A/N: This has been stuck in my head for ages. Like, seriously. It's an AU (Hahahaha! First one!) Fifth story to juggle, I know. But, once I finish the other four, many more stories will be popping up! I have 40 notes on my iPod. All of them are story ideas. Mmmhmmm. Exactly. Well, I have seen one of two of these types of Fanfics out there about the boys meeting in an asylum of sorts, and I wanted to try my hand at it! It's kinda like the usual, but I'm going to add as much pizzazz as I can to it. Like things you wouldn't expect or whatever. *Sigh* I hate coming out with stories that are so similar to other ones! That's why I'll be coming out with a Cargan chapter story *cue squeal!*. I hope this is ok!

Chapter One:

How could this happen to me?

I was the perfect kid. Perfect home life. Perfect school life. Perfect everything!

Well, that's what everyone thought.

None of it was true.

I guess my true colors showed one day and now I had to face the consequences.

Being sent here. And here is a "Home." That really means a place for kids who are hopeless causes.

A teenage insane asylum, if you will.

You're probably wondering why I was sent here.

I don't feel like telling you. I mean, what do you care? Damn psychiatrist is making me, though. Thinks it will "Help me get my feelings out."

Well, I like my feelings inside me and hidden, thank you very much.

I guess I should get started on telling you why I'm here.

I wasn't the perfect kid. Hell, I was the farthest thing from it probably. No, well, that wasn't that true. I was a good kid. Nowhere near perfect…but good. That's a good thing, right? Right. I helped my mom out with the money by getting a job that paid pretty well. I helped raise Katie. I helped clean the house and take care of it. I helped out a lot.

You're probably wondering where my Dad comes in.

He doesn't.

He's gone. Forever.

He got himself killed one night. He was drunk, driving, it was raining, and he hit another car. Killing him and that other person. Who happened to be my best friend's Dad.

Andrew, my supposed best friend, avoided me from that day on.

It was my Dad's fault, you fucking bastard. Not mine.

And yet people still seemed to blame me. Well, at my school at least.

I hate my Dad. With the passion of a thousand fiery suns.

He ruined my life.

School suddenly became a torture hell. No one communicated with me. No one looked at me without disgust, hate, sadness, pity; any bad emotion! Not even the teachers could act normal around me. They were all awkward and acting like I was the fucking Grim Reaper.

Bastards.

So, there went my school life. Taken from my grip, ripped to shreds, stomped on and burned, before finally getting flushed down the toilet.

I hated them all.

My home life was down the drain. I was the new Dad of the family. I was forced to grow up too fast. Too much pressure was put on my shoulders. It was a matter of time before I broke.

I had started slowly going insane, I guess. Voices in my head telling me I was fucked up. A hopeless cause. Someone who would die alone and in hate.

Someone I didn't want to be.

It caused me to get into many fights at school. For my grades to drop. For me to get into fights with my own family.

I reached the breaking point by almost killing one kid.

That kid was Andrew.

I had almost killed him.

Apparently I had major anger problems and I was crazy.

Who knew?

My mom grew tired of me being who I was. She saw my changes. She saw the person I had become.

And she sent me here. A fucking teenage insane asylum!

I wasn't insane!

So what if I had voices in my head?

Everybody does!

Right?

Oh God, I hope so.

And I'm not talking about the lousy thing they call a conscious. No, I'm talking about real ass voices that tell you what to do and what not to do and insult you all the fucking time.

I don't like them.

But I don't like it when they're not there.

Because then I feel all alone. Alone, angry, no guidance, and, worst of all, numb.

I hate numbness.

I prefer self-hate.

That's what the voices make me feel.

I like it.

I am fucked up.

I sat down in one of the comfy chairs in the calming office of this place. It was like a boarding school…for psychos. I mean, I had to do real school in this place. And make friends. Great…

I heard the door behind my chair open and in came in two people, this skinny adult wearing a suit and had a balding head. Behind him is what interested me.

A hyper Latino boy.

What the fuck was he in here for?

He was fucking smiling.

Who would smile in this place?

Apparently he would.

The wiry creep sat in the big chair on the other side of the desk and folded his hands on the oak wood.

Weirdo.

The Latino, though, sat down in the chair beside me and waved.

I nodded my head in acknowledgement before turning to the weirdo.

He cleared his throat. "Mr. Knight, Mr. Garcia." He nodded his head to each of us. "You are both here because you need some help."

You need help? Yeah. He also needs help. Lots of it. Do you see his face?

I immediately cracked a smile. My voices could sometimes be really funny. In all the wrong situations.

