Sorry it's late, I just…. Blegh. Life is difficult
Frisk and chara had sat around and chatted for a good two hours, when Mettaton walked by. "Lunch time! Come along children!" Frisk stepped out, sticking behind Chara. They didn't know anyone, and they were hoping they could blend into Chara's group of friends, and get in without too much trouble.
"Asriel! MK! Come here!" Chara let a little yell out, calling over the two kids Frisk had seen earlier. They both came over, scrambling there quickly.
"Chara!" The white haired child cried. "I was so worried about you…" Chara let out a little giggle.
"Asriel, if you think a little punishment is gonna hold me back, you are wrong! I'm gonna keep on doing what I'm doing, doesn't matter what the people who run this place say."
The orange one sighed. "Chara, one of these days…" She just laughed. Mohawk (as Frisk was starting to call him) noticed Frisk was there. "Oh hey, it's the new kid! I'm MK. you are…?"
"Frisk… If you don't mind me asking, what were you all admitted for? I'm trying to find what crowd I want to stick with…" Frisk hoped they weren't being rude. They stepped through the wide doors into the cafeteria.
Chara piped up. "Well tell you right after we get some food, 'kay?" Frisk just nodded and got in line. As soon as they walked into the lunch bar, the smells that assaulted their nose made them want to vomit. Foremost was salt, strong and acidic and burning their nose. Then there was the putrid stench of mold, and a strong scent of old lady perfume. They looked up to see who was running the lunch line, and it was an two people, an old man and an extremely old woman. The man was reminiscent of a turtle, with yellow eyes and a bald head. According to the name tag, his name was Gerson. The old woman was a nondescript old lady, puffy white hair and gentle eyes. They were given a tiny plate of macaroni, overcooked green beans, and a small, heavily bruised apple.
Stepping into the room, they saw people sitting at every table. Some had just one person, others were full, but it looked almost coordinated. They saw Chara sitting with MK and Asriel, all of them chatting. When they saw Frisk, they waved their arms around in an attempt to get noticed. Frisk let out a silent giggle, and sat down.
MK spoke loudly, "I'll go first! Ok, so frisk, we're having this little contest to see who's the most fucked up out of all of us at this table. So far, it's one vote each." Frisk giggled, realizing they had each voted for themself once. "I am in here because occasionally I get these massive hallucinations where I think I don't have arms, and that the security guard here is some kind of war hero. Honestly, I don't think she minds the second part. When I get these, go along with it. If I figure out it's a hallucination I freak out." Frisk nodded, making a mental note on how to handle that.
"I'm Asriel… I have severe anxiety, um, most kinds. Social anxiety, situational, and any other kind you can think of…" Frisk nodded, understanding. They had probably had anxiety, though they didn't have it half as bad.
"As you know, I am Chara, your roommate. I got stuck here for suicidal thoughts and tendencies, and also homicidal thoughts and tendencies. Fancy labels, huh?" Cara laughed, a snorts somewhere in the middle. "In my mind, I think me and monster kid have it worst.
"My turn?" Frisk raised their hands to ask, since they were wondering weather or not they should tell. Everyone in the group nodded. The first thing frisk did was pull their sleeves up, showing the massive wrapping of bandage, stretching from wrist to elbow on each arm. The group around them guessed. "I tried to kill myself. My adoptive mom walked in. I'm pretty sure I have a bit of anxiety, I have depression, I get these massive night terrors in which I kill all my friends and family, and much more. Ready to vote on who's the most fucked up?" They didn't actually know the symbol for fuck, as their mom never taught it. They just made a crude gesture, hoping the point would get across.
"Alright," Chara spoke, drawing the attention, "all who vote MK, say, 'I'. The table was silent. "All who think Asriel?" Not a sound rang out. Chara looked smug. "all who vote Chara?" Silence. Chara's eyes widened, but they carried on. "All who vote frisk…?"
Everyone said I, except for frisk who simply raised their hand. Upon seeing that they had won by a landslide, they stood up and took a deep bow. Everyone laughed at that. "Why me?" Frisk was confused as to why they had been chosen over everyone else. They all had their problems, which were equal, right?
