Chapter Two

Ian woke up in a plain-looking room. It had two sets of bunk beds in it, one of which he was occupying the bottom bunk of, two chests of drawers beneath the window, and that was it to the room save for a basic analogue clock hanging on the wall. There was a doorway which he could see other people through. All of them wore grey. Ian looked to the foot of his bed to see a matching grey outfit waiting for him. With a sigh he heaved himself out of bed and looked at the chests of drawers to see two drawers with stickers on that bore his name (very unlike Ian, his curiosity subsided, and he didn't even glance at the other stickers to see whom he would be rooming with). He went in to one of the drawers to find several sets of boxers, socks, a pair of black swim shorts, and a pair of plain slip-on shoes. In the other he found two more of the grey outfits, two white towels, and a net wash bag containing soap, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a face cloth. Well, his wardrobe was even less extensive than his one back home, if that were possible. He grabbed a pair of clean boxers and socks, a towel, his wash bag, and then pulled on his hideous grey outfit before wandering out of the room to find out where he could get a shower.

"Woah, where do you think you're going?" A guy in an authoritative outfit asked him as he went in search of the bathroom.

"Shower?" Ian said rhetorically, staring down at the belongings which were in his arms for explanation.

"No smart ass remarks, kid. You should be in a session," the 'guard' told him, pointing down the long corridor to a set of double doors. This didn't really tell Ian much.

"Sorry, I'm new. Came in last night," Ian shrugged, looking down to his feet uncomfortably.

The 'guard' nodded, "Okay, in which, case, if you wait a minute, I'll have someone come and tell you the ins and outs and how everything works." He then spoke down to his radio, telling someone to come down to 'Elm 3'. He noticed Ian's look of confusion and explained "Each floor's named after a tree, and each room is numbered. You're Elm 3. Six rooms to a floor, a shower room and then a bathroom – toilets, sinks, mirrors – a pill station, and a rec room. I'm a monitor. Minimum of two of us on each floor – depends on risk assessments for the floors – six on the bottom two floors. Ground floor, Willow, is where the dining hall is, the large communal hall, the group therapy rooms, and the library. Beech is second floor, there's the individual therapy rooms, clinic, and solitary. Oak is next, that's the same as this – living – and then you, Elm, are fourth floor. Ash is above us, also living, female, and Larch is the top floor, that's where all the offices are, the on-call rooms, and the live-in quarters for staff."

Ian stared at the monitor in confusion. "Am... am I meant to remember all that? 'Cause I only got up ten minutes ago and I'm still high on tranqs."

The monitor shook his head with an understanding smile, "Nah, most of the time the place you'll need to be in will be written on your timetable."

"Damn, I thought I was done with school," Ian said flatly. The monitor laughed and looked behind Ian towards a guy in an outfit which looked similar to scrubs, but white instead.

"Joe, is this the new one?" They called towards the monitor, whom Ian assumed must be Joe.

Joe nodded his head and said "Yep, this is him. Just been giving him a verbal map."

"Okay, I'll take it from here, thanks, Joe." The guy said. "Hello, I'm Kurtis. Who are you? I'm sorry, we had several newbies admitted last night," Kurtis chuckled lightly as he looked to Ian.

"Ian… Gallagher." Ian replied, not looking the guy in the eyes.

Kurtis nodded and looked down a clipboard, "Yeah, okay. You're in for bipolar disorder, is that correct?"

"Apparently." Ian grunted.

"You're on six hundred milligrams of lithium morning, afternoon, and evening, twenty of lurasidone in the morning, and five of asenapine in the morning and evening, so let's go and get your first dose and then I'll take you out of the way to explain some more about how we work here."

Ian nodded and followed Kurtis to the pill station where he was asked his name and then given a paper cup containing his pills and a cup of water. When asked if he had eaten (he hadn't), he was given a granola bar and made to eat there before taking the pills in front of the dispensary nurse. The nurse leant slightly over the dividing wall of the 'hatch' and told Ian to open his mouth and raise his tongue so they could check he had taken the medication. He begrudgingly did as instructed before being taken away by Kurtis to an empty individual therapy room on Beech.

"So, Ian, as you saw, pills are checked on a list. They're also done on an identity card scheme, however, yours hasn't been issued yet, so that was why I had to speak to the dispensary nurse on your behalf. If you don't get your pills an hour after the desired times, you'll be called over the loudspeaker to go and take them. You have a timetable to follow to help you integrate yourself in to recovery. Visits are Wednesday and Sunday afternoons, but that is based on behaviour and cooperation. There is free time scheduled in to your timetable, but again this is based on attendance to individual and group therapy. So, if you don't attend a session you would have to attend it in your free time." Kurtis stopped for a moment. "Are you following so far?" Ian grunted out a yes.

