Everywhere I Go

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by PrisonerZero, May 21, 2014.

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  1. Celia startled awake. Noah? was her first thought, but on inspection of the room she found that she was alone. She trembled in fear, lost. Where am I? Her surroundings could almost be considered normal, if not for the hospital glare of the overhead lighting and lack of a window. Taking in the details of her room, she noted a dresser stood up against a blank wall, and two doors; one shut, one slightly ajar. When she tried to sit up, her head spun and spots danced in front of her eyes. Celia fell back into the bed and whimpered, confused.
    At that moment, the closed door rattled and she heard the jangling of keys. Fear leaped into her throat and she drew into a ball, shaking. Who had taken her? Why was she here? She wasn't hurt... "Celia, sweetie, it's okay." She jumped at the kind voice at her ear and raised her head to see a woman dressed in white standing in the doorway. A nurse. "You gave us quite a scare for a little while, but it seems you're recovering nicely."
    Celia swallowed; her mouth was dry. "Re-recovering?" Her voice was a whisper. Her nurse nodded sympathetically. "Your brother-" Celia cut across her. "Where is he? Is he okay?" The nurse smiled. "You'll see him in due time, I promise," she soothed. "But for now-" she wheeled in a cart and Celia frowned at the little cups lined up neatly on the tray. "It'll help, I promise. You can't have solid food just yet, so these are supplements to get your health up." Celia obediently swallowed them, and the nurse gave her a pat on the head and left, locking the door behind her. It was then Celia noticed the band around her wrist. Celia Gessati, it beeped at her. Mental health patient. The device gave no other information and didn't respond when she fiddled with it. Where is my brother? she wondered.

    Noah groaned, his head aching. When he managed to open his eyes, all he saw for a moment was grey, before he realized the decor was just that- grey. Where's Celia? What happened? When he tried to move, his limbs wouldn't allow him to, straining but not lifting an inch from the cold metal bars protruding from his bed. Restrained, he thought. I'm restrained.
    There was a terrible taste in his mouth, but he yelled anyway. "HEY! WHERE AM I?" His voice cracked halfway through, but he kept at it until a man clad in white busted in with bruises around his eyes and tape on his nose. "You're awake," he grunted. "Gonna hit me again?" He tapped a needle against his hand, and Noah knew for sure he'd been drugged. "No," he replied. "Where am I? Where's Celia?"
    The man squinted at him. "You don't remember?" He shook his head. "Well, you're currently too volatile to recieve any information whatsoever about your situation. The scans said that you were stable, but I don't think they incorporated your...temper into that. My orders are to keep you in stasis for now." Noah protested and struggled, but it was no use. The man plunged the needle into the port on his arm and an ache spread through his body, numbing him. He tried to keep his eyes open-to no avail-and he felt himself go limp. Shit...
  2. Nee opened his eyes to stare at a white ceiling. It was perfectly clean- unlike the ceiling of the bathroom in his apartment. That was the last place he remembered being, a razor in hand, and blood running down his wrist. He couldn't remember much after that. He wondered if he had cut too deep, and that it wasn't a ceiling he was staring at. Or it was, and he had just ended up in hospital. It was probably the latter. He found himself hoping it was the former. He shoved himself upright and looked around. It looked kinda like a hospital room- one of the higher end ones. He looked down at his wrist, and saw the bandages wrapped around it. Hospital it was, then. He wondered who had found him- his roommates had been out drinking, and if they had found him, they probably would have just laughed it off as Nee bled out.

    Although, he didn't think that blood loss would account for the pounding in his skull, and the nausea in his stomach. Besides that, he felt exactly as he did before he'd passed out. He swung his feet out of bed and grimaced as he saw he was in a hospital gown. Flattering, as always. A bracelet slid down his right wrist, and he looked at it. Neil Jackson, mental health patient. Potentially unstable. He smirked a little darkly. Of course he was a mental health patient. He walked over to the door and twisted the knob. Hospitals didn't tend to leave the doors shut, and the prospect of being in a sealed hospital room didn't exactly-

    The door wouldn't open. Nee rattled the door and took a step back. He was locked in the room. He turned around, running a hand through his hair. He spotted another door and almost threw himself through it. Thankfully, it opened into a bathroom, and he looked around. He went to the cabinet out of instinct- maybe there was something, something to help him escape this-

    "You're not going to find anything in there, Mr Jackson." A voice said, and he spun around to face a nurse and a doctor. They both looked taken aback at the fact that he was moving around. The doctor wrote a note on his clipboard. "Evidently we need to adjust the dose of sedative..." He muttered to himself, before smiling at Nee. "Would you like to sit down, Neil?" He asked. Nee took a step back, his body pressing into the sink. "No. Where am I? Who are you?" The doctor looked disappointed.

    "Sit, Neil. We will explain everything shortly, once you are... settled in." Nee grudgingly went back into the room and sat on the bed. His fingers traced down the scars on the arm that wasn't bandaged. The nurse handed him a cup of pills, and Nee simply raised an eyebrow. "Take them." She said. "Oh, I just thought they were to look at." He replied sarcastically. The doctor frowned. "Are you showing us this ingratitude after we patched you up?" Nee's eyebrow just arched even further. "If I wanted to be patched up, I would have gone to the emergency room." He swallowed them nonetheless, handing the cup back to the nurse.Probably anti-depressants to try and fix him.

