Tom explained as we went through the lunch line scooping and picking out ‘healthy’ foods. “Dust was just an extra up ‘cause it would also help me sleep or black out without dreams.”
That was another thing, Tom hated dreams. Ever since the murder they either:
A) Made him regret not being more protective and supportive to his mom
Or
B) Wish that he’d never played with the matched that burned down their first home that killed his dad.Either way he felt the obvious guilt that it was his entire fault.
“It’s mainly your fault.” I said after his explanation. And then he did something unexpected…laughed.
“Th-thanks.” He said through his laughter as he patted, more like slapped, me on the back. “Anyone who would ‘help’ me before you would coo me into a corner with ‘it’s okay’ and ‘you had your reasons’.”
I gave him a look and pursed my lips before speaking. “Soo…you wanted someone to reassure you of your guilt?” I asked as I took a bite of runny mac-n-cheese.
He nodded and tore into what could be compared to a week old roll with a slight smile.
We ate in silence while I thought on his way of reasoning till group where I wasn’t called on to recall my tale or feelings.
~*~
So that's chapter one, leave me some comments and tell me what you think cause I'm thinking that if I get enough feedback on this that's good or helps the creative flow once I get my first hundered or so pages I'll try and take it to a publisher! How awesome would that be?? Don't leave me comments on typos trust me I already caught them on Word and I'll fix them sooner or later. I'll put up chapter two and three some time late next week so comment away and I might upadte quicker ^^
Also look on fictionpress.net for sooner updates if you really like it 3nodding
