Sunnyside Institution

The bed didn't even creak as the rather small and light boy stretched and opened his eyes, then rubbed at them a bit, yawning. He sat up and looked around his room. Plain and dreary gray walls and only a bed were the things he could look at. Cameron sighed and plopped back on bis bed. Things in this place were so boring. Why couldn't he at least paint his walls a nice and pretty pink? Yes, that would be very nice. He smiled at the thought and got up, beginning to skip around his room, imagining it was a field of pink flowers. He giggled a bit, then stopped dead in his tracks. He looked around and sighed, plopping to the floor in defeat. This wouldst never be a field of flowers.

His mood swings sometimes even wore him out. Two seconds ago he had been giggling, and now here he was, sobbing in a ball on the floor. "I'm never getting out of here!" He wailed to no one in particular. "I'm sorry I hurt Cole! I didn't mean to kill him!" He sobbed more and more in his room before standing again drying his face, feeling anger. "You assholes are all treating me unfairly!" He ran to the door and started pounding on it with his fists. "You hear me?! He knew what I was like! He knew I was off my meds! And he still messed with me! It was his fault, dammit!" His more feminine and childish voice resembled a growl now. He walked back over to his bed and sat on it, grumbling to himself.

He hadn't had a breakdown like this in a while. Or at least, not one he could remember. Now that he thought about it, this had been the clearest day he had since he was brought here. He hadn't had medication today, so maybe that was it. He just couldn't remember because his medication had kept him from breaking down and every day seemed the same. That was it.

After a while of sitting there and going fro emotion to emotion, a worker came in and grabbed him by the collar. "Oi, it's recreation time." The oversized worker pulled Cameron out of his room as he squealed in displeasure, and tugged him to a large room with other people, all completely mellow and staring blankly, either drawing, sitting in front of a Tv, playing a video game of some sort, playing with mind puzzle games, or doing some sort of writing or crossword, or even a word find. Cameron looked around at all the people, not seeing one familiar face, and just sat on the floor in the middle of the room.

Alexa Vega awoke from yet another nightmare. She found herself squeezing the life out of an old ragdoll the nurse had given her a month or so after her arrival. The doll was almost headless now from night after night of terrifying dreams. Alexa sat up in her bed and quietly mummbled to herself about how it was only a dream and Dolly would protect her. An older woman opened the door to find her rocking back and forth in the farthest corner of her bed singing, "Dolly Dolly sweet and smallt. Dolly Dolly kill them all." It was her usual morning routine and the nurse was not surprised to see it, and even had learned the right way to get Alexa from creepy side 3 to innocent side 1 without seeing a rebelious side 2.

"Alexa dear." The nurse said. Alexa looked up with an empty expression. "Time to go play with Dolly and her friends." Alexa closed her eyes for a brief moment, signaling a personality switch, then opened them with a smile. "Do I get a new friend today?" Alexa asked sweetly. "As a matter of fact, you do hun." The nurse brought in old toys frequently as her grandkids outgrew them. Today it was a Peter Cottontail toy. The woman reached her hand out to Alexa slowly, and the troubled girl ran to her side, taking her hand with one and cuddling Dolly with the other. They walked to the recreation room and the nurse got the rabbit from behind the counter. Alexa squealed and took the toy before running away, past a boy.

Rosalind was in the corner of her room. She was going through a terrible withdrawal. She hadn't burned anything in about a week and it was causing problems. She was more mute than usual and she never slept on her bed. She now spent her time by the corner of her room imagining a fire. She only sat there because that is where the heater was. It would sometimes over heat and have the feeling of flames which see seemed almost addicted too. Then a nurse opened the door letting in light into the dark room. "Rosalind. You have to go to the recreation room. And can you actually mingle this time?" Rosalind shook her head. She doesn't mingle with people.

She got up from the corner of the room and walked to the nurse. She blinked her eyes a few times to adjust to the lights. Like a habit, she followed the nurse five blocks behind her until they got to the recreation room. She didn't know anyone personally, only from what she heard from the distance. She knows most people's names, but they didn't really know her. She was okay with that. She was use to not having friends and this was no different. She walked to the couch far away from the boy, and the girl who was acting like a child. She sat on the couch and pulled her legs up to her chest. She knew what was coming.

