Stupid, dumb, retarded.

[Zackie♥Cadaver.]

If thats what most of you have the heart to say then f**k off because she wasn't anything of the sort. Her mind was swirled in uncomfortable, suicidal thoughts, leading her pretty blue eyes to tear. Smooth arms wrapped around her knees as she sat in the corner of her room, black bangs hiding her face from the world. Everything was so messed up right now...She never pictured herself to be in a hospital, the mental wing of it anyway. Only sixteen and on the verge of suicide or extreme depression. Pink lines of scar tissue criss-crossed her arms, purposely done. Her mind could never settle, little voices in her head telling her to do something and if she disobeyed, the voices would attack her nerves, sending her to do something she couldn't stop. Like, Self Mutilation or wanting to kill another human being. Usually in school, she got into physical fights a lot. Some say bipolar diesese or schizofrenia, no one could ever tell because her actions were to violent. Most of the time, she couldn't sleep, causing insomnia for a week or two. When she could sleep, nightmares haunted her. Not stupid, not dumb, not retarded...just 'crazy'. If thats how you want to put it.

Her blue eyes concentrated on the ground, tracing the outlines of the tile mentally, trying to keep her mind off of the pain she dwelled on most of the time. She was skinny and malnourished, her parents never doing a d*mn thing to help her. They just got sick of her and finally sent her someplace elsewhere, was how she put it. No sharp things surrounded her...maybe she could use paper? No...paper cuts are hard to do by one's self. She looked up, moving her locks from her eyes, cards from friends lined one table. Not friends...people who pitied her illness, whatever it was, people who thought they'd be doing a good thing by sending her a card. Maybe she could die here. Just to be good about it...by accident. Maybe a faulty surgery. Suicide was the center of her mind lately and she had to hide from it from thinking about other horrid ways of death or disaster.

Her fists clenched into tight little fists, thinking about all of the people who betrayed her. No family was worthy of her thoughts or love. They all abandaoned her because she was 'crazy'. It was her fault really, but she never intended it to be.

[Dr. Alexandra Sessions]

i f i t w e r e a n y o t h e r d a y
t h i s w o u l d n ' t g e t t h e b e s t o f m e

As a doctor, patients are always telling you how they'd do your job. Just stitch me up, slap a band-aid on it and send me home. It’s easy to suggest a quick solution, when you don’t know much about the problem or you don’t understand the underlying cause or just how deep the wound is. The first step toward a real cure is to know exactly what the disease is to begin with. But that’s not what people want to hear. You're supposed to forget the past that led you here, ignore the future complications that might arise and go for the quick fix.

Alex sighed, crossing her arms on her desk and laying her head on them. She let out a shaky breath and closed her eyes tightly against reality. A quick fix was all that she would be able to manage for now. Maybe later she could figure out how she managed to paint herself into corners time after time. She lifted herself up and moved away, to the couch against the wall, and stretched out across it. She had planned on catching a little bit of sleep between now and the staff meeting in two hours.

And then the phone rang. Alex made a growling noise in her throat as she pushed herself back up off the couch. Her eyes were narrowed in a death stare and she paused with her hands on her hips watching the phone, wandering if she could vibe the person on the other end of the line into hanging up. Sadly it didn’t work. D*mn. She stepped forward and picked the phone up, leaning against her desk and crossing her ankles as she spoke.

Sessions… Yes… No, not right now… I though she—Oh. Alright then… Yes… Yes’m… Okay, bye. Alex replaced the phone in the cradle and glared at it for a second more. She brushed her hair back out of her face and moved toward the door. She had a new patient she needed to check out who apparently wasn’t feeling so high on life.

Now Alex herself had had a fairly nutsty night, herself. It was a miracle she’d made it through the night, much less shown up for work. But working was usually her outlet, so here she was. As it turns out, her ex had managed to find out where she lived and had nearly taken her out, courtesy of Smith and Wesson. A neighbor had reported the shots, but he’d gotten away before Alex could get more than one shot out or the police showed up.

And so here she was, bright and early- ish- to calm herself. Somehow she felt more calm here, like she was more prepared. Apparently the police had gotten an address for him, and were waiting for him to arrive. They said they’d give her a call when he showed up and they had him in custody. Alex knew Jack better than that, though. He was crazy, yes, but not stupid. So she had her gun on her hip, just like always.

Now many people would say Alex must have been mental to carry her gun into a, well, mental ward. But Alex wasn’t mental; she just took reasonable risks. Sometimes she trusted the crazies more than the sane. They were much more predictable and easy to handle.

And after sifting through her memories of the night before, Alex had arrived at the room of her new newest guest. Zackie was her name. Alex took a second, reaching down to flip the safety on her gun, just in case. Zackie was suicidal, as several other people in the building, and Alex didn’t like thinking about would happen if one managed to get a hold of her gun. So she let her right hand rest on the butt of her gun as she opened the door to the girl’s and closed it behind her, moving to sit in a chair beside the door. She kept her hand on the gun out of habit and caution, but her eyes had latched onto Zackie the moment she was in sight. Hi. So what’s earned you a spot with the crazies?

[Zackie♥Cadaver.]

Zackie had stayed in that possision for nearly 3 hours since she'd arrived at the hospital, nothing could make her move. She'd been toying with her lip ring, which she was surprised the doctors let her keep it when a noise was heard, making her jump so badly she almost hit the ceiling. This time it wasn't in her head, it was real this time. Played out and perfect. Zackie lifted her head to the sound. Where did it come from. It was the creak of the door to her hospital room. A frown laid across her face. Oh, great, company, not really what she had in mind at the moment. Especially if it was a doctor or nurse. She watched as a young woman stepped into the room, fair-faced and looking slightly tired. Or maybe a lot tired. Go figure. Zackie could tell this doctor was in no mood today...she really didn't want to make anyone frustrated or disappointed so maybe she'd go along with it today...if her mind would let her. The skinny girl tried to back further into the corner as the woman came closer to her. Listening to her words, Zackie sneered. I'm not crazy. Zackie had heard that insult to many times to count and frankly, she was getting sick of it. Well, maybe the doctor hadn't actually called her crazy...but it seemed like she inferred it.

Zackie's slender hands unwound and raised to her temples, rubbing them violently as her mind spoke to her and swirled with uncomfortable thoughts. I don't know...My mom says I'm phyco. She said innocently, as if this wasn't herself she was talking about. Zackie didn't actually know....what was that concluding about her home-life?