The Psych Ward

They've restrained you. You scream at them to let you go. They don't listen. You writhe and squirm and try to see a way out to freedom. You want it to stop. You've been wanting that for a while.

Tears stream down your face. "Just let me go," you plead.

"We can't do that just yet, Hon."

You aren't fooled by her smooth rounded face or sympathetic smile. She's pumping you full of poison and you know it. They also stole your belongings. No pen in your bag was left behind. You liked that pen.

Time is weird here. You were brought in moments ago, but the evil nurse has come with the next day's poison.

They've just untied you. They've said you will go see some kind of shrink. He's probably going to try to brainwash you. You try to escape any way you can. As you struggle and writhe, the nurses tell you that you should stay calm or else you'll be restrained again. They say they want to stop you from killing yourself again.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

You hardly remember your time in the psych ward, but you do remember your anger and pain. You hated it there. And it wasn't your only time there. But that expirience is the reason you're alive today instead of dying with cut wrists as an undiagnosed schizophrenic.

#fiction #mentalhealth #shortstory #schizophrenia #secondperson