Snippet #1813865

Are you fixed Zola? a small red haired girl thought to herself as she sat on her bed, biting her lip. Today was her last day, but she was fully convinced that she wasn't ready. As long as I don't have to talk to the idiot doctors and tell them what they want to hear, I'll be ok. I wonder how the world's been without me? Zola stood up, pulling her socks up as far as they would go. They were decorated with neon colored ducks. She smiled and looked around at the small room she'd resided in for so long. "God help me," she mumbled.

Zola stepped out into the hall and closed her door behind her quietly. She nodded to a few guards down the hall and turned the other way. She was sure that she could navigate the hospital blindfolded. Soon enough, she found herself standing outside a circle of chairs. Ah, a good old fashioned 'Hey! This is my problem, what's yours? Maybe we can get through it together!' type of sha-bang before high tailing it out.

"Good morning doctor. Good morning fellow patients," Zola said in a soft voice. She smirked a bit at Akira and Masa before sitting down on the opposite side of the circle. She knew everybody here was a wild card, though Ian didn't particularly worry her. Sure, he was pretty strong looking, but he was also American like her. She wasn't even sure how he'd managed to land himself here either. She'd heard the stories, but nothing made sense.

Sitting back in her chair, she began picking at her fingernails anxiously. Oh, how she wanted a lighter to play with! Set this place on fire, watch it burn, feel the heat coming from it... No. This was what therapy and being locked up was supposed to solve- not encourage. Zola thought about her old apartment. She closed her eyes and was thankful that the scars were few on her body after she'd tried to kill herself.