Carly awoke to a dark world, seeming to be floating in the midst of a black sea. 'Where am I...' she said out loud to the darkness. A strange and unexpected voice answered her call. 'In a place where you can be free. A place that takes away all of your worries. Carly straightened and looked around, seeing nothing and everything around her. She yelled to the voice, her own strained and weak. 'So...' her voice echoed for a moment before she continued. 'You're saying I'm in a mental hospital?' The voice was hesitant and so was Carly. Was this a dream? Or was it real? Did her family really send her to a mental hospital? The voice finally replied, but not in the way she expected. Instead, she heard her parents voices along with her siblings. "Papa, is Carly dead?" "Yeah, she's lost so much blood." "Maybe we should get her some help?" Carly held back a gasp of shock at her mother's voice and gasped again at her father's reply. "Yeah...that's the only thing we can do. How about that fancy place on that deserted island?"
Suddenly, the darkness disappeared, being replaced by a bright light. She looked up with eyes void of any emotion and flinched as the bright light got into her eyes. "Wh-What the fuck?" she sat up suddenly and looked around. 'Fancy place...deserted island...' her eyes widened and she gave a sudden yell. "I DON'T BELONG HERE!" her voice was almost hysteric as she yelled, but she had a feeling no one would hear her.

Olli Braun had arrived at the Hospice on Sunday morning, and had spent the entire day half asleep in his assigned bed, ignoring his new location. He didn't care. It didn't matter. Inside his own head, he'd died the moment he took a razor blade to his own skin and watched himself bleed.
He hadn't intended to come out at all until his 'prison sentence' was over, but this morning he awoke to a disturbing screech of "I don't belong here," - the phrase that had been ringing around and around his head since he decided he was going to kill himself.
He grunted miserably into his pillow, pushing at his blanket until he ended up squirming his way onto the floor with a muffled wail. Once on the floor he had no desire to move, so lay there on the ground suffocating until it just got too uncomfortable and he finally dragged himself up from the depths of subconciousness.

It was his favourite state to be in, that half-sleep, not quite awake but ready to be pushed over at any second. He could think, but he didn't have to, and he could just enjoy the warmth of being alone in his mind. Sleep was good too. Being awake...not so much. Awakeness was cold and unfeeling monotony until he went with his best silver blade and dragged it across his flesh to feel something. Yes, he did realise exactly how much of a cliche he was, but that didn't really matter, because nobody needed to care.

Upon untangling himself from the sheets and rising off the floor, Olli realised that he was actually still in the same clothes he'd been wearing for about three days and he didn't exactly smell pleasant. His hair wasn't as straight as it should be, his eyes were bloodshot and lined with patchy black, and in general he just looked disgruntled, as if he'd been clubbing all night, every night for a solid week. Ew. Unacceptable, really, for first impressions... lucky this place was up-market enough to have ensuite bathrooms. Olli picked himself up and wandered off to his for ten minutes; when respectably clean he dressed in something generically scenester and painted on his eyeliner. Unfortunately his hair straighteners had been confiscated so he had to leave it to dry wavy...and then out of his room he emerged, wondering why he was even bothering.

He stopped just outside of a door, however, the one just next to his. That had been where the shout came from, hadn't it? And he was sure he could hear staff coming.

After that one outburst of hers, the staff had rushed into her room, determined make her ‘happy’ and ‘smiling again’. She hissed when they’d said that and screamed at them. She’s never been happy, and she never smiled. Even as a child, she never did. Suddenly, a pill got shoved into her mouth along with water. They massaged her throat roughly, making her swallow it and she coughed, wheezing and trying to cough up the pill. She didn’t want the medicine they gave her; she definitely didn’t want to abandon the comfort of her insanity. She knew it was selfish of her to wish that, but she didn’t care. She wanted to give in and go completely insane if it gave her some kind of comfort.

