Disclaimer: There are OCs in this story. However, they are minor characters. They are not involved in any pairings with true South Park characters throughout the story. They are spoken of, but aren't important. M for future chapters. Please read and enjoy, if you so wish. PLEASE review.

The smell of the portly woman driving me to hell's off-silver Elantra's interior had been similar to a cheap air freshener. I looked to my right and saw my sister, Karen's small face nuzzled into my arm after she had fallen asleep. We had been in this car for about an hour now and it was starting to get claustrophobic. It was so odd not having my usual orange parka, but since they 'diagnosed' me, I had it taken from me. It made me constantly feel as if I were naked. A walking skeleton with a face that gave people nightmares. They claimed it they had stripped it from my possession because the fumes from the hood had caused me to be the way I am. I tried not to think about it. Sighing, I looked up and over to my left, at a boy I had never seen. Something about his feminine face seamed all too similar, but I couldn't place a name or a memory. The boy's eyes were a very pretty green, like the color of the trees in the mountains- when they weren't covered in snow. On his right eyebrow, there were four scars that were shaped as perfect circles, and they formed the four corners of a square, all evenly spaced out. I had no clue how someone could get scars that clean. He had very pale skin, as if he were a ghost, and his hair was a dark brown that made him look even more like the creepy child from the cover of a horror novel. I use the word 'child' loosely, as he was older than I am. Something about his entirety screamed Steven Hawking and quite frankly, it kinda scared me. His eyes seemed to be twitching and he looked disturbed, holding a crucifix in one hand and a white piece of plastic that I couldn't quite make out in the other.

Total weirdo, I had liked to think.

"Are you home schooled?" I asked, breaking the silence. He seemed to snap out of whatever limbo he was stuck in, flinching at my question. His clean but dull eyes met mine and he looked at me as if I were high. Scanning my face, his mouth slowly opened. He was as dingy as a washcloth which I had never seen. He shook his head and in a voice that sounded like it belonged to my dead grandfather, he said "I'm actually a senior at your school. I'd have graduated if all of this...whatever this is happened." The woman in front seemed to give a small laugh, as if what he said was a complete fabrication. I noticed that he had a slight lisp.

"Really? No way. I've never seen you. What's your name?" I quickly interjected, ignoring the bitch who had picked me up earlier this morning's little squeak.

"Mike Makowski." He looked over, raising an eyebrow. It was almost as though he expected me to know him. I hate to admit it, but I did know him. "You have to know me. Your friend, Kyle, usually helps me with my botany homework. Plants have never interested me since...never mind that." "You're totally not Mike Makowski!" I interjected, scooting farther up my seat, turning my torso to him. "That vampire kid? He always has red contacts. His hair is green and black!" There's no way this could be him.

"It used to be. They made everyone- EVERYONE- strip any dye out of their hair. They want us to all be 'pure'. Whatever that means."

"What's that in your hand," I asked, "and not the cross, either." He opened his hand, revealing a pair of some pretty expensive fake vampire fangs. They weren't those cheap ones you get on Halloween, no, they looked like they had been molded to his own jaw, and resembled real teeth. "I'm holding on to them as long as I can. I know they'll be pried from my hands as soon as I step foot in that damn place." He must be going to this hospital for a bullshit case of, dare I say it, 'vampirism'.

"Don't use words like that, Makowski. You'll get beatings for talking like that where you're going." The woman spoke, carelessly staring at the empty road in front of her. Mike shrunk in his seat. There was no way in hell they'd beat a mentally ill person. All I've heard this woman say was complete bullshit. "Yes ma'am." Mike had said in a voice that showed how truly broken he really was.

"Do you have any friends that have also been diagnosed?" I questioned, turning my gaze down to where he now sat, slouched in his seat. "Well, I don't have friends, but I can tell you what I know happened- diagnoses wise." "That helps a lot, even if you may not think so." I reassured him, putting my hand on his shoulder for comfort. It was kind of weird being so close with someone I spoke to maybe once, if at all. But we had to stick together. Fate put us together in the backseat of this crappy car. Fate gave me the courage to ask who he was.

