Fangs PoV
I hate hospitals. Especially mental ones. You would too if you had been stuck in one for a year when you were only fifteen I'm sixteen now, and still stuck in this hellhole. I find my thoughts wandering to getting out more than they used to, but not as much as they had when I first got here. I'm going crazy, well at least more crazy than I already am. Or more than they think I am. Personally, I think this entire situation is crap. Ok, so I was depressed. Yes, I self-harmed. A lot. So what? It wasn't any of their business, and it's not their right to send me here. And it sure as hell isn't their job to try to make me 'better'.
The speaker in my small, bland room crackled before the nurses voice blasted through it, jarring my nerves. "Tony, we need you outside for a moment." She intoned, fake cheeriness injected into the notes. I gritted my teeth and muttered, "That's not my name." But I pulled my gaze away from the window anyway and walked over to the door. When I tried the handle, it was unlocked, which is rare nowadays. I opened it and stepped out into the hallway, and was instantly surrounded by the nurse and a couple of doctors.
"Hello Tony." The nurse said with the same too sweet tone. "We have some good news for you." I said nothing and just stood there, waiting. She obviously wanted me to respond, but after a few seconds she continued on. "We've decided you've made enough progress to attempt living with other children with similar… conditions." I wanted to scowl at her, but kept my face carefully blank. "You'll be living with five others, in a house a few miles from this facility." I raised my eyebrows. A house? With five other kids? "Someone will be by every week to survey the situation, and offer help if needed." I almost rolled my eyes at the word 'help', but didn't. "But other than that, you will be mostly on your own."
Now she stopped and gave me a stern look. "This is all based on an honor system. We're trusting you here. Do you understand?" I nodded once. "Good. Here are some of your belongings and a back pack to put them in. Now hurry, change and pack. You're leaving in half an hour." I took the bag and the back pack with me back into my room with me. I set them on the bare bed, then I stopped and stared at them. These were my old things, the ones my friends sent with me when I first came here. They hadn't understood how things really worked here.
I shook myself and started going through the bag. It held my band t-shirts, black jeans, my Converse, even my old black leather jacket. I smiled a little at it, then got dressed and pulled it on. I packed the remaining things into the back pack they had given me. I noticed a few things they had taken from me when I had arrived, like my pocket knife and things like that, were missing. Well, I guess if I'll be living in an actual house I could find a blade somewhere. I slung the pack over my shoulder and left the room, meeting the guard outside. "Come on, kid, the car is here." He said gruffly. I walked obligingly in front of him, through the lobby and outside.
The sun was bright, and it made me blink. "Down there." The guard said, pointing down the road to a car belonging to the hospital about 50 feet away. I nodded and walked over to it, hopping into the back and shutting the door behind me. I didn't speak to the driver, and he didn't speak to me. He just did his job and drove. It was a quick trip, maybe five minutes or so. We pulled up in front of a large house, three stories and painted a deep brown. I took a deep breath. Here we go.
The driver followed me out of the car, escorted me up the drive, knocked on the door. It was opened by a girl who looked my age, with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. She was 4 inches shorter than me. When she saw me, she smirked and crossed her arms, which were clad in elbow length fingerless black gloves. "Hey guys!" she called back into the house. "We've got fresh meat." She turned and walked back into the house, her mid back length air swishing. "Well, go on." The driver said impatiently. So I stepped inside the house and closed the door behind me.
Once inside, I was confronted with four other people. There was another boy my age, with super light strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, and white skin. He wore ripped jeans and a white t shirt, and was barefoot. His eyes were focused a few inches from my face, making his 'condition' obvious. Next to him was the girl from earlier. She wore an Evanescence t-shirt, dark jeans, and combat boots in addition to her gloves. Next to her was another boy about 14 years old, with light blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a green shirt and regular jeans with Velcro sneakers. Next was a girl about 15 years old. She had mocha skin, tawny eyes, and caramel colored frizzy hair. She wore simple pink shirt, jeans, and pink Converse. Last was another girl, maybe twelve years old. She had golden curls, bright blue eyes, and flawless skin. She was wearing a designer gold Tee and jeans, with two inch heels. Plus makeup.
"Based on your appearance, I can guess what your problem is." The gloved girl said snidely. Now I let my scowl appear. I didn't have to put up with her snark. "Back off." I snarled. "Oh? Why should I?" she snapped, eyes suddenly flashing with anger. Her arms went to her sides and she took a threatening step forward. My scowl changed to a smirk. "Based on that reaction, I can guess what your problem is." I said. She growled and took another step, her fists clenching…
chapter two
Max pov.
until the pale guy caught her wrist. "Max." he hissed at her. "Did you take your meds yet today?" "No." she ground out through clenched teeth. "And why is that?" he asked.
"I don't like them." She snapped at him. "They make me feel dizzy." Alright, she might be acting like a jerk, but I felt her pain on that one. Mine did the same thing. "Go take them." He ordered. "No." she said. "Max-" "I said no!" she yelled, suddenly combusting, and yanked her wrist away from him. She stalked out the back door, slamming it behind her. The guy shook his head and turned back around. "Hi, I'm Iggy." He said, seeming to remember that I was there. "I'm Gazzy!" the other boy cried, waving madly and bouncing up and down. "I'm Nudge." The tawny girl said shyly, looking down at her feet. Before I could say anything to them, the blonde girl strutted in front of me.
