Do to Mythreyi asking me to put up some more writing, (thank you, i was running out of topics, ) i will be posting some of my old writing for the next (insert number here) days. No more typing, woo!
And if you think I'm lazy, well, you aren't?
Here is my attempt at a fictional story:
I started group today. The usual attending knocked at my door at 8:42, telling me to get dressed for group. I have to admit I was kinda exited, I mean, this is my first communion with the other (alleged) crazies at this place. Could be fun.
As I dressed in the god awful gray running pants and the even worse shirt, I was momentarily distracted by the mound of rigged scars that radiate from were my unscathed heart lies. It is still quite raw, and not just the physical wound, but remembering the feeling of wanting to die as well. I still haven't told anyone about that, and I probably should. Hey, all the more reason not to.
Dr. Mathews seems to have picked up on my little game of rebellion, and it appears that instead of “talking about it” he has decided to play along. You know, I have always liked the guy.
Anyway, as I walk down the horrible mint colored corridors, I try (stupidly) to get prepared. As if anyone could “get prepared” for a room full of people who have been judged and singled out all their lives, and to top it off, they are not the sanest species of the proud homo sapien wandering this earth. There is no right things to say in front of these people, and for that, they have earned my respect. As I round the corner to room 4-G I suddenly realize that am one of them now, so who am I to judge?
I open the door, bracing for impact, but I am quite taken aback to find a room full of faces, once talking lively amongst themselves, now turned towards me in a manner that seem to say “what the hell do you want!?” Every single face has a newly adopted look of stark indifference, which is, in fact, worse than anger, if anyone is taking note. Then, one of the girls cracks into a malicious grin and starts laughing, causing the others to look away and groan, obviously put out that she had ruined their fun. I quickly adopt a nice seat by the edge of the room, escape route in sight, and await further torment, which ,thankfully, comes in the form of the shrink at the front asking me to introduce myself.
“I... well, I'm told my name is Mark.” I confess, hoping that this would appear at least the slightest bit odd to them, but it looks as if that is as normal as a bowel movement.
Now that I get to take a good look around, I can see that there are four other people in the room besides Ms. Shrink. The first one to introduce himself is the guy who sits next to me, a built jock-looking guy with a glazed giddy look, a round pudgy face and hands like plates. He said he was told his name was Chris, but he may have known that already. Oh, what a nice sense of humor eh? Next to him sits an interesting looking girl sporting a huge black sweatshirt, sad eyes, and a look that doesn't seem to want to be here. Her name is Anna, a prefect palindrome. There are a lot of secrets behind those ice blue eyes, I can tell. Some foreign part of me wants to walk over to her, bend down to look her in the eyes and demand her life's story. Sometimes, your instincts seem as if they want to get you killed no?
Next to her sits a geeky looking kid with thick glasses, a lost look, and a battlefield on his face who claims to be an “uh, Kevin”. I have never seen someone so forlorn and so ridden with acne in my life. 'Tis a terrible thing to behold, I must say. Next to him is a tall, spidery girl that had to be the most joyful looking one. Her name is apparently Beth, every single bit of her over 6 foot self seemed to be alive with sparks of eerily fake happiness. I don't think crossing her is advised. She is the one who ended the others game of seeing how much they could unnerve me. Finally, there is the shrink. Tall and demanding, she sits in the middle of our crescent, like a large spider spinning her web, just a bit more playful. Something about her suggests that she was not the most mentally sound person around when she was growing up either.
The shrink clears her throat, and speaks. “Okay, now that Mark has arrived, we can begin.”
“We have already begun, Cheryl” Beth states. Cheryl apparently being the shrinks first name. Sounds like an odd name for a shrink... “Keep up. We are all about to ask Mark here why he has come to our little home away from home.” That smile of hers is just plain scary...
“Um... I guess I'm here because I, for no reason that I know, decided to blow a whole through myself, and failed.” I await reaction, get none, and finish “Oh, and I got amnesia. They must be waiting for me to get my memory back or something.