Everyone seemed nervous until MK spoke, looking down at the table. "You're the only one here who's ever actually attempted suicide. Well, Chara did by accident, they cut too deep I mean, but… Yours was intentional." Frisk nodded. They had guessed as much, but we're hoping to have been proven wrong. Asriel attempted to lighten the mood.
"The Mac and cheese is so… Dry." Everyone laughed, and soon the conversation was back in swing. For a good ten minutes, they'd talked about dumb stuff, until, Mettaton came over.
"Alright everyone! It's time to go to therapy groups. Frisk… you can join chara's group, if only for the sake of putting you somewhere." She smiled, and soon frisk was following Chara, Asriel, and MK to a small room, with a couple chairs in a circle. Everyone took a seat, and Mettaton walked in.
"This is group therapy! You talk about how you feel, honestly, among each other. No adults." He smiled. "Get talking!" Mettaton sauntered out of the room, and the kids. Just kinda stayed still, until Mk broke the silence.
"Got milk?" Soon the whole group was laughing about nothing in particular, and the conversation was back. They talked about whatever came to mind, from their favorite foods to what they think their diagnosis is, until they settled on a more serious conversation topic.
"What were your parents like?" Asriel asked innocently. At that point everyone sighed, and he immediately began stumbling over his words. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to mess it up… Oh, uh, we don't have to talk about this! We fawn um-"
Chara cut him off. "No, it's fine. We should probably talk about this." Chara but her lip, drawing it tight and close to breaking, before speaking again. "My parents are pretty absent. They never really acknowledge my existence… they feed me, pay for my stuff, but we never do anything together. They just kinda ignore me." Everyone in the group took a moment to process this information, breathing deeply.
MK woke up next, wringing his hands around each other. "My mom is always working really late, out all night trying to pay the bills… My dad sits around drunk, or goes out to stay with sluts." MK got a scowl. "My mom deserves so much better than that sack of shit!" Everyone nodded, agreeing. Chara rung her hands, pulling the skin so tight it was pale.
"My parents were great! They just… Put a lot of pressure on me…" Asriel decided to go next. "If I don't get all a pluses, they scream at me. They act so disappointed. They're always trying to get me to do things I really don't want to do… When it came to light that I needed hospitalization, they were so disappointed in me…"
Chara looked him dead in the face. "Asriel, there's no shame in asking for help. You got what you needed. This was good for you, this would be if the people here weren't shit!" Chara clenched their hands. "I want to kill them! I want to take my hands. Around their throats and choke until their lips turn blue! I can't stand them! I-"
Frisk could tell that Chara was working herself up, and gently out a hand in hers. Chara took a deep breath and turned to frisk, signaling them to spill their beans. "I… My first parents were fantastic. I lived with them until I was 7. They really loved me, but… They went grocery shopping, and a robbery happened. They got shot. I was then moved into an abusive foster home, I got beaten as much as possible. When the cops found out, I was moved to a new home, where I was adopted. I refused to speak from ages 8-12, as I couldn't let go of my past… I spoke for three years until I was caught about a week ago."
Everyone was shocked, and soon they were all holding each other in comfort and tears.
"Peachford mental hospital, how may I help you?" Mettaton picked up the phone, only to be greeted by a rough voice.
"You are in danger of getting shut down."
"Mr. Blook! Ah, how nice to talk…what do you mean by get shut down?" Mettaton swallowed dryly, nervous. Mr. Blook ran the company of mental hospitals dotted across the southern area, and his held a great reputation for mental health. If he found out about their current operations…
"I'm sending two new social workers. If you don't have the place running well in 3 months, than I will shut it down. I will not lose my prestige."
"Of course!" Mettaton hung up the phone, and gripped his head in his hands. They were doomed.
Hey I know no one is actually reading this story but yeah, here's chapter two. I'm sorry it's late, life is getting in the way and stuff. Summer vacation's coming up soon so I should be able to write more. Goodbye I guess?