She glared at the staff there and stood quickly. Apparently, the pill hadn’t taken its effect yet, which was good. It was very good. She glared at the staff around her and lashed out, using anything and everything she could to at least kick them out of the room. All of a sudden, her step staggered and her body went numb. She didn’t know if this was from the pill or just coming back to the cruel, harsh reality. She stopped and sat on the disgusting bed she had and just froze. 'What am I doing?' she thought to herself, looking around at the staff, forcing smiles onto their disgustingly fake faces. 'I shouldn't be here...' The staff noticed the change in her attitude and they all nodded in satisfaction. Apparently, they were done with their job for now. They quickly left the room, leaving Carly to her own thoughts.

After they'd long gone, she snapped out of the trance, her long black hair flowing down her back in waves like silk. It framed her pale face, which looked more and more sick with the passing minutes. Walking to the equally disgusting bathrooms in her own eyes, she washed herself, upset that all of her supplies were gone, along with the beautiful earrings she'd had. 'Dammit...this has to be a nightmare.' She scoffed and shook her head, giving a hysteric laugh. "Nah," she said out loud, looking at her crazed look in the mirror. "I'm the one who gives everyone else their nightmares." Wrapped in merely a towel, she fluttered around the room, looking for any of her regular clothes. Finding them confiscated, she growled. They'd taken her clothes because of the chains? Ridiculous. She found some clothes stored away, but a growl ripped from her throat as she examined the clothing. A low-cut spaghetti strap and a skirt that went down to her knees. The only shoes she had were MaryJanes and she absolutely refused to wear them.

She put on the clothes grudgingly and stepped out of her room, seeing another person there. With a crazy look in her eyes, she smirked at him and looked down at her cut nails. She growled again, realizing they'd taken everything she held dear to her. She missed the feeling of the warm blood trickling down her arm and missed the cold metal of the razor even more. She looked at him with a look void of any emotion, and filled with insanity, wondering how he'd react to her.

Olli's blacked eyes closed and reopened again in the slow, tired motion of blinking. He'd stood there and watched the staff go in, then watched them leave, and was curious about what went on inside... especially now looking at this girl who'd just emerged. For all he knew she could have been staying at the Hospice for weeks, months, years - but she had a sort of derranged look about her that made him guess she hadn't been 'cured' yet. It intruiged him.

Not that he believed that there was a cure. Just the notion was ridiculous - people were apparently sent to this asylum because they were depressed, or sliced their own skin, or wanted to die. Right? That wasn't something that a pill would solve. No, in Olliver's opinion, the only way to get rid of it was, ultimately, for the 'patient' to acheive their goal, and die. Unfortunately, he'd failed on that part. The cast around his left wrist and the metal now holding several of his ribs together were constantly reminding him that he was still here, still on top of the miserable planet called Earth rather than buried six feet under its surface like he wanted. Next time, maybe he'd try the blood-loss method. He had been counting on his collision with the ground being more foolproof and less attention-seeking than cutting...but it was unlikely that he'd get a gun or cyanide from anywhere now that he was being guarded non-stop and there was nowhere to hang himself from. But anyway. That would have to wait until he got out of this penitary.

It was the growling that reminded Olli that there was infact another living being infront of him, and dredged him up just above his thoughts of ending himself to react. Pff, some reaction it was. He still looked half asleep outwardly - eyes half closed, damp hair flopping over them too. Uninterested. Bored.

"..."

He wondered if he should say anything. He opened his mouth just a little and touched his dry bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. Without the customary metal through it - confiscated due to being sharp, apparently - his mouth didn't feel right, didn't taste right. He didn't want to force words out of his throat just to talk to some crazy female who undoubtedly didn't give a shit about him. So he shut his mouth again and leaned against the wall, arms hanging limp at his sides, breathing.

'Hm...he doesn't seem to crazy about this place, does he?' she thought to herself, laughing in her head. Of course, no one was crazy about this place. Who would? The only reason to be there was self-harm... Come to think of it, the only reason anyone would want to harm themselves would be because something horrible had occurred in their life. Carly shook her head and let out a half-hysterical laugh. Why was she thinking about this? She never thought about it, only about how nice it would be just to disappear into thin air. The blasted pill must have been tampering with her mind, making her think 'happy' thoughts. She felt as ridiculous as the ridiculous clothes they'd made her wear. She did look pretty, which made her want to shred it up even more. She never wanted to be 'pretty'.