"Shelly Marsh, in my grade, was diagnosed with Aboulia. That's the loss of motivation to do, well, anything. Leopold Stotch has multiple personality disorder, which the doctors claimed to have already known. My neighbor, Token Black, has severe depression, which I'd have never guessed. Pete Menson, that goth kid, was diagnosed with malingering. He hates to go places. ESPECIALLY school. Henrietta Biggle has some body dysmorphic disorder. That's why she now always wears long sleeves and long necks. Phillip Pirrup-" "Pip." I interjected. I used to hate Pip. "Pip Pirrup is a bibliomaniac, which I'm guessing has to do with books. Lastly, I know Damien Thorne has been claimed to have severe schizophrenia, calling himself the anti-Christ." He finished, his eyes that had retreated into his head had now returned. "That's all I know, but I'm sure there are more. What about your friends?" His thin chin tilted as he asked me a question.

"Well, Cartman has Bulimia. He was tired of being fat and started forcing himself to throw up. He's stick thin, now. Kyle has OCD, which apparently drives him up the wall- or so I've been told. Stan...Stan has Trichotillomania. He keeps pulling his hair out because of stress." I gave a weak smile, wrapping my arm around my sister. At the same time, as if on instinct, Mike and I both asked "What are you in for?"

He nodded and quickly spoke out, saying "I was diagnosed with schizophrenia. They're convinced that I actually think I'm a vampire." He rolled his eyes. He then mouthed "which is really fucking dumb, if you ask me". It was then my turn to speak.

"I'm in for Oneirophrenia. They say I'm a drug addict, and because of it I dream I die every day and am always re-" I was cut off as my body nearly flew threw the car's windshield. "We're here!" The woman in the front seat turned around, smiling through red lipstick that was much too bright. Her smile seemed to falter as she glared and said "no talking from this point on." It struck a bit of fear in my heart and I shook Karen awake. She rubbed her hazel eyes and yawned.

Mike and I looked at each other with an "oh fuck" look before we both nodded. Everyone occupying the vehicle unbuckled and we were all kind of shaken as we opened the doors. All that was heard following that was the sound of car doors slamming, and the snow crunching beneath the woman's heels as she lead the three of us to our doom.

"This is your room." A new woman said, her breath held the lingering scent of cigars. It wafted around me and made me nauseous. "The boy you share this room with will be here soon." She said, grabbing my hand and leading me in. This woman had dark eyes that were a greyish color and long black hair. Dropping my hand, she ran her painted fingers through the long strands going down her back. She eyed me in a way that was probing for questions. "Ma'am..." I started, "What's your name?" "My name is Anlis." She stated. "But you should call me Mrs. Williams when others are around. When it's just me, go ahead and call me by my first name." She looked at me with a face that said 'got it?' without speaking, and I nodded. Mrs. Williams turned to leave and she stopped in the doorway.

"And kid, don't get caught doing any of that faggy stuff. It's a mental hospital, not a prison." With that, she left the room, causing the automatic door to close behind her.

Soaking up the loneliness, I started to unpack my tattered duffle bag. Mindlessly throwing my clothes on the bed, I thought about who my roommate could be. I didn't want to go through their stuff, so I'd have to wait. Looking over my shoulder, I noticed the other half of the room was completely clean. The sheets were folded and the dresser drawers were open...and completely empty.

"What the fu-" I started before the door opened again.

This time, a man stood there. He was a tall man and he was quite big. He had a name tag that read, in bold letters, "WILLIAMS ". His voice was very, very deep as he spoke. It sounded like a satanic lullaby. "I don't know if you know how things work around here, but in about thirty minutes you're going to hear a loud bell. At the sound of this bell, you will go to the cafeteria and eat your dinner. Once you are finished with that, you will head to the showers. Each patient is limited to a 15 minute shower. Don't try anything funny, I have one of my guards stationed in there where he can see any and everything. Throughout the day, there are 4 different bells. You'll have to ask around for someone to tell you where to go when this or that bell rings." This man spoke incredibly fast and I didn't catch on to what he was saying. My mind went completely blank before a loud 'BEEP' that resonated in my room had rung. It hit me hard and I flinched so dramatically I nearly fell over. By the way he was looking at me, I assumed he had asked me a question I failed to answer. "I'm sorry. Did you ask me something?" I looked up at Mr. Williams. He was not amused.

"McCormick, is it? You're good at bullshitting your way through a 10 minute lecture. Good luck."Mr. Williams said before exiting, never looking back or stopping.

I was left alone in this room as familiar faces outside were passing by my door. They didn't even know I was in there. My eyes burned. I would never know why, but I felt like something in the back of my skull was trying to attack me. To make me blind to everything. I didn't want to be here.

And those damn words rang in my head.

'Good luck'.

What the hell was THAT supposed to mean?