Zak Ciaran's Story

I walk into Tearmainn and I am greeted by a nurse. "Hello and welcome to Tearmainn Dr. O'Neil. Would you like a brief description of each patient, Doctor?" I nod my head with a faint smile as I walk with the nurse and she describes each patient.

"Patient number 100, Zak Ciaran, 19 years of age, suffers from Schizophrenia, danger to mostly himself, slightly paranoid, small case of SPD, fragrant smoker, curses a lot, antisocial, OCD, and slight speech impediment. Had him on record for about three years now."

"Patient number 101, Madelyn Rayburn, 19 years of age, suffers from severe paranoia, possibly dangerous to herself and others, avid addiction to smoking, occasional drinking, rarely occurring episodes, can have delusions. Has been here about a year now."

"Patient number 102, Damian Mason, 23 years of age, suffers from Hematolagnia, danger to others. He hasn't been here too long so we don't have much on him."

"Patient number 103, Rosie Clark, 18 years of age, suffers from serve MPD, three personalities as of date being 'Rosie' 'Kelly' and 'Julie', does not know of the 'others', slight danger to others depending on who's 'out', raped as child by father, mother disappeared. She has been here about a year or two now."

"Patient number 104, Harlan Sheridan, 21 years of age, suffers from sociopathy, danger to others emotions, needs constant mental simulation. He's really twisty, he has been here for about 6 months or so."

"Patient number 105, Arrow McBeth, 17 years of age, suffers from server depression, socially awkward, anxious, lack of emotion, danger to herself. Hasn't been here too long."

"Patient number 106, Tristan Kenin, 19 years of age, suffers from psychopathy, lacks understanding of emotion, has no feeling emotion wise, not much of danger, slight danger to others in the lack of emotion wise. Hasn't been here too long."

Seven patients I have to talk to. Seven patients I have to help. Seven patients all with different problems who grew up in different circumstances. "I'm ready to start talking." I say to the nurse. "Start sending each patient one by one in order to my office so I may introduce myself." The nurse looks at me strangly and I walk in my office as she head down to the recreation room to get the first patient.




The Recreational Room, the place where all the patients in this damn MadHouse can come and interact. Hardly any interacting every happens because everyone's so damn antisocial. You're the antisocial one, Zak. Then there's those fucking voice. They calm down after the nurse give me those pills in the morning, but they still keep talking.
In the Recreational Room, everything is clean and neat. There's a carpet so people can't smash each others faces into the ground. There's couches in front of a TV that's locked in a bullet proof plastic box that's bolted to the floor so no one can smash there head in the TV to kill themselves. There's a coffee maker and a kettle for tea that both stop heating so no one can kill themselves by pouring boiling water on their head. And the only eating utensil they give us is a plastic spoon. Not a spork, a spoon! A fucking spoon! Have you ever tried eating steak with a spoon? Well it's fucking hard!
I sit at the round table in the recreational room next to the window and I watch every body and listen to the voices in my head. No body likes you...Kill them all...hurt yourself and leave...Kill! Die! Hurt! They just don't stop. Then I feel a hand on my shoulder and jump then look up to see a nurse. "Dr. O'Neil would like to meet you." I know the deal, so I stand up and follow the nurse into some old guys office. The old guy was little and had glasses that made his eyes look big. Ahhhh! The voices scream instead of talk sometimes to just get on my nerves and make me go crazy. The nurse sits me down in the chair in front of the doctors cluttered desk.
"Hello, Zak, I'm Dr. Addi O'Neil. I'm the new psychologist and I'm here to tell you that we are dropping your medication." The Doc says with a smile on his face. At this the voices scream louder.
"Dropping the medication? Why? We can't drop the medication. I need it." I say as I shift around in the chair trying to get comfortable and ignore the screams.
"Yes, Zak. I don't believe in medication. The only thing to help is to talk, do you understand?" The Doc said calmly.
"Yeah, Doc, I understand perfectly well that you're a fucking idiot!" At the sound of my yelling, the nurse comes in and walks me back to the recreational room and gets the next patient.