Carly mentally scoffed, happy was just a word to distract idiots from their destiny. Every living thing on the earth had the same destiny in reality, no matter how much they wanted the fairytale ending. Death. No one could escape it. 'The only thing we can do is embrace it...' she thought with a wicked smile, knowing that the guy in front of her would think she's crazy. Nothing new, she was used to the stares and glares she'd get on the street or even from her own family. Coming back to reality, or what she thought was reality, she looked the other guy in the eye and narrowed her eyes.

She sighed and leaned her back against the wall, sliding down to the ground. Her head was still against the wall and she looked up. She felt lost, not in the literal sense. The pill was messing with her mind, making her think, act, speak, feel differently. It wasn't normal for her to think about ANY of this! She gripped her head in frustration and banged her fist against the wall, causing a loud bang to sound through the empty hallway. Staff came running, as expected and she sent them all glares. "Don't touch me." she hissed, standing quickly, her movements agile, like an animal. One woman in the staff stepped forward cautiously with the same plastic smile.

"Now, Now." the woman said, trying to calm her. It wasn't working, it only angered her more. She lashed out with her fists, oblivious to the other people watching.

"I said, don't touch me!" she yelled again, managing to hit the staff woman. She was furious for them messing with her mind. Trying to 'cure' her, or whatever. It was impossible to cure Carly, even if their so-called cure was real. Carly wasn't impressed. It only brainwashed them into thinking reality was 'sweet' and 'nice' or whatever. It made them stupid, in her opinion.

Violet was wrapped up in a dress that had her arms tied in her back. "Why the hell am I in this thing?!" She yelled as a nurse pushed her through a hallway.

"Just calm down. It's going to be alright." The nurse said as she continued to push here. Violet just shook her head. Alright? She was in some place for crazy people and Violet was most certainly not crazy. "Here we are." The nurse said as she pushed her into a tiny room. Violet stood in front of the door and shook her head.

"You can't make me." She said under her breath. She looked up to her side and saw a boy and a girl standing in the hallway. She gave her best smile to them both and let out a laugh that slowly echoed through the halls. Slowly she took a few steps into her room. The nurse undid the tie at her back and started to undo the knots on the dress. "Don't touch me!" She yelled as she used her back foot to push the nurse away. She took out her hands and looked around. "Listen. I'll give you one chance to tell me where in the hell I am." She said as she walked towards the nurse.

The nurse didn't budge instead she just smiled. "Your in a happy place." The nurse said soothingly as she put a hand on Violets shoulder. Violet just shook her head and shrugged away the hand.

"Don't touch me." She said. Slowly she turned around and looked at the wall. "You can leave now." She said to the nurse without even turning to look at her. The nurse walked out of the room and shut the door but didn't lock it. Violet looked down at what she was wearing. She let out a sigh. "Great. Now not only am I in a horror movie I look like the killer." She grumbled. She pulled open a drawer and looked inside. There was a pair of jean shorts that went down to her knees and a white wife beater tank top. She pulled on the shirt and the pants and looked down at herself again. "Decent." She said. She turned to her door and cocked her head a bit Someone was yelling don't touch me from outside. She touched the handle on her door and pulled it open carefully. She looked down the hallway.

There was a boy who was just standing against the wall and a girl who was swinging her fists around and yelling at the nurses. Violet just shut her door and leaned against it. She crossed her arms and looked at the girl. She grinned a bit which may of been a little bit sick of a thing to do but she did it anyways. A part of her liked to watch the girl scream in rage and flail her arms looking so...insane. It gave a her a sort of odd comfort to know that she wasn't the only one.

Just as Carly struck, a man pinned her to the wall and other members of the staff held her arms and legs in place. Another held her head against the wall. "What the hell do you think you're doing to me!?" her voice was harsh and came out in more of a hiss than words. The man in front of her gave a smile and stroked her cheek gently. "C'mon, sweetheart. You're too pretty to be here." Carly stopped for a moment, but then she let out a hysterical laugh, the sound echoing through the semi-empty hallway. "You're trying to trick me. You're trying to give me one of those goddamn 'happy' pills." she said in a cold voice. Squirming more, Carly tried to get free so she could wipe the fake smile off of his face. All of a sudden, a needle was jammed into her thigh, making her flinch and stop.