    "Good. We'll leave you to get your bearings, and we'll be back in a little while." He tried to follow them, but the door slammed in his face before he got out. Minutes later, he found himself ransacking the room in the hope of finding something, anything to hurt himself with. He even tried to rake his nails down his arm, but someone had cut them impossibly short. He sat in the corner, burying his head in his hands. He just wanted to get out of this room. No, he just wanted to get out of his head. He could feel the demons creeping back in, like a darkness at the edge of his vision.
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  3. Upon awakening, Ty knew immediately something was terribly wrong. There were no voices. No "good morning Typheaos" or "let's have breakfast now!. There was unbearable silence as the blonde sat up from her slumber and rubbed her temples in unison, calming herself before the storm. She could feel it brewing, the aftermath of medicine and shots that subsided her friends from her mind. She noticed something was weighing down her wrist and upon inspection she pressed a small button and an animatronic voice rang out, "Typheaos Demetriou. Mental Health Patient, Unknown stability." She groaned, throwing herself back on the bed and putting the stale pillow over her face so it muffled her frustrated screams.

    There was a far-off jingling sound and Ty froze just as a door swung open. She had forgotten to look around her holding facility, instead taking the unbearable mental silence and making up for it physically. "Ah, you are awake," it was a man's voice, deep and full of uninterest. Ty decided not to answer him. Instead, she listened intently to the click-clacking of his nice shoes and then to the clearing of his throat. "I assume the voices have dissipated and the bed is comfortable?" There was a scratching noise. Pen? Pencil perhaps? Ty pulled the pillow tighter around her head.

    "Do you feel drowsy? Nauseous?" he kept speaking and Ty was finding him rather infuriating. She refused to speak. "Miss Demtriou, I know this must be hard, but we need to evaluate how you are feeling so we can figure out how to treat you." The scratching stopped and a sudden pinging noise reverberated from the end of her bed. That is it... Ty sprung up, throwing the pillow down onto her lap and furrowing her eyebrows in disgust. She couldn't believe what she was hearing from this--this mans big, fat mouth. He was around her age, dark hair, light skin, eyes that looked sunken in and unrested. Ty felt almost bad for the man and then shook those thoughts away.

    "I feel fine. No drowsiness, fatigue, nausea, or headaches. Now leave..." Ty practically spat out her words, throwing her legs over the side of the bed after noticing his pen tapping against the bars of her bed had stopped. The room was silenced again, until the scritch-scratching of his pen started up again and the man omitted a nod. There was no "thank you Miss Demetriou" or "good to hear" or even a simple "goodbye." The doctor, his white lab coat blowing behind him, disappeared out the metallic door.

    Typheaos held her breathe and then exhaled as the jingling of the keys began. No, no, no... This cant be happening. The silence. It etched into her skin and wrote out every little memory she's pushed away. The voiced helped with that, they talked over the memories and they kept Ty company in the lonely nights.

    "This cannot be happening..."
  4. "Wake up...." Whispered a voice. The girl woke up, eye lids slowly fluttering open as she blinked. Everything was black."Over here..." The voice whispered again as the girl sat up and saw a man. Alive, breathing, and moving on his own, with stringing resemblance to her stuffed bear..ah, now she knew who he was... Mr Beary in his human form. No puppetry, no strings, no one to control him. He was human, he was real.... Or so she thought. Her eyes widened as she stand and looked down at her outfit. A white bow crop top, or belly shirt, and a pink flowy skirt as she wore a floral crown over her head."Mr.Beary? Whatttt...?" She sighs tiredly as she rubbed her eyes. Her hair was in a braid and the bear held the mustache on a stick to his face beckoning her to follow him."Come, come!" He said smiling.

    The girl grinned very happily as she held onto the 'Mr. beary's hand before she's as lead to a door, with white light."Where we goin?" She asks giggling happily."Follow!" Her imaginary friend responded in his white suit and pink tie. Soon she walked through the room and everything went white.

    It was a dream.

    Nothing was real, Beary had perhaps guided her to the 'real world' and she opened her eyes slowly, everything a blur as she looked around and closed her eyes back again trying to adjust her eyes to the brightness of the light she was in.

    Soon she heard shoe clicking and clacking in an empty room, then a door closing once she opened her eyes. Upon hearing these noises her eyes immediately shut closed out of fear in a way and she twitched her arms trying to move them. She felt constricted, like a snake was wrapped around her and began to heavily breathe. She was panicking yet tried to hold in her breath....tried to breathe slower and remain calm.

    Then she felt a small pressure on her hands, which were restrained and crossed to her chest."Relax... Just breathe.." She heard from a male voice. She somehow relaxed and let out a deep breath as he reassuringly guided her."Open your eyes... No harm, promise.

    Suddenly the blonde female opened her eyes as told. She saw a white ceiling and turned her head slowly, facing a male who was sitting next to her