They like to deliver the pills while people were in the recreation room. That way everyone is numb and playing around like everything is all good. She never remembered anything when she took the pill. Sometimes she will feel like she is in a dream for a day and she will wake up in her room the next morning. The feeling was terrible. If she could kill the nurses she would, but they keep her away from fire. Rosalind's room is fire resistant, so even if she could some how get a hold of fire the room would not burn down the way she wanted. Rosalind has tried, failed, and suffered terribly for it. She used to have a lighter in her pocket, but the took away. Now it is just a memory.

"Doctor Alvarez. Doctor Alvarez!" Grim grey scrubs, stethoscope slowly slipping from the beads of sweat that shelled her neck, and locks of curly red hair pinned in a messy slab behind her ear - only framing her Helter-Kelter expression. Zachary was well aware this would be the image his dull eyes would meet if they were to look at her. The frantic nurse, struggling to contain outraged patients. Had Zack done the task himself, not a problem would have occurred. Instead, he had taken cover in his small corner office, assuming that perhaps for once, the nurses could take care of such a simple task.

"I've paged you six times, Doctor Alvarez! You can't tell me you haven't received one!"

He pulled his heavy head up from the resting place upon his desk, and quickly lulled it back, glancing at the woman from the corner of his soft brown lenses. His long mahogany hair ran in thick locks down the back of his chair. He had pulled both legs up onto the seat, one in a comfortable down position, the other with his foot planted flat on the fabric, and his knee just barely meeting his chin. With a dreary look in his eyes and a blank expression, he nonchalantly rocked his head back and forth, in a suggestive "no".

He had. In fact, his pager was sitting at the top of his paper-filled garbage can, the small indicator light flashing away.

"You've got to be kidding me." The nurse threw her head back in frustration, slapping a hand to her forehead, and gritting her pearly white teeth.

Slightly amused, though the expression was no where to be found, Zack pushed away from his desk, taking on a slow rotation in his swivel chair. The nurse went on and on about responsibilities, and the expectations that come with his degree.. or some crap like that. But Zack ignored her, his eyes fixed on the ghostly flickering light that hung from the ceiling of his small office. Of course this reaction sparked anger from the flustered nurse, who raised her voice further. A slight curl engaged the corner of his mouth in an amused smirk, as the young doctor continued to spin around in his chair, his focus entirely on the ceiling.

"God dammit, Alvarez. You think this is funny?" With a huff, she slammed her clipboard on the desk in front of him and stormed out of the room, throwing the door closed behind her.

Lifting his head from it's limp position, he glanced at the door, his expression blank aside from the slight smirk that remained on his lips. "Was it something I said?"

Planting his feet on the ground, and sitting up in a proper position, he lifted the top paper on the clip board, and flipped it over, taking in the monotone font below.

"Effective immediately, all patients on the right wing of Sunnyside Mental Institution must be relocated to a different wing of the facility. To suggest a more organized method of treatments, it is requested that patients be grouped by age, and no longer mental illness."

Tapping his pen against his lips as he read on, not a muscle in his face so much at twitched.

"Please remember that we do not allow special treatment here at Sunnyside. Previous rules remain in contact.
- Patients may not socialize with other patients.
- Any patient roaming the halls must be escorted by staff.
- All exercises (psychological or physical) must be approved by the head of your department.
- Personal belongings must be-"

Before he had even finished reading the fourth rule, he had let go of the cover sheet, allowing it to fall back into position upon the small stack. Leaning back in his chair and fixing his attention, once again on the ceiling.

"No good."

Even to a doctor, this seemed far more like a prison than a hospital.

A numb feeling was the first thing to reach Jack's mind as he sprang from his medicated sleep. Muffled words as he looked around in his tiny little prison in a haze. The entire room alien to him as he stood before the door. Coughing a bit, he finally spoke. "Ex...Excuse me. Isn't it time for me to be let out?" Unease drew him in, seeing a burly and boorish man stand in front of his door before a low and guttural voice spoke. "Alright. But hurry up. The sound of keys opening the lock were the last he heard before the voices started to speak, whispering in his ear of false promises and covert conspiracies. Run for it. No No, wait for him to turn his back and strike. HURT HIM! BREAK HIM! A twitch in his movements, Jack hurriedly went to the recreation room as the door out of his prison opened. Looking inside he saw several people, mostly mindless and in their own world from medication, minding their own business. Looking over, he grabbed a few pieces of paper and sat in a small corner. Looking around he noticed a pencil, tied to the table by a row of beads. Mumbling to himself, he started to write. "Stupid beads... Can never write well with these things." The pencil struggled as Jack tried to write, adamantly refusing to move with his hand. After a few attempts he tossed the pencil aside in protest. He looked around the room, seeing people enter and focus on their own world. Jack just watched, trying to drown out the voices again. Look at them all. They're mocking you. You're nothing. Nothing nothing nothing nothing. Write again. Jack looked at the pencil dangling off the table, grabbing it and playing with the beads to break the link between them. To no avail, Jack sighed and tried to write again. The worlds sloppily written, a mockery of written word. Instead, flipping the paper over, Jack decided to try and draw without looking. Line upon line, taunting words played inside his head as he focused on the wall.

