Warning: Violence
Author's Note: This is just a short story I wrote after reading many fanfics taking place in mental institutions. For some reason, I find the idea of Sasuke in a mental institution interesting. Also, this is a bit dark, so be cautious, it will most likely lower your mood so be sure to read something happy afterwords. ^w^
"Do you remember your name?"
The doctor stared intently at his patient, pen poised above the boys medical report, asking the same question he asked every day, expecting the same answer.
"... do I have a name?"
"Yes, would you like to know what it is?"
The boy slowly shook his head, blank eyes never leaving the doll in his hands. He whispered his reply.
"I don't need a name. I only need..."
The boy clutched the doll to his chest, a strange look in his eyes. After a moment, his head shot up and he looked around, confusion clear on his face, almost like he'd never been there before.
"Where am I?"
The boys question mimicked childlike curiosity, his eyes showing only that emotion, but never losing their vacant nature. The doctor mindlessly jotted down a sentence he wrote nearly every time he visited the boy.
'No change.'
"This is Violet Valley hospital for troubled minors. You are one of our patients."
The boy didn't seem to be listening, instead he was poking at his doll like it was his first time seeing it. Then he seemed to take a liking to it and hugged it to his chest, slouching on his plastic chair and bouncing his feet a little. The doctor watched him, wondering how a boy so childlike in almost every way could be so empty. A minute passed before the doctor spoke again.
"Can you tell me about your doll?"
A startled expression flashed across the boy's face as his eyes darted towards the doctor. The doctor didn't mind that the boy forgot he was there, the man was used to it. He often dealt with memory suffering patients, he doubted the boy even remembered where he was.
"... I don't have a doll."
The boy looked to the ground, an almost scared look in his eyes, his skinny arms holding the doll even tighter to his middle.
"Then who is that?"
The doctor irritatedly pointed to the doll, the boy looking startled.
"You... you can see him?"
The small boy sounded scared, his eyes panicked as his shoulders began to shake. The doctor knew where that road was headed. He silently cursed, quickly changing the subject. He'd had enough of the tiresome outbursts of the mental patients he had to deal with.
"Do you know why you're here?"
The boy paused at the question, blinking a few times before relaxing, like he was never upset to begin with.
"Is here a nice place?"
The doctor watched as his patient began playing with the velcro on his shoes. He smiled the fake kind of smile that all doctors had, the one that showed there was nothing he wanted more than to be done with his patient, but the boy was too distracted to notice.
"Of course it is."
The boy nodded, as if agreeing, continuing to stick and unstick the velcro. Moments passed before the boy seemed to remember he'd been asked a question, and took a moment to consider it.
"Then I don't need to know."
The emptiness in the boys voice was deafening despite how softly he spoke. It took all the doctor had not to wince upon hearing it when he went to see the boy every day. Silence reigned for a few moments before the doctor decided the boys check up was over. The daily check ups were not needed, seeing as the doctor knew there would be no change. The boy was lost to his own mind, and in his own mind he would stay.
"Do you want to go back your room, Sasuke?"
The boy blinked, as if not understanding, and the doctor just smiled, his expression showing no care nor pity towards the young patient, for he didn't have any left. He called in a nurse and watched her lead the boy out of the room and down the white hall. The boy began skipping and the doctor heard one quiet sentence before they disappeared down the next hall.
"Come on Naruto, we can play pirates when we get back."
The doctor scoffed and closed his door, remembering the name of the blond haired doll his patient kept so close. He scowled, feeling a small pang of jealousy towards the boy. There he was, forty eight and working full time in a small town mental hospital, a bachelor with a smoking problem and to much stress for him to handle, and there the boy was, happily skipping around in his own little world, not a care at all and perfectly happy to have a small flimsy doll as his only possession. The doctor couldn't understand how one could be so content with having nothing at all, not even a memory. The only thing the boy seemed to remember was the name of his doll. His only friend was nothing more than an object no one seemed to know how he obtained.
The doctor opened his desk drawer and stared tiredly at the pistol that rested there. He sighed and pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, lighting one before throwing the pack on his desk and taking the pistol. He'd been planning on ending his pointless life for a whole year now, the emptiness growing day by day. He couldn't think of any reason to stall any longer. He puffed on his cigarette and checked to see if the pistol was loaded, which he knew it was. As he put the gun to his chin a thought came to him and he let out a hollow laugh.
"After all this time of cleaning up everyone elses mess, now someone is going to have to clean up mine."
He pull the trigger, a bullet piercing through his jaw and straight through his brain, coming out the top of his skull and causing blood to splatter the ceiling, the body of the doctor dropping lifeless to the floor. His last thoughts were lost as the sound of panicked nurses fell on deaf ears, but as the damaged brain rapidly died, one thought remained at the forefront of his mind.
'I wonder if I'll be as happy as that boy once my mind too becomes empty.'