A/N: I can't rightly say I don't know where this comes from, because I do. But it was pretty random all the same. This is the first time I've played with second person in something other than a drabble, so let me know what you think!

"How have you been sleeping?"

"Do you have any intention of hurting yourself?"

"How do you feel about that?"

You answer the same questions over and over again with the same answers, but they don't seem to hear you. You feel like screaming at the top of your lungs, "For the last fucking time, I'm not going to hurt myself!"

But you don't.

The doctors finally leave you alone; you see the silhouette of Kendra through the window, wrapping her fingers around her ever present strand of pearls. Your father isn't there, as usual. The doctors troop back into the tiny room, where you sit on a stretcher, checking your messages.

"Massie." Kendra's voice trembles, you look up.

"Massie….they want to admit you, okay?"

You want to scream, "No! That's not okay!" Instead, you keep your gaze fixed on the dull beige flooring. "Alright," you whisper.

The doctor leads Kendra away, "Mrs. Block, there are some things we need to sort out with the insurance…"

------

And so you wait, the minutes turning into hours. Your mind is numb, thoughts flicker in and out in a hazy way, and you don't even remember what you were thinking.

------

"Massie….Massie….Massie."

A hand is shaking you awake; you open your eyes slowly. A worried Kendra, biting her collagen filled lower lip fills your field of vision.

"It's time to go."

You perk up, jumping down from the stretcher. Time to go home. Those words had a cozy ring to them. Curling up in bed with Bean; waking up in the morning to the smell of Inez's lean turkey bacon sizzling on the stove.

Kendra brandishes a plastic bag, "You have to put your clothes in here."

You blink stupidly, not comprehending.

"What?"

"Come on, Massie," Kendra says in her 'We must be reasonable' tone, "You have to wear this."

She places a hospital gown in your hands; you stare at the polyester blend fabric in disbelief.

"This?"

"Yes, that," Kendra's voice takes on a more irritated tone, "I'll give you some privacy."

She leaves, shutting the door behind her. You peel off your True Religions, your Alice Olivia top, standing in the cold, bare room in wine colored boy shorts and a matching camisole. You rub your hands down your arms in an attempt to keep yourself warm, and stare at the gown on the stretcher. With a sigh, you pick it up and put it on slowly, shuddering a little as the fabric touches your skin.

You look down at the shapeless square of fabric, making you look like a badly drawn stick figure. Even if it had French silk and the YSL logo this monstrosity disguised as a piece of clothing wouldn't be any more likeable. The light tap of Kendra's fingers on the door brings you out of your daze.

"Come in," you say softly, and she does, followed by the doctor and a nurse in blue scrubs. The doctor stares at the tangle of necklaces around your neck; your charm bracelet.

"You have to take those off."

You grasp the bracelet as if it was a lifeline. In a way, it was. "I can't."

"You can, and you will." He holds out his hand.

With your lips pressed together in a scowl, you take them off one by one, refusing to meet his eyes. Kendra places a bony hand on your shoulder, you shrug it off.

"They have a wheelchair ready for you."

"A wheelchair?" You raise one eyebrow, "I'm not crippled, you know."

"Standard procedure." The doctor stands up even straighter (if that was possible).

You roll your eyes but sit down anyway.

"Ready?" The nurse smiles one of those faux-cheerful smiles.

You say nothing; they take that as a yes and push you towards the double doors leading out of the ER. Kendra calls out to you, you don't look back.

-------

In an elevator, through a maze of corridors until you reach ward PG. A sign above the front desk reads, 'Adolescent Psychiatric'.

The ward is deserted, the doors closed and the lights off. A bored, gum chewing, nurse stares at you over the chipped laminate desk.

"Name?"

"Massie Block." The nurse who wheeled you in speaks for you.

"Come on in the back, hun." The nurse hands you your clothes and you hug them to your chest the way you would a beloved friend.

-------

Age: 14

Height: "5'3"

Weight: 110lbs

Temperature: 97.3

You stand still as they poke and prod you, turning away when they search you for drugs. Shame is a feeling you're not accustomed to.

"You can put your clothes back on, sweetie."

You sigh in relief at the familiar feeling of wearing your clothing; the only thing that you know is consistent in a world you no longer recognize.

----

The nurse leads you down a dark hallway; you stare at the rooms as you walk past. A small tag hangs on each wall next to a door, a blur of names, colors, and shapes.

Natalie. Hanna. Jessica. Nick. Andy. Kyle. You wonder if they're nice. Or just bat shit insane.

The nurse stops at any empty room and unlocks it. You take a few hesitant steps inside, looking around in the dim lighting. The door behind you shuts, the lock clicks. It's Wednesday, November 20th, four am.

And you're all alone in the dark.