Chapter 1
Annabeth Chase sighed. Again. For about the seventeenth time as the car got closer to the building and to the proclamation of her insanity.
She had begged, pleaded, cried for her dad to change his mind. She wasn't crazy, just misunderstood. Or at least that was what she was telling herself. Her father looked at her in the rear view mirror. He was dreading saying anything to his daughter ever since he found out about what she did. Ever since he saw her in the most vulnerable state. Her eyes red, crying. He knew he was a horrible father. A father who was caught up in his own little world with his wife and family to notice that his teenage daughter wanted to kill herself.
"Annabeth, darling, don't worry they'll help you!" Susan said in that sickly sweet voice of hers. Frederick winced, knowing that anything Susan said to Annabeth would worsen her mood. He was right, of course, because Annabeth snapped back immediately.
"Hopefully, help me forget about you." Was her reply. Her father winced once again, as Susan looked at him to defend her in some way. Ignoring the look, he pretended to be too engrossed in his driving to say anything. The drive continued in a tense silence before Bobby, bless his soul, said probably the worst thing ever.
"Annie-bet? Are you crazy?" His question got the attention from all the people in the car. Both adults were afraid how Annabeth would take the proclamation from her little brother, and watched as covertly as possible.
Surprisingly though, Annabeth took the question well, and responded in a quiet tone. "I don't know..." It was the last things both adults expected her to say, and Susan was about to reply, but Frederick nudged her. No need to drive with an even moodier teenager, especially since they had about 30 more minutes of the car ride.
Annabeth, of course, saw the interaction between both people sitting in the front row. She was glad Bobby came with her, because he was the only member of the family she didn't resent, or even blame for her 'condition'. Her relationship was rocky between her stepmother, her father, and her twelve year old step brother, Matthew (who stayed home from the trip, on the advice of his mother).
She played with her three year old stepbrother for the rest of the trip, while trying to condition herself to be tough. She would walk in there and keep a straight face, nothing in that mental hospital would surprise her at all. She would be...a greaser. She remembered the book The Outsiders, and how the Greasers would always have the same tough attitude with everyone they met, while on the inside they could be scared.
Or, she could be Katniss Everdeen, who greeted everything with a cool, collected stare, though, with all of her emotional trauma, she was basically mentally insane on the inside. Which Annabeth was as well. Mentally insane that is.
Finally, they reached their destination. "Goode's Youth Residence Hospital" specifically made to treat teenagers with severe mental disorders. Fun. A surge of panic hit Annabeth, and she considered begging her father again, or waiting until they all got out before locking herself in the vehicle. But, no. If she was going to go to this hospital. She'd do it in dignity.
From the outside the Hospital looked like just that, a regular emergency hospital, but on closer inspection Annabeth realized that is was much larger that an average hospital, and nothing was surrounding the building but other buildings similarly labelled, "Goode's Mental Hospital."
The irony of the name made Annabeth smile wryly. Yes, because everything in the mental institution was definitely 'goode'. What she tried to do to herself was 'goode'. The crazy patients inside that she would meet would be 'goode' as well. She bet that they even had a stupid slogan. Any organization with a name like that can't resist having a stupid slogan.
A smiling man in a wheelchair greeted them at the entrance. He had the fuzzy start of a beard, and was wearing semi-formal clothes - as if his job was a desk one. Annabeth guessed that the man was about 30 years or so, but streaks of white in his beard and bags under his eyes made him look older.
"Welcome to Goode's Youth Residence Hospital! I'm Chiron Brunner, Mr. Brunner to you though!" He said with a sort of forced enthusiasm that was at the same time genuine. Instead of answering, Annabeth just chose to stare at him. No need to be friendly with anyone here, not when she's just planning to stay for a few weeks. Her plan was to fake it. Say what they want you to say was her motto for most of her life, and kept her out of trouble with most teachers and even her parents.
She'd read up on the hospital, almost obsessing over it on the computer. The hospital was created by Zeus Olympia, but the boss of the place was Dionysus Olympia, his son. It was made as a kind of safe haven for teens with trouble adapting to the normal society. Which were fancy words for kids everyone thinks are crazy.
You were kept there until one of the doctors approved your leave.
She'd also had a Skype interview with one of the therapist prior to her coming here. They said it was to determine if the hospital could really help her.
"Annabeth how are yooouuuu?" The doctor had crooned at her.
"Fine."
"Do you know why you're coming to our hospital?"
"I tried to kill myself."
"Yes, but what caused you too?"
"I was sad."
The doctor had sighed, as if disappointed with her. "Depression, sweetheart. Your therapist diagnosed you with it." The therapist she'd seen only once before her father decided it was too expensive.