"That's a good girl..." the staff smirked as she slid to the ground, her back against the wall. It seemed to be some kind of medicine, strong enough to paralyze her and knock her out in seconds. Her body felt colder and colder as the seconds ticked by and she let out a breath. The medicine was spreading through her body as she looked back at another girl, staring at her with a smirk. She swore that if the girl looked down on her, she'd get her. She'd get even for just watching them do this to her.

Carly blacked out...the medicine from the needle taking full effect and making her body slump to the ground. She looked lifeless, and if the staff didn't know any better, they'd think they'd killed her. They quickly moved her body so that she was laying down on the ground, instead of carrying her to her 'jailcell' as Carly liked to call it.

Olliver had grown bored of this fighting rather quickly - it was what one would expect from people in a mental hospital really. Hospice, whatever. They could call it anything and it would still be the same thing.
But he had thought that the other patients might hold on to some dignity. Screaming and thrashing was hardly dignified. He himself had managed to stay calm and quiet throughout the ordeal of arriving on this island and the staff had left him almost alone so far. Now he was venturing downstairs and things might change, he didn't know, but he'd soon find out.
Anyway, he was hungry. So, leaving the flailing crazy girl to her battle with the staff, he slipped away unnoticed and slithered down the stairs, dragging his fingernails across the smooth white wall.

The dining room, he discovered, was nothing special. It vaguely resembled the canteen he'd once ate lunch in at his old school, back in Germany...he may not miss any people, but he missed Germany. He missed his language; not the living human beings who spoke it, but the language itsself. He didn't like English, it was so...confusing and illogical and complicated. It was difficult speaking that and there were so many unneccessary letters and things to remember. Not to mention the English-speaking people who mocked his voice and his country's history.. it was horrible. If he couldn't leave his life, why couldn't they at least let him stay in his own country? It was stupid, really. You'd think if you were trying to force someone to keep living, you'd make sure they were content with their location at least.

Didn't matter anyhow. Olli had been drifting again... he had to concentrate and appear sane or he'd end up being forcefully injected like that girl upstairs.

Shelby grumbled to herself as she entered into the world of this 'Hospice' place. Pulling down her long sleeves so that her cuts wouldn't show, she let herself be pulled into the doors of this hell of a mental hospital. She'd heard about these places; usually in horror movies where the patient gets maimed and killed by some psycho doctor. Her parents dropped her off at the doors, refusing to even come in with her. She knew they were ashamed, but she couldn't help feeling angry. All the people here were in the same boat - they'd all lost it at some point.

She couldn't help but feel awkward as the person at the front desk greeted her cheerfully. "Oh, Miss.. Shelby? Shelby Brightson? You're quite late, aren't you?" The lady was smiling mechanically. Shelby nodded, knowing very well she was late.

"Yeah. My parents had... business. The space still open?"
"But of course."
"Sucks for me..." Shelby grumbled.
"What was that?"
"Nothing." Shelby smiled a mechanical smile right back.

Damn fake people.

Shelby let herself be led to her new room. She thanked the doctor who'd led her there - a tall, slim man in his early 30's, probably - and unpacked her small backpack into her new "home." She thought she was handling this maturely, but she couldn't help but feel contempt, wondering what would happen if she just played the 'insane' card all together; being difficult and loud and all together a horrible patient. She smiled at the thought. As she was thinking, she realized she'd stopped unpacking and got to it.

She sighed, thinking back a little bit. They'd confiscated her razor she'd packed. She should've seen that one coming. It was her best razor, too. And she highly doubted she was getting it back, even when she got out of this hellhole. They probably had some dumb policy saying that anything that could harm you could no longer be in your possession for the rest of your life.

No more school projects that involve scissors.

Shelby laughed at this thought, and then collapsed onto her bed, trying to sleep.