Annabeth pulled her knees against her chest as soon as a nurse walked in to escort her to the recreation room. She glared at the woman, her blonde hair draped in front of her face. "I don't want to talk to anyone." She said simply. Though the woman shook her head, her short brown hair shaking with it. She raised a perfect eyebrow at Annabeth then held out a smooth hand to her.

"Come on dear, let's just go. You don't have to talk to anyone if you don't want to." The nurse said gently.

Annabeth continued to glare at her, "No. Not with you. I am walking nowhere with you. I don't want to go to the recreation room. I don't want to see all of those people's faces because I know at least one will blabber on about some non-sense that I honestly could care less about. Leave me alone unless you can get the nurse who took me there the last time. He was nice, unlike you who treats me like a child!" She seethed, knowing that she would most definitely get in trouble. She took a shaky breath and stood up.

The female nurse sighed, "Just come on. Annabeth, now." She said firmly. The nurse flinched at the glare that obviously had pure hate in them.

"If someone stares at me as I walk in I am blaming it on you." Annabeth snapped then walked from the room. She was leading the way till she began to slow and the nurse began to take the lead. She led the way to the recreation room.

The nurse opened the door for Annabeth; the girl shot evil glares at the nurse before storming in and going straight for the corner of the room where she passed a few other people. She paid no attention to them, and just sat down as soon as she got to the corner of the room. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them; her eyes darted around the room while she slowly began to rock back and forth. The same nurse walked over to her and handed her some paper and crayons or at least she tried to. Annabeth snatched them quickly from her hands, "Go away now." She said. She stopped rocking back and forth and turned her whole body so she was facing the wall where she began to draw. She wanted to avoid as many eyes as possible.

The thin male sat on the narrow cot that was about as thin as he was, perhaps even thinner. He didn't seem to notice this at all, considering he was sitting on it like it was a thrown. Never mind the fact that he was facing a wall. Walls made for interesting company, anyways. They certainly were a lot more exciting than anything this dungeon had to offer. He was in an odd sort of state right now, strolling along the line separating sleep from meditation. This was a line that Adonis commonly walked, which happened to be the main reason why he tended to collapse from exhaustion at random points in the day.

A quiet creak alerted him that the door of his room had been opened. It wasn't actually a creak, more of the slight swish of the door gliding across the floor, but the word 'creak' sounded so much better. 'Swish' sounded soft and cuddly. 'Creak' was dark and terrifying. 'Creak' was the sort of sound you would hear in a vampire's castle. This was Adonis' castle, despite being nothing close to a castle, so 'creak' was the word of choice.

There was a slight amount of pressure put on his shoulder. It was nowhere near enough to hurt - bah, as if a vampire could be hurt by a such thing! - but it was rather annoying. The voice that came with it was even worse. "Adonis. It's recreation time." It was one of the filthy mortals that worked here. What did they call them, nurses or something? To him they were servants. Every last one of them.

It was a whisper at first. "Lord..."

"What was that?" Of course, he should have remembered. The humans had such terrible hearing. He should have spoken louder to be spared the torture of the voice of that foolish mortal.

Adonis rose to his feet, shaking the servant's hand off of his shoulder. He still had his back to them, but not for much longer. As elegantly as a ballet dancer, he spun around, his curly hair flaring out in a circle around his head before coming to a rest on his shoulders. "I am a lord, and you shall address me as such, mortal." The arrogant tilt of his head, his demeaning stare down his nose, his impeccable posture, everything about Adonis screamed 'powerful'. Sure, he currently had about as much power as a sparrow caught in a tornado. But that certainly was not what Adonis believed. This small room was his palace, the narrow cot his golden throne. Here he had ultimate power, at least in his mind.

Clearly, the nurse did not believe the same thing.

"Lord, schmord. Sorry to break it to you kid, but you're a human, just like every f*cking person here. Now hurry up and get to the recreation room before I call one of the higher ups."

