My life in a Straight-Jacket
(Pictures on my profile)
Chapter one
"Mia, please calm down. This needle will help you feel better-I promise," Doctor Monroe said. He was an asshole, but the nicest one out there, I guess.
"I am calm, you calm down," I said calmly. I have learnt a long time ago that the doctors around here get more worked up then the patients do. Surprisingly I have met some very calm, serene people around here. You wouldn't expect that in a mental hospital wouldn't you? Especially in the psychiatric ward.
"Ok, we are going to insert the needle in your vien. Don't squirm ok? It will only make this harder," He warned. I was already taped to the table and injected with so many drugs I couldn't feel my toes, he didn't need to warn me about anything.
"It won't work," I said for the hundredth time today. It's been four months since I have first moved in. And the thing is- I know I'm not insane. Half the patience in here are the definition of insane: throwing things at the nurses, threatening others, screaming at the top of their lungs in the middle of the night, me... nope. Not even a little bit crazy. I'd say I'm more sane then the doctors.
He ignored me and injected the needle into my hot skin. It was hot for a reason- I don't understand why they have to inject me with drugs to keep my skin cooler, to stop the emotions running my body and to sieze my body from phasing into the proof they need. What I don't get is why they ask for proof, I begin the painful transformation my body will make to turn me into a wolf but then they put me in a straight jacket, drug me up and shove me in a padded room.
"Damn it," Doctor Monroe muttered after checking my temperature. It still stayed the warm toasty temperature instead of freezing me half to death like the do with most of the patients around here.
"Told ya," I said with a grin. It's so much fun to annoy everyone around here. I know for sure I'm not going to stick around long enough for me to end up like some dead potatoe that sits in a corner all day. No-siry, that will not be me. Ever
"Well in that case we are going to do some testing, you don't mind do ya?" I swear he gets off on the fact that he can torture me and nobody would care because I'm some 'crazy lunatic,' but I never give him the satisfaction of letting him know it bothers me. It just pisses him off more.
"Of course not," Even though it didn't matter what my answer was going to be. He was going to test me whether I like it or not.
He frowned before covering it up with a sly grin. He turned around and got his clip board of charts.
"So how do you feel?" He asked. That is the most annoy-ingest question around here- I swear.
"My eyes hurt..." I whined. It's true the white, bright lights here were hurting my sensitive vision. My wolf vision that is., but that's not what I was referring too.
"Your eyes?" He question, his face blank, uncaring. I could probably die and he wouldn't bat an eyelid.
"Yes, if I have to look at your face anymore I think I will go blind!" He only glared at me, ah well- I entertain myself.
"That's getting old," He said in a bored voice. He really needs to get a sense of humor... even though I wasn't kidding. He was butt-ugly. He had pale skin, A white mustache that connects to his side burns. Hid bold but hair at the same time? Weird, I know. And don't get me started with his nasty pale blue eyes. They are filled with evil I tell you.
"You're getting old," I retorted.
He sighed to himself in annoyance and tapped on the IV that was taped in my arm.
"I think, we'll try a new diet with you," I groaned, new diets suck. Especially when they don't give me the right proportion. Don't they realize I need to eat a tone a day? Obviously not.
"I think I want to be a cannibal," I mumbled to myself- that way if I get hungry I can just munch on the never-ending therapists I have to visit. I forget their names... and I don't really care about their names either. They are just stupid people in my eyes. They don't deserve a name.
"You bite someone, you will go to the vault," He warned me angrily. I rolled my eyes. The vault is not intimidating to me. It's just a small cement room that leaks rainwater from the cracks in the roof. They try and scare us off by leaving us in there for long periods of time. The longest I have been in there is five days. It's pretty boring being in there, but I do get time to think since it's so quiet. Silence is sacred in such a noisy place.
"Scary," I said sarcastically.
He grumbled under his breath to himself about me being a misbehaving creature. I don't think he knows I can hear him so clearly it was like he was screaming at me. I laughed while he rolled me down the hall, I was still strapped onto the cot and was still listening to him babble on. 'Smoush monster," hmm... that's a new one.
I waved to some crazy bitch nurse then flipped her off when she glared at me. I understand why I'm hated around here.