"Good. Wake up is around eight, breakfast is eight thirty, so that gives you time to shower if you wish. You then have to get your pills after breakfast, and your first timetable slot of the day begins at nine thirty. Each session is an hour and a half, but some sessions are flexible and may finish earlier or later than others, so there are fifteen minutes spare between each timetable slot. Lunch is at one, and you have until two to eat and get your pills. You have one last timetable slot for the day, and then your free time is from three thirty until dinner, which is at six, and lights out is at nine thirty, so again you have some free time to yourself between dinner and lights out if you prefer to shower in the evening." Kurtis looked through some sheets on his clipboard before pulling out a sheet of paper and handing it to Ian. "Your timetable. It's colour-coded, and the locations you need to be in are written on there as well." He paused. "There's signs at every staircase saying what is where, so a map isn't necessary.

"So, I'm sure Joe told you that we have a solitary section. It's used for non-cooperation, acting out, poor behaviour, and sometimes for the safety of others or yourselves. There is an area for sports and exercise outside, we also have an indoor pool and gym on the grounds, and as Joe mentioned there is the library on Willow. These areas are treated as a privilege, so poor behaviour will lead to you not being able to be admitted to these areas. This brings me nicely on to the card system. You have an identity card with a barcode which is unique to you. This allows you to access areas, kind of like in universities and colleges. You can access your own level, the two lower communal levels, and the privilege areas, but as I said, the latter are if your behaviour permits it. And finally, we work on a three strike policy for solitary. Three strikes in a week and it's solitary. It's not very enjoyable, so I advise you avoid it by cooperating." Kurtis cleared his throat. "Now, I think that's everything apart from getting your I.D. card sorted. We'll go and do that in a moment. Do you have any questions for me?" Again, Ian was quiet and simply shook his head, trying to appear as though he had taken in and understood what had been said to him. "All right then, come with me." Ian was then taken to an office upstairs where he had an I.D. card made with his picture and barcode on. He was told to keep it clipped on his person in a visible place.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, you can make a call once every other day to your family or a friend, again based on good behaviour and cooperation. So, with everything said, feel free to go upstairs and shower. You aren't expected in any of your timetable slots today as it's your settling in day, so feel free to explore and make yourself familiar, but don't disturb any sessions. I'd advise the library for today maybe."

Ian nodded for what he hoped was the last time and walked away from Kurtis, not thanking him, simply making a beeline for his room to fetch his things from his bed to shower.

In the shower room, he saw what looked like the shower room of a locker room in a high school, cubicles with curtains filling the centre of the room and a hook for one's towel outside of the cubicle. Ian stripped down, placed his clothes on a work surface on the edges, and made his way in to a cubicle, hanging his towel outside and taking his soap and wash cloth in with him. He turned the water on as hot as he could handle it and just stood with his hands against the wall as the spray trickled down his back. Everything he had been told today had just gone over his head. He was being medicated for a disorder he didn't have, and being forced to live with a bunch of loons. Could Ian's life be any shittier?

"No, it could not," Ian muttered to himself, reaching to turn the heat up a little. "No, it fucking could not!" He yelled, punching the cubicle wall repeatedly, his body full of rage. How could they? How could his family let this happen to him? Why had they not fought for him? It just didn't make any sense. It was as though they hated him. At this thought, he felt one single tear form in his eye and get washed away by the shower. He felt so betrayed. He continued to punch the wall as the hot water pounded down on his back, almost scalding his pale skin. He didn't care though, he just felt so angry and so hurt. His emotions felt insanely conflicting and confusing right now, and he didn't know what to make of them, or of himself for that matter.

Finally, when Ian felt just a fraction better, he stopped pounding the hell out of the shower and his knuckles and turned down the shower to wash the blood off of hands. Stopping the blood, though was another thing.

With a sigh, Ian wrapped his wash cloth round one hand and kept his towel on the other. Once he was dressed, he made his way out to find the clinic and get some Band-Aids. When he got there, the nurse asked nothing (which he was slightly surprised about), and simply sat him down whilst she cleaned, sterilised, and wrapped his hands in bandages with a little gauze. "Better than a Band-Aid," she smiled warmly before asking Ian for his I.D. card, explaining that she had to log his visit in to the system. When he asked why, she said that it was just to keep his medical records up to date. She handed back his I.D. card and sent him away with a warm smile, explaining the laundry system to him when she saw him go to pick up his blood-covered towel and wash cloth (there was a collection every other day). Ian grunted out a thanks before heading down a floor to find this rumoured library. He saw the larger rec room and several group therapy sessions happening on his way to the library. What he found was much larger than a high school library.

For a while he just looked across the titles. Ian had always enjoyed reading. It was like an escape, like being able to get away from his crappy life, and instead he could pretend to be viewing someone else's life, better or worse than his. If it was worse, it made him feel better about his own, and a better one he would let himself fall in to the story, imagine he was that character and that, for then, that better life was his.

He left the library with a copy of Charles Dickins' Great Expectations, a classic he had seen on TV and thought it wasn't too terrible. And after that he made his way back to his room to start the book. He wasn't far in to his book before he had fallen asleep, the novel open on his chest.