Adonis looked at the nurse. He was short, and so incredibly normal that he felt nauseous. Close cropped brown hair, bland brown eyes, light skin with a slightly mottled red tone to it. Not in the best shape, perhaps thirty pounds overweight or so. Unshaven. Boring. Stupid.

Crack!

The nurse touched his face in shock, his fingers pressing against the red mark that was clearly shaped by a hand. He spluttered for a few moments, then closed his mouth upon realising that he could not find the words to say what he wanted to say.

"That vas for the insolence, mortal." The human's weakness shocked Adonis. He certainly had not hit him very hard, and he was not even wearing any rings. Years earlier, Adonis would have hit much harder, and his fingers would have been practically encrusted in rings. Now, however, he had no more rings. They had taken them all away from him before throwing him in this room. It didn't matter that much. Sure, it was annoying to not have his sharp rings to scrape open his skin, but, when worst came to worst, his sensitive skin was easily sliced open by nails. The worst part was that the servants never felt the true pain that came with his anger.

Adonis strode out of the room, head held high. His long, cloak-like coat swept across the ground behind him as he walked down the familiar hallways. He was headed to the recreation room. Sure, it was not nice following the orders of a servant, but Adonis knew that he would be punished if he did not. The punishment, and the lack of power or control that came with it, was the one thing Adonis feared in this building.

He stepped into a hallway line with windows. The midday sun streamed in through them, causing Adonis to flinch back, hissing in rage. Holding his cloak of his face and any exposed skin, he carefully walked down the far side of the hallway, making sure not to step into the light. Adonis was certain he would burn to ashes if he did, and certainly was not willing to test it.

Arriving at the recreation room in a more or less healthy and whole state, Adonis pushed open the doors, striding into the room like the lord he believed he was. He was always one for an entrance.

"So, who vill be my sacrifice today?" This was not a very unusual question coming from Adonis; in fact, it was quite likely to show up in conversation. The slight accent was also nothing unusual. From a combination of the influence from all of the vampire novels he had read, as well as his sharpened canines, Adonis always pronounced all of his 'w's as 'v's. Most people had gotten used to it by now.

"Vat, no takers?"

((Sorry phone posted on accident))

After a while more people started to come in and she looked around. First Jack walked in. She never figured out what his problem was because before she would get the chance she would go numb from the pill. Then Annabeth came in. She sat away from everyone like Rosalind did. Rosalind didn't know her problem either, but it was obvious that she didn't like to socialize with people. Or something along those lines. Then Adonis came in. It was obvious with him what his problem was. He thought he was a vampire. He would always ask for a sacrifice, but no one would do anything.

Rosalind pulled her knees closer to her chest. She did not want to be in the recreation room. She wanted to go back to her room, back home. Where she had access to fire and could burn things as she pleased. She can't stand not being able to burn anything. Relieving the tons of stress that she had. She just wanted to go home, but so did everyone else.

Just then a nurse came up to Rosalind holding a box of crayons and a sheet of paper. Rosalind didn't color. She never does, but everyday she they try. When she drugged up then she sits down and colors, but until then she is not coloring. "Here darling. Color something." Rosalind didn't take the paper. She just looked at it. She doesn't speak to nurses or doctors either. She hates them all. "Please color. Or do you want a puzzle?" Rosalind shook her head again. This nurse always thought there was something wrong with her because she didn't speak, but the she didn't speak because she wasn't much of a talker.

The nurse sighed and set the crayons and paper on the table next to her. When the nurse walked away, Rosalind got up and moved to another chair, but unfortunately it was one that was closer to the patients. She didn't care though. She pulled her knees back up to her chest and watched the people around her.

Cameron watched as all the people entered the room. One girl ran past him, another had just sat on the couch, two people were drawing, and then there was that vampire guy. He giggled slightly when the man asked for a sacrifice. This felt like a normal routine, but he couldn't really tell. It was like he was coming out of a fog of some sort. A fog that had been there for a long time. Thinking about the fog made him rather sad, and he had just begun to snuffle when something distracted him. Well, someone. A girl was being persuaded to draw. But she refused and moved away from the nurse lady and toward the rest of the group. She didn't look too happy to be there, so he figured he would go and cheer her up.