Almost as soon as I had gotten back to the recreational room, I was summoned again to go meet yet another doctor. Doctors will find you unfit to live. Doctors will harm you. Doctors will hate you. The voices said. It was already getting worse. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" I said, putting my hands up and pushing my palms onto my eyelids. The nurse walked me along and the further we walked, the louder the voices talked. So, I decided to talk to myself. Thinking to myself is no help, the voices just over think my own thoughts.
"I'll find someone...someday. I'll find someone who will love me and help me and I'll love and help them.." I said quietly. It was normal for me to think aloud to myself, so no one really paid any attention to it. No! That can never come true! 'Cause no one can ever love you! You'll be stuck with us for the rest of your life! AHhhhhhaahahahhahaha!.. Their loud hideous screams and laugher was too much for me to take. I started to panic and looked back at the nurse real fast and looked back forward just as fast. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" I yelled as I managed to bang my head as hard as I could two times on the wall. The nurse grabbed my arms and pulled me away from the wall before I could get another hit in. Two other nurses came and helped drag me into a room that had some lady in it. One of the nurses opened the door as the other two pushed me in and sat me in the chair. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rested my hurt head on my knees and held the back of my neck.
"Here's Zak Ciaran. He had an attack in the hallway and knocked his head a few good times on a wall. I tell ya', this ones pretty crazy." The nurse said before her and the other two nurses went back out into the hallway and closed the door.

After reading through a file, Sonya pivoted on her heels once she heard the sound of the door opening. In walked a young man accompanied by a middle-aged nurse. Just by settling her sight on him in visage he seemed extremely troubled. Keeping her eyes on the young man ceased subsequent to one of the nurses saying.

"Here's Zak Ciaran. He had an attack in the hallway and knocked his head a few good times on a wall. I tell ya', this ones pretty crazy."

The door closes.

The session can begin.

A flash of irritation dampers her face. Nothing bothered Sonya more than nurses commenting on the behavior of patients. The job of a nurse entailed the physical health, hers, the mental/emotional. It was inappropriate in a sense but unethical because they have no control over it. Personal opinions should never get in the way of work. In retrospect, she could understand why the patients disliked the Doctors and staff; just look at the way they talk about them. Talking as if their not even in the room. Half of them might be out of their right mind but they still have feelings. They're still humans; she's human - they're all the same.

Taking slow steps as to not alarm Zak furthermore, Sonya rested a hand on his shoulder blade in the hopes of him raising his head.

"Don't mind her. We all go a little crazy at some point in life."

Again, she made her way over to the crafted obsidian leather chair and sat with her legs crossed over one another. As she rested her hands in her lap, her overpowering icy stare finding his.

"Hello Zak, I'm Dr. Asano but I would prefer you to call me Sonya... no need to be so professional." The softness of her voice began to permeate the room. "I won't shake your hand, I'll leave that too you."

A few seconds of silence.

"Well, I hear Dr. O'Neil has decided to discontinue your medication." Sonya said with melancholy, not bothering to mention her difference of his decision to cease the use of Zak's medication. She would much rather have Dr. O'Neil to set him up on an placebo. "I can't say that I agree with that because I would be lying if I did."

Slowly Sonya released a deep harboring breath. "So, Zak... I hope I'm not talking your ears off. Why don't you tell me about yourself."

((OOC: Sorry, put it in the wrong place, I'll fix it now))

I looked up at the doctor with no set emotion on my face and I just watched her. She's a doctor, Zak. She'll just make things worse like every doctor does, Zak. The voices spoke. They weren't as loud as they were in the hallway on the way here, but they still want to make everything so difficult. I lift my head and dragged my arms down to where they were hugging my stomach and clenching the side on my shirt. My knees were still up in the chair, but were slanted slightly to the right. I laid my head back and tilted it slightly to the left and looked at the doctor.
I laughed and put on a slight fake smirk as the doctor, Sonya, asked me to tell her some about myself. "Tell you what, doc? You've read my file, haven't you, doc?" I said, my Irish accent showing heavily on every word I said. "What am I suppose to say that you don't already know?" I added, getting a quit serious look on my face. "I'm fucking mad just like the rest of 'em say. I'm fucking mad. Fucking insane. I heard bloody fucking voices in my head that tell me to kill and hurt people, doc. And if I don't do what the fuck they say, they start yelling at me and sayin' to go kill and hurt myself..." I trail off. I can feel my eyes becoming watery with everything I say, but I don't let them fall. Tears are a sign of weakness. "Is that what you wanted to hear, doc?" I say as I stare blankly at her for a moment then switch my gaze to the ceiling and stare blankly into space, listening to the voices scream and curse inside my head wanting me to have another attack and hurt myself or someone else again.

A pseudo smile fell over her lips as she shook her head sensibly. It was always relieving when patience released information about themselves but something about Zak's deliverance rooted her in concern.
"Actually...no. That was not what I wanted to hear." Sonya spoke through the clear disappointment peppering her face. Yet she knew it was not his fault, the other Doctors programmed it into him. "I would much rather you tell me about personal interest, y'know favorite book, movie. I'm sure they have TVs' here."

