1
The wind whipped violently, tossing about leaves on the ground. By one of the larger trees in the forest, a man sat on a metal bench, drawing quietly in a notebook, not caring about the oncoming storm. He touched his forehead with his hand, and flinched uneasily as he stared at the smears of dark red blood that had wiped off. He looked up, hearing soft calls coming from a large building to his left.
He closed the notebook and got up without a sound. His eyes narrowed as rain began to splash on him. He sped up his pace as he made his way to shelter. A professional-looking woman with her brunette hair up in a tight bun walked up to him and gently grabbed him by the arm, escorting him into the building. He winced and stumbled awkwardly inside, narrowly avoiding a sudden oncoming downpour.
"Come right this way, I need to have a small talk with you, Terry," she said, her high-heeled shoes making light clicking noises on the linoleum floor.
She held open the door for him as he walked in and sat down on a large, comfortable-looking beige couch. His bright blue eyes were wide, and his face had a deer-in-the-headlights look to it. He twiddled his thumbs and looking from the woman to the ceiling several times.
"They're just regular questions, nothing to be afraid of. You aren't in trouble, you can just relax. I'm not going to hurt you." She said, her voice smooth comforting and smooth, but still holding an air of uptightness. "How are you feeling today?"
"Lonely." He said quietly.
She jotted things down on a the clipboard she held, and moved a wisp of stray hair out of her eyes. "Any thoughts of suicide?"
"No."
"Homicide?"
"No."
"That's good to hear. Having you been hearing or seeing anything -- 'abnormal'?"
"No, ma'am."
"Oh, my. That wound on your forehead has opened up again. Let me see if I can find the nurse. Please stay seated."
As she walked out of the room he leaned back. Truth be told, he wash having strange feelings, and even stranger thoughts. He tilted his head and attempted to look at his reflection in the mirrored metal of a chair. His unruly, bright red hair seemed to look unkempt, and it remained that way no matter what he tried to do with it.
One of the nurses walked briskly into the room, cleaned his forehead with some sort of solution, and wrapped a bandage round his head. She walked back out, and another lady entered, smiling sweetly and holding a canvas bag. He leaned forward to try to get a peek at whatever was inside it. He looked up at her as she sat down.
"Good afternoon, Terry. I'm Dr. Amanda Lee, but you may call me Amanda." She said, pulling her chair up close until she was face-to-face with him. "We're going to play a few games, and check up on your progress."
"I don't want to play anything," he growled. He turned away in a huffy manner, folding his arms across his chest. "I want to leave this place."
"But we're not yet finished with your treatment. It wouldn't be good for you if we just let you leave. Something awful might happen to you again, and that wouldn't be good, would it, Terry?" she said, reaching out to touch his shoulder. He jerked away and whirled around, his teeth clinched. "You aren't feeling alright, are you?"
"Of course not! I'm locked up here, and I have no freedom. I don't know who I really am, or anything about my past! I just -- I just --" His lower lip trembled, and he turned away from her, hot tears streaming down his freckled cheeks. She stared at him for a moment and then sighed.
"We're not allowed to give you any of that information, Terry. Your past wasn't good, and you shouldn't even think of it, anyway! Look to the future! Once you have completed your treatment, you can live a normal life and --"
"Please, just let me go back to my room." He whimpered, his fists clinched and his entire body trembling. He grabbed his notebook off the floor and clenched it to his chest as if he'd never let go of it. "I want to be alone!"
Her gaze shifted to the notebook he was clutching. "May if I take a look at that, Terry?" she said.
"No. Its mine." He said firmly, tears still running down his pale face. "Take me back to my room!"
She hesitated for a moment before sighing. "Alright. Follow me, then. I was hoping you'd be able to leave soon, but -- you just aren't making positive progress."
"I don't want to be in this psychiatric hospital, I want to be in the outside world," he said, pointing to one of the doors that led to the outdoors. "You keep me locked up, and I hate that."
"You have special needs that need to be treated, Terry. We're here to take care of you, and we're not trying to be mean. You aren't ready to leave, we don't want you to hurt yourself or anyone else."
He narrowed his eyes and whirled around, slamming his tight fist into her abdomen. She doubled over and fell to the ground with a wheezing gasp. She pressed a large button on the pendent she wore round her neck, and several people came rushing down the hallway.
He froze and squeezed his eyes, sweat running down his face and neck. He hadn't meant to hurt the therapist, but he wasn't able to stop himself. Anger had welled up inside of him until he could no longer contain it. He was sick of his frustration, and he was sick of his meaningless life in lockdown. His eyes snapped open as he felt a painful, electric sting on his shoulder.
He yelled in surprise and looked around. There was an exit a few steps away. It was probably locked and he would have to smash through it, but freedom would be worth a few glass cuts. There was no way on Earth he would or could take being trapped any longer. He stepped back and then rammed the door as hard as he could.
He hadn't thought it would shatter on his first try, but it had. He tripped and fell onto the ground, and looked back for a brief moment to see people running after him. He got up dizzily, picked up his notebook, and looked over to the gate. Someone was entering in a large car, and he would have just enough time to rush through it. Alarms were blaring loudly, and they threw him off a bit, but he wildly ran towards his goal.
He squeezed through just in time and ran as fast as he could, driven by fear and insanity. The woods surrounding the hospital would provide cover as night fell. He didn't know where he was going, or if he'd ever know, he only knew that he was free from the suffocating atmosphere he had been trapped in for years.
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