Cameron skipped over to where the girl was, and gave her a bright smile. "Hi! I'm Cameron!" He said in his naturally higher pitched voice, closer to that of a female while not quite hitting that frequency. Cameron looked around as many nurses and other staff members looked at Cameron pointedly, trying to quiet him with their eyes. He got the hint. No talking. So instead, he sat on the floor next to the girl and whispered. "What's your name?"

Alexa frowned when the scary man entered the room. He made her very uneasy. She grabbed her toys and retreated to a corner by the windows. She knew from the length of time that she had been here that the man did not like the sun. She continued to play in the corner, minding her own business. The nurse came by and checked up on her. She wrote something on a chart and walked away. Alexa barely noticed anyone in the room. She was too busy making a teddy bear save Princess Dolly from the evil bunny on Table Mountain. She could turn anything into a game.

Rosalind was watching everyone when the boy Cameron came up to her looking rather excited. Her eyes grew wide and she looked away from him. He was being loud when he addressed himself Cameron. He was quieted by the nurses near by and then he sat on the floor in next to her. Then he asked what her name was. She wasn't used to talking to others. It was usually a nod or a head shake.
"Rosalind." She whispered with out looking at him.

Soft notes rang in the office. A lone man looking over his notes in a darkened room as a grandfather clock ticks away in the corner. The room itself reflecting the turmoil within Dr. Brookes as papers fall to the floor, patient notes, schedules, order forms, everything being tossed aside and strewn about the floor. Looking around his solitary office, no light except for a deep blue coming from a lamp next to a set of chemicals. Several vials, concoctions of different shapes and sizes adorned the shelf next to his desk. Each one especially labeled by number as they loomed over. Six thousand eighty two, six thousand eighty four, five thousand sixty three, four thousand twenty nine. These numbers meant nothing, more of a reference for his work. Looking over at the clock Dr. Brookes stood, thinking to himself before flicking the lights on. "Recreation. Almost time to begin experiments." Brookes looked over in his newly illuminated office, collected patient files and a face mask. Soon it would be time. He made one last look around his office, noting the intercom and a record player. A smile came to his face, a small idea formed in his head. Taping the button down, placing a vinyl record in the player, turning the volume up as high as it could go, and stepped out into the hall. Almost as if on cue Beethoven's fifth started to play through the intercom to the whole Institution. Walking down the hall, Brookes passed by several nurses and doctors. Most just stared then averted their eyes, others went about their business as he went through the hall. No one addressed him, not a single person would glance in his direction for long. Brookes paid this no mind. Reaching the recreation room, Brookes looked inside to see several patients inside and isolated from each other. He moved his glance from one person to another, never focusing for long before retreating into the hall again. He made notes and went to the testing area, making preparations for his next experiment.

Cameron had just been about to open his mouth to answer her when the creepy music played over the loudspeaker. The nurses and guards suddenly became very busy with there work, the guards leaving the room and the nurses going to the small room attatches to the rec room with a one way window. They could watch to be sure thst none of them misbehave, but none coukd hear. Something clicked inside him, or more like snapped. Something about this music, something he knew but couldn't remember, made him scared. His defenestration's system registered this as anger and Cameron was on his feet, yelling into the open air. He ran over to the table where he saw two people drawing, and he tried to kick it. It was bolted in place. So, instead, he snatched up the boy's paper and ripped it up, then threw the pieces in his face. "HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, ASSHOLE?" He screamed into his face. Then, he realized, this kid had done nothing wrong. Cameron instantly became a puddle of mush.

He dropped to his knees and began to sob heavily, clutching g at the older, and bigger, boy's pant leg. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it! Please forgive me! I'll draw something else for you!" He looked up to the man, tears streaking down his cute face. "Please forgive me!"

Rosalind watched at Cameron turned into a completely different person. He tore up some guy's drawing and then broke down in tears begging for forgiveness. She could have gone over to tell him he was okay, but she doesn't speak. And she doesn't interact with people. But right now she was going to go crazy she needed a lighter. She sprung up the couch and started looking for one. She flipped things over and she dug in the toy box. Luckily the nurses couldn't hear the things she was doing, but they could see her. "Fire." She uttered as she kept rummaging around for things. She was losing her mind if she thought that she could find a lighter in the recreation room. She then called down and went to sit next to the heater.

She calmed down a bit, but this wasn't the same. She grabbed some crayons and a piece of paper and drew her house on fire. The thing that got her here in the first place. The only difference though is that the people in it actually died. She almost cracked a smile, but she held it together. She continued to draw more pictures like that. All her pictures contained things that she had burned down.