Sonya pursed her lips together after coming to conclusions. He did not know. She would tell him.

"Zak, I don't know how other Doctors work around here but you will find that I'm not the same. You're supposed to hate us because we demand your trust... but I don't want it - at least not yet. I don't deserve your trust and I won't ask you to pretend to give to me. You hate me and that's okay." She continued, her eyes never leaving his. "You can never trust a person you hate. But I just want you to know this - I hope that I can prove myself, to show you that I deserve it. I'm not asking for it today, hell I'm not even asking for it six months from now. But whenever you're ready. I'm here."

With probable cause of seeing him talk about his problems although a bit forceful, it was still progress. And if he had the desire to get out of this place then he would need to show lots of it. Sonya was never one to hold people against their will. "If you would like to leave then by all means, I'm not one for holding people against their will." She glanced down until she found her hands. "Unless you would like to stay."

I looked back at the doctor with a raised eyebrow at what she said about that not being what she wanted to hear. Then hearing her say she wanted to know about personal interest made me laugh and I rolled my head on the back of the chair knowing that can't be true. Because it's not fucking true! It's not true at all! You should just be locked away and never be let out like the fag you are! Ahhhh!! The voices said and my smirkish smile and laughing ceased to exist. I went numb and looked at the doctor with no emotion at all. Just numbness.
"Sure, doc. Whatever you say, doc." That's all I could say after her little speech about trust and hate. And in all she said, I don't hate her. I just don't like her. She's a doctor. And all doctors do is say how we can get better if we try and how we need to find a cure and shit like that. But what they don't understand is that sometimes there is no cure. Sometimes, people just don't get better.
Then, the doctor had told me I could leave unless I'd like to stay. "Humm, let's see, doc. Stay here and talk or go back to the recreational room where all people do is sit by themselves and read. Humm, it doesn't make a difference to me, doc. Both places has voices that never stop. Humm, what a tough discussion. Hang out with a doctor or some crazy guy who goes in awe at the sight of blood. Humm...doctor, blood, doctor, blood..." I said with each word drowned in an ocean of complete and utter sarcasm. Leave! Leave and go! Leave and go! Go! Go! The voices kept yelling at me, telling me to leave and go and I know why. If I'd leave, they'd make me go insane all over again and try to make me hit my head again. So this is a really hard choice. I could go and risk getting hurt again or I could stay here and risk having an attack in front of a doctor. I don't know. I just don't know.
Instead of saying any answer, I stand up shaking my head and walk out of the office and head back to the recreational room with the voices screaming and yelling the whole time I walk.

After a while of sitting in my room alone, I decided to go to the recreational room out of boredom and the fact that I'll have people to distract me from the voices. Why bother living? You have no happiness. You have no love. You have nothing but this damn hospital and these damn people you hardly ever talk to. Just give up. Give up. Give up! The voices screamed as I walked down the hall. I decided to bring my pillow out with me. I was holding the pillow up and had it around the back of my head covering my ears so filter out the voices. It hardly helped at all, but I imagined it did. It mostly just calmed me down enough to where the voices don't seem to bother me as much.
As I walked down the hall with the pillow up over my ears, I looked at the wall and the floor. The floor was a pure white small square tiles with a blackish-grey of filler separating them from touching. The wall was panted a light grey, almost white, color. Why was there so much white in this mad house? It confused the shit out of me. I kept walking until I got to the recreational room door then put the pillow in my arms before going through the door. I did my best not to pay any attention to anyone and went right over and sat at my little table in the corner next to the window and stared out it. I guess that's what always happens eventually in a mad house. You end up just becoming a face in a window. Doing nothing all day but stare out that window and think about the same thing you think about everyday since you got here. It's a tedious existence living in the mad house. It's the one place, like jail, where you could live there forever and not even spoke one word to the person in the next room, or cell, next to your own. The one place where you could go by day after day and not even speak a word. And the only thing I do is sit in a room full of other patients and never speak to them, just sit over by a window and just look out, being consumed by the voice. The voices grew louder and louder, so I lifted my pillow back up and put it behind my head and over my ears. This, however, didn't quiet them down, but it helps me keep calm enough to not pay attention to them.

There was a time Logan might have looked at the tall sterile building in a curious and adventurous light but all that came to mind when he first laid eyes on Tearmainn was that this was the type of place Florence was hiding at. Florence, his ex-wife… Just the mere thought of her brought painful memories back to mind. He shook his head and sighed. Stop it. It’s in the past, there’s nothing you can do about it now, he told himself. Walking forward he made it to the entrance and pushed his way inside. A small mousy looking nurse looked up from her clipboard and peered at him from the tops of her glasses. She gave him a small smile and asked in a quiet voice, “Hello, how may I help you?”