"Alright." She'd said, because the doctor was looking earnestly at her.
She'd also been required to take a test to decipher her mental well being.
Her father looked at her for a second, wondering if she was going to respond before he responded himself. "Uh, pleasure to meet you Mr. Brunner, I'm Frederick, Annabeth's father." He replied, stretching his hand out for the crippled man to reach. Frederick looked bothered by the fact that Mr. Brunner was in a wheelchair, and did what people tend to do when they see a disabled person. Try to pretend everything's okay, but be way nicer.
Mr. Brunner just smiled, noticing the attitudes and reactions of everyone in the group, but not being bothered by them. His actions uneased Annabeth. How could he be so calm? "And, you must be Annabeth," he said, addressing her, "because he looks a little too small to be having any problems at all." He exclaimed, looking at Bobby, who was being carried by Susan, in the way adults usually talk to desired response came from the toddler in the action of a giggle.
"Can you follow me, Ms. Chase? As for the rest, you can leave now, and don't worry, Annabeth is in safe hands." Mr. Brunner concluded. Frederick looked confused, probably expecting to be briefed on what was happening, or at least follow Annabeth through the tour. But, he didn't say anything about it, only "Um...alright. Be good Annabeth!"
Annabeth though, living up to the rebellious teenage stereotype, ignored her dad; instead she bent down to Bobby, who had recently been deposited on the ground by Susan to wander around. "Goodbye Bobby. You're the only one in the family that I'll actually miss."
Bobby who obviously didn't understand the importance of that sentence, instead only hearing the sentiment, hugged his sister. "Bye, bye, Annie." He muttered.
Her parents left quickly after that, dragging Bobby away, probably realizing that the boy might throw a tantrum about his sister's absence.
Annabeth turned around to see Mr. Brunner looking at her with an eyebrow raised. He evidently must have heard what she'd said to her brother. "Alright Ms. Chase, I'm sorry that you're parents had to leave quickly, but some patients are, let's say, anxious about new presences. Please hand me any electronic items you might have on you." He looked at Annabeth's incredulous face before saying, "It's part of the therapy, limited access to the outside world."
Biting her lip, Annabeth handed him her phone, but, as an act of defiance, kept her iPod. Mr. Brunner might have known that Annabeth was keeping something from him, but didn't call her out on it. Instead he led her to the elevator and showed her to her to her room, on the third floor at the end of the hall. Room number 307.
She entered the room to be surprised by the white. Almost every single object was white, or closely related to the shade. "For today, you're dinner will be in your room, as for your breakfast tomorrow, because as I said, some patients are uncomfortable around new presences. You'll be introduced at group therapy tomorrow after breakfast. Your schedule for the week is on the desk. Please, Ms. Chase, refrain from leaving your room at all tonight. Some members can be dangerous if provoked." Mr. Brunner said, as if rehearsed, from the door. He tried to sound lighthearted and bright, but some of the things he said weighed heavily on him, as if he wished that the patients weren't dangerous, and people could frolic as they wished around these halls.
He left after briefly explaining to Annabeth that she was in therapy group number three, and all the members lived down the same hallway.
Annabeth locked the door behind her, and explored her new habitat. The bed was in the centre of the room, with white sheets and a white comforter. She noticed that the sheets on the bed were strongly fastened to it, and the desk on the left of it, bracing the wall had no sharp edges. Nice to know that you trust me so she thought. And, with childhood giddiness, smiled when she noticed she'd rhymed.
She used that as a reassurance that the she didn't really have depression. I can still smile.
Next, she checked out the desk - briefly noticing with little interest that it was white too, instead of the regular brown. On it were two pieces of paper: her schedule and a map showing all the hospitals facilities. At her first glance, Annabeth realized that her schedule was uniquely made for her - not including any other groups lunch or therapy meetings, and even her individual therapy. She didn't know whether to be annoyed or scared that they cared so much.
8:00 - 10:00 Breakfast (required - all groups)
10:30 Annabeth Chase - Individual Therapy (Once a week, required)
11:00 Group Therapy #3 Meets (required)
12:00 Art Room Opens (optional meetings)
1:00 Lunch - Groups 1-5 (required)
2:00 Music Room Opens (optional meetings)
6:00 Art Room Closes
7:00 Dinner - Groups 1-5 (required)
8:00 Music Room Closes
10:00 Bed
The map showed locations of all the places mentioned in the schedule, but she was too tired to study it. Instead, she lay down on her bed and plugged in her earphones and played a song that she likes to imagine applied to her.
When she was just a girl, she expected the world
But it flew away from her reach, so she ran away in her sleep.