Jack just stared as a boy started tearing up his paper then in a moment swapping to sobbing and begging for forgiveness. He looked down and gave a small smile, mumbling a bit. "It's ok. You don't have to apologize." A quick look around, the nurses and guards all left the room. No one but the patients. Then he heard the music. Something about it, the building crescendo that beckoned hell to follow behind it. Something festered, emotions rang, the voices started to speak faster and more panicked now. Hide! Run! Keep calm! DON'T LET THEM TAKE YOU! A half remembered dream, a nightmare on repeat. Jack held his place, looking down at the boy sobbing at his feet. One more look around before he stood, mumbling again. "This feels familiar..." He looked around, seeing nowhere to hide. Everything sterile and unfeeling. The growing maelstrom inside him brewed, the voices overlapping as Jack walked towards the one way window. They urged him to get out. He placed a hand to the glass, soon balling it into a fist and banging on the glass, shouting as the rhythmic pounding on the glass grew more and more desperate. "Let me out! Let me out of here! Let me out!" Fear overtook his expression, nothing could keep him safe and it sank into his mind. He soon stopped, sinking to the ground as the music soon came to a stop. The voices persisted through this, eating away at him as he fell to his side, unable to even stand as the screaming grew.

The boy had just walked away from him. He said it was okay, and just walked away. Cameron was about to burst into another fit of sobs at the "rejection" but then, the boy had started pounding on the glass, and he saw the other girl sitting over near the heater. Cameron suddenly felt the need to comfort them both. He first walked to the girl, Rosalind. He grabbed her hand and smiled sweetly to her. Come with me?" He said, and then led her over to the mirror where the other boy was on his side. Cameron got down on the ground and propped the boy back up, crawling into his lap. Cameron then gestured for Rosalind to sit on the ground next to them so Cameron could rest his feet on her lap. "Guys, it'll be okay. I promise." He smiled sweetly to the both of them, then looked to the rest of the room and raised his voice so the rest of them could hear him. "You guys hear that? We'll be fine! C'mon over." He smiled invitingly to them.

The same thing happened almost every single day, the vampire dude would come in and ask for a sacrifice, the one boy would get mad then sad then happy all in at least 5 minutes flat, the girl who would often start playing with toys, another boy who would randomly freak out, then there was that other girl who Annabeth had no idea what was wrong with her, and here Annabeth was sitting in the corner of the room drawing by herself. She didn't quite consider being anything but lonely. She didn't realize that she had been rocking back and forth and jabbing a crayon down onto the paper till a boy began to speak; the same one who seemed to randomly begin to sob. She turned her head and rolled her eyes, she wanted nothing more than for him to just be quite. She shot him a momentary glare before turning her attention back to the wall then down at the paper that had a drawing with rips and huge crayon dots on it.

The girl sat there, staring hopelessly at her paper. She slowly pulled out another piece of paper and started to sing to herself while she drew another picture. She slowly began to rock back and forth while she focused on her drawing. It wasn't a very pleasant picture since it was of her sitting in a corner by herself, picking at her skin which was dripping with blood on her wrist. She was a great drawer, though whenever someone tried to look at her pictures she would hide it and stare at them till they went away. This made it to where no one knew how good of a drawer she was because she would often hide it from people. She would often draw her thoughts, things that happened in her life, or that made her happy. Though, her happy pictures weren't of people they were often about musical instruments or flowers. So there she sat, drawing the depressing picture, and isolating herself.

Rosalind allowed Cameron to take her hand even though she wanted to be left alone with the heater. She didn't say anything. She sat down next to him and this Jake person like Cameron asked. Cameron said everything was going to be okay and that they would all be fine. "Not fine." Rosalind said standing up. She would not be fine until she was out of this place. She wanted to see it burn down to the ground along with the nurses and doctors inside. She wanted to be the one to do it. She wanted to reverse time and have her family perish in the fire that she started. She was not going to be fine.

She walked away from the boy and went back to her spot on the heater. This wasn't good enough and it was angering her. She needed fire. She needed to see something burn. She took the picture she drew and ripped it up and snapped the crayons in half she used to draw it. Then an idea sparked in her head. She moved off the heater and put the torn pieces of paper on it instead. If she waited long enough the paper should burn causing a fire. Just the thought of it put a smile on her face. Her back was toward the others in the room so they couldn't see that she actually smiled. She didn't like to smile, nor talk to any of the nurses, or even acknowledge anyone's presence. She was not going to let them see her smile.