Logan took a moment to look around the reception area before looking at the nurse. “My names Logan…” he said in his usual quiet manner. Still, his voice was deep and carried down the hallways of the asylum. Flustered, the nurse looked down at a sheet that seemed to have a list of names on it. Nodding, she collected a folder and handed it to him. “Your living arrangements have been set up and all the information you need is in this folder. I have been informed you were forwarded basic information on the patients, have you studied the files?” she asked, blinking up at him.

He nodded wordlessly to the nurse and watched as she floundered to find something to say. A small smile stretched the corners of his lips and he took a step forward to pat the small woman’s head. “Calm yourself. There’s no need to be nervous. I’ll find my way to my quarters now. Have a nice day.” He said and by memory (he’d studied a map of the asylum before-hand) made his way towards his designated area.

A half hour later, he’d unpacked his belongings and was ready to make his rounds. He’d been informed that he had to introduce himself to the staff so they’d know a new guard had joined the staff and they wouldn’t startle at the sight of a stranger on the asylum property. He nodded toward the few nurses that he passed in the hallways and finally reached the recreation room. His eyes took in the patients one by one and internally he put name to faces. Leaning against the “doorway” he waited patiently for the doctor’s sessions to finish so that he may be able to introduce himself.




Drip. Drip. Drip She woke up to the sound of dripping water. It was such a small sound but the silence of the room made it echo in her ears and its consistency reminded Madelyn of the annoying persistence of an alarm clock. Her heart hammered painfully in her head, her mouth felt like it had been stuffed with cotton and all of her was sore and aching. What on earth happened? she asked herself. She made a move to lift her hand to sooth her pounding head only to realize she couldn’t. Her hands… her hands were tied behind her back! Her eyes snapped open but she saw nothing but darkness. What’s going on?!? Very slowly, her eyes adjusted to the darkness but still she couldn’t recognize where she was. The fog in her mind cleared up and she finally realized her hands weren’t the only thing tied up; her legs and waist were tied to the chair she currently sat at. Not only that but a cloth had been wrapped over her mouth. A muffled whimper left her covered lips in fear and anxiousness. Madelyn couldn’t remember what had happened and had no idea how she had gotten there but she felt that she had to get out of there NOW. Her gut clenched telling her that something bad was coming. Something very bad.

As if to confirm that feeling, footsteps suddenly echoed around her. Her head snapped toward the direction it came from, causing the edges of her vision to blur and her head to lighten with dizziness. As she regained from her small dizzy spell her eyes could just barely make out the outline of a door. Her ears s picked up the sound of those footsteps again only now they were so much closer. Her heart pounded against her chest, sweat trickled her forehead and coated her hands with a panic that suddenly paralyzed her. Before she knew it the door creaked slowly open… “Hello Maddie. Did you miss me? I missed you.”

Gasping, Madelyn woke up sweating and panting as if she’d run a marathon for days. Her form shook and for the life of her she couldn’t stay still. Looking around, a small sigh left her lips. She was still in Tearmainn. For the first time in a long time she was grateful that these walls kept her inside because it also meant it kept them out. As much as she hated this place, and Madelyn did hate the place, she secretly thought of it as her safety blanket; the barrier between them and her. The times that she’d suspected the doctors, the guards and even the patients to be in league with them slipped away from her mind. She couldn’t find it in her at that moment to be wary or cautious. She was just so relieved that she wasn’t back in that dark, cold room any longer. So very grateful. This happened every time she had one of those dreams… or memories, really. In those times she acted like she did before the paranoia had set in. Still, any one thing could set her off and make her go back to being paranoid and wary.

A rosy blush rushed to her cheeks as she realized she’d been sleepwalking again. Somehow she now stood next to one of the barred windows of the recreation room. As was custom, she checked herself over for any bruises and found that she’d been lucky this time. Only one small bruise tainted her pale creamy skin. Rubbing at the spot, Madelyn wondered like so many other times how she’d managed to bruise herself again. Shrugging, she leaned against the wall and watched out the window as a random flock of birds flew above the building. A small smile tilted the corner of her mouth as she watched them. They were so lucky. Sneaking a peak behind her she scanned over the other patients faces. Most of them had come here after she had; she could only remember very few that were already here when she was transferred in. Looking down at herself she wondered how she had changed in that time… or had she changed at all?