"And my name is Angel." She said proudly, standing in such a way to show off her expensive clothes. I simply nodded to her. Judging by the angry look on her face, it wasn't the reaction she had wanted. "And that lovely ray of sunshine that just threatened you is Max. And apparently she isn't the only one who hasn't taken her meds." Iggy said, shooting a sharp look at Gazzy. He blushed and looked down. Iggy turned his sightless eyes back to me. "I'm blind." He said, confirming my suspicions. "In case you were wondering. I'll let you figure the rest out on your own."
"Let me guess." I muttered wryly. "Max has anger issues." "Yep." Gazzy said. "And violence issues too. What about you?" Now they were all looking at me. I don't like being stared at. "I take meds. That's all you need to know." I said, looking at my feet. They didn't bug me about it. "Nudge, will you show… um… I actually didn't get your name." Iggy said, looking confused. "Fang." I said quietly. "Ok. Nudge, will you show Fang to his room?" Nudge nodded and said, "Follow me." In a shy voice, turning to head up the stairs.
I followed her. She walked up past the second floor, saying, "Max, Iggy, and I share the second floor. You get a room on the third with Gazzy and Angel." I nodded silently. We climbed up the last flight, and walked past two doors before reaching mine. The first was painted camouflage, and the second a light gold. "You can decorate it however you want." She said in her shy tone. "We have stuff In the garage. Iggy and I will help, maybe Max if you get her on a good day." I nodded yet again. "You don't talk much, do you?" she asked. I shook my head. She laughed a little. "Well, I'll let you get settled in." with that, she turned to march back downstairs.
I stepped into the room. It was unpainted and undecorated, but not harshly so like at the hospital. I set my back pack on the neatly made bed and walked over to the window. It looked out into the massive backyard, where I spotted Iggy arguing with Max. After a few minutes of that, I turned back around and started hanging my few clothes in the closet. I was just setting the back pack in the corner when I heard the back door shut, and Maxs voice rang out through the house. "I don't want to take the goddamn pills Iggy!" "I know Max." Iggy's voice was soothing. "But you know they'll send you back if you don't. This is your last chance, remember?"
There was silence. Then, "I don't want them. But I don't want to be sent back either. Not to that… place." I could practically hear the shiver that had to follow that sentence. "So which is worse. The pills, or being sent back?" Another pause before Max said, "Alright, fine. You win. I'll take them." "Thank you." Then there was silence. I waited few seconds before walking back downstairs. I passed the living room where Gazzy was playing Xbox and Angel was brushing her hair and looking into a small hand mirror. When I walked into the kitchen, Max was sitting on the counter with a Mountain Dew and two white pills.
She downed them in one go, took a swig of the soda, then set the can down on the granite counter top. She rested her head against the wall and muttered, "God I hate those." I surveyed the kitchen, noting where the knives and other sharp things were kept. "You should really stop eyeing those knives like that." I spun around and saw Max staring right at me. I gave her a questioning look. "You'll freak Nudge out." With that, she grabbed her soda, hopped off the counter, and left the room.
I frowned to myself, wondering what she meant, then shrugged and went back into the living room. I didn't want to get caught taking a knife. I'd be sent back for sure. Now that I think about it, that's the one thing what we probably all have in common. Hospitalization, and the fear of being sent back to our respective living hells. When I got to the living room, Iggy Nudge and Max had joined the other two. Nudge was reading something out loud to Iggy, and Max was watching Gazzy play. Unsure of what to do, I just went back upstairs to the room that was supposedly mine.
A couple of hours passed. I just paced around my room, biting my knuckles, until someone knocked on the door. "What?" I called. "Dinner time!" came Gazzy's cheerful voice. I really wasn't hungry, but I went downstairs anyway. Everyone was sitting in various positions in the living room with plates of food in their laps. "Hey, Mr. Dark and Mysterious decided to join us." Max said snarkily. I just rolled my eyes and went into the kitchen to get some food.
While I was in there, I studied the knives again, but forced myself to go back into the living room without touching one. But boy did I need it. I sat down in the corner of the couch and didn't look at anyone, just focused on eating the small amount I had given myself. "Thanks for making dinner, Iggy." Nudge said. I frowned. How did Iggy make dinner, if he's blind? "Thank you Nudge." Iggy said, making a silly little bow. "And yes, Fang, it is possible for a blind kid to cook." "Apparently." I muttered, still not looking up.
"Fang?" That was Angels sugary sweet voice. "What?" I murmured without moving. "You need a better fashion sense. What you're wearing is so…emo." I rolled my eyes, though the 'emo' comment did sting a little. People threw that word around too much, without knowing what it really meant. "Oddly enough, I think you just described my personality." I said, with a hint of Max-like snark. I heard silence as the rest of them tried to decipher what I had meant. I finished the last of my food, put the plate in the sink, and went back up to the room.