The wiry weirdo scowled at me. "What's so funny, Mr. Knight?"

I smiled and shook my head. "Nothing."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, Mr. Knight, Mr. Garcia is here to escort you around. Become your friend. He's been here for a while."

The Latino rolled his eyes before looking at me and smirking.

Weirdo.

Why was this place full of weirdos?

"Now, you two are dismissed. Mr. Knight, you will get the hang of how it works here soon. But for now, go along with Mr. Garcia."

I nodded and walked out.

That dark skinned boy quickly stopped me.

"Hey. Where do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere but here."

He rolled his eyes. "You can't. Trust me, many people have tried. They just put you in the solitary confinement for a week before making sure you won't run again."

"Solitary confinement?"

"Like, there are three levels in this place. We're level ones. The easiest to fix. The ones with a little more freedom. Then there is level two's. Like see that kid?" He pointed to a Goth kid down the hall. "He's a level two." He dragged me to a window. "And see that building?"

I nodded.

"Those are where level threes go."

It looked like a prison.

I swallowed roughly. "Wow."

"Now, I'm Carlos. Sixteen and partially insane. A knack for danger. Horrible ADHD and, well, people don't really know what's wrong with me. I was just so hard to contain and nowhere near normal that I was sent here."

I smiled. "Kendall. Sixteen. Voices in my head. Horrible anger management. A knack for trouble. Some people say I'm schizophrenic, but I don't think so. They're just voices, you know?"

He laughed. "No. I don't know. I don't have any except my conscious. But he's a pain in the ass."

We had started walking towards an elevator. I laughed as he jabbed the button to go up. "Mine disappeared long ago." The doors opened and we stepped in. "Where are we going?"

"Our dorm. Luckily, I sweet talked the coordinator into letting you dorm with me instead of some other weirdo."

I nodded. "Thanks."

He smiled. "No problem. Your bags are already here. And, I hope you don't mind, but I already unpacked for you. I didn't look at anything too closely, though!"

I grinned as I stepped into the room. "No, it's fine. Thanks." I walked over to what I assumed was my side. I was by the window. I turned. "You didn't want the window view?"

He shook his head. "I can't stand the noises that come from outside at night when I'm right by the window."

I nodded and looked out. It was a nice view. A nice view of the Pacific Ocean. It was one of the things I loved about California. The ocean views.

I turned to the closet on my side. All my clothes were nicely hung on hangers and were color coordinated.

The night stand by my plaid bed already had my alarm and book atop of it.

I turned back to Carlos, who was sitting on his bed, playing with his phone. "You OCD?"

He looked up before blushing. "A little. Just…a bit of a neat freak. Nothing too bad."

I laughed. "You're awesome. Thanks."

He grinned up at me. "Any time."

Then the bell rang.

I looked at him questioningly.

"We got out of classes for today. But it's lunch time. Want to go have some?"

I nodded and followed him out of our room.

So maybe this place wouldn't be so bad.

Think again…

As we entered the lunch room, I looked around. The cafeteria counter where you get your food was on the wall to my right. A line was already beginning to form as Carlos and I stepped in. To the left were dark, round tables and benches underneath them. They were spread throughout the cafeteria evenly. The walls were a nice beige color and the tiles underneath my feet were neutral colored.

Then I looked at the line.

Kids ranging from emo, to Goth, to normal, to nerdy, to just plain preppy were standing in line. Most of the nerdy and preppy kids were talking to one another while the darker kids kept to themselves or others like them.

I looked down at what I was wearing.

A blue long sleeved shirt and dark blue skinny jeans with my vans.

Normal clothes.

Carlos had on a dark red collared shirt and jeans and converse.

Pretty normal.

Then I looked at the tables.

There was a normal looking group.

Who were waving to Carlos.

Oh good. I was worried I was going to have to be friends with psychos.

They looked normal, anyway.

Once we had gotten our food, Carlos led me to the table where a few kids sat.

"Kendall, this is Dak." A dark haired boy, a nice smile, leather jacket, t-shirt, and skinny jeans. "Camille." A girl with curly brown hair, a big smile, a mini skirt and t-shirt. "Jo." Pretty girl with blonde hair, a small smile, and a sundress. "And Jett." Short dark hair, a wide smile, mischievous eyes, and good looks. Carlos pointed at Dak. "Dak is bipolar. His moods are highly unpredictable and are severely extreme." Dak shrugged his shoulders at me. "Camille has a personality disorder." Camille was talking, I mean flirting, with Dak at the moment. "And Jo is clinically depressed. But she also has major outbursts." Jo was talking to Jett. "And Jett is narcissistic."

A bunch of crazies disguised as normals.

Camille turned to me. "You know our problems. What's yours?"

I looked down. Carlos answered for me. "He hears voices and has major anger management issues."

Jett raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

I nodded.

He only smirked. "Not too bad. Welcome to the group, Kendork."

"It's Kendall."

"Too bad. I'm calling you Kendork."

Calm down, Kendall. He's not worth your fist in his face.

I felt Carlos' hand on my shoulder. "Ignore him. He's an ass."

I smiled a bit before finishing my food. We all got up and threw our food away. Soon enough we were heading towards the outside fields.

"Why are we going out here?"

Carlos turned towards me. "Morning is our classes. After lunch, from 1:30 to 3:30 is time to hang out. Either outside or in. Preferably outside. And at 3:30 we go back in for some study hall until 5:30. And at 6 is dinner time. 7:30 we're allowed to do whatever. We need to be in our rooms by 10. Lights out at 11."

"Wow."

"That's our schedule." Carlos shrugged. "We're under constant surveillance by cameras-" he pointed to a black thing on the side of the building. "-but no cameras are in the dorms or bathrooms. Level ones, like us, are allowed to roam free throughout the place without a buddy. Level twos need to be with someone at all times."

"Why?"

"Well, without somebody there to watch them, who knows what they can do? Level twos consist of cutters, burners, anorexics, bulimics, and druggies. They're the screw ups. We're the easies."

"We have group names here?"

He laughed. "Yeah."

We ended up sitting by a tree. I looked at him. "Who are the important people?"

He sighed. "Well, there's those three." He pointed to three girls. "They're the Jennifer's. All named Jennifer and all are bitches. All were anorexic. Avoid them at all costs."

I nodded. He pointed to a hippy looking group. "Those are the druggies and hippies. Avoid them unless you want to get addicted to a substance. Their 'leader' is Thomas. He likes to be called Guitar Dude, though."

More weirdos…great.

And lastly, he pointed to two kids hanging out in the shade. "Logan and James. The rulers of the school. Both level twos and both have anger management issues. Logan's a druggy, addicted to heroin. James is a cutter and sometimes a burner."

No wonder he was wearing such dark clothing that covered every inch of his skin except for his hands and face.

And God, he was hot.

Dark skinny jeans, combat boots, dark long sleeve shirt, aviator sunglasses, a scowl firmly planted on his face.

I was gay. I had already known for a long time.

But…wow.

He was hot.

Carlos was still talking. "They've been here a while."

I looked over at him. "Why?"

"They're each other's 'buddy'. Logan still does drugs, James still cuts. Plain and simple."

"No one's tried to stop them?"

"Try to and they'll make your life a living hell. Trust me, a kid named Tyler tried."

"Where's he now?"

Carlos sighed and looked at the prison building. "Level Three."

I swallowed harshly.

He was so hot.

And…he looked…just broken.

Alone.

Even if he did have Logan as a friend.

"I'm going to help him. Not now, not until I get to know the ways of this place, but I'm going to help him."

I had made my decision. There was no stopping me now.

Carlos rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right."

I looked at him. "I am."

He sighed. "I used to want to help Logan…but it doesn't work. They don't want help."

"They do. Deep down."

He threw his head back and laughed. "You like James, don't you?"

I blushed and looked away.

"I know. A lot of people crush on his looks. His personality isn't so great, though."

I nodded.

"Logan, though, has a good personality once you break through his walls like James did."

"You like him?"

He nodded. "A little."

I smirked. "Well, I don't know about you, but I plan on getting to know this James kid."

"You're setting yourself up for-"

"Don't say failure." I growled out, shutting my eyes tight.

But you are a failure, Kendall. Look what's happened to you. You're in an insane asylum. You're going to turn out like your father…

I was gripping my hair tightly in my fists.

I hate those voices.

But I love them.

God…I hate everything.

When I finally calmed down enough to open my eyes, I saw Carlos staring at me.

"You ok? You just started spazzing out and mumbling."

I nodded.

"The voices."

Another nod.

He frowned. "It'll get better."

I just shook my head and looked away.

I heard him swallow harshly. "So…do you like it here so far?"

I laughed. "Sure."

A/N: I couldn't help myself! *Goes into corner* I really wanted to make this! Ahh! I really love this so far and I think it's my favorite story and AHH! The reformatory school or whatever is based off of the one in the book Fallen. But that's it. I hope this is ok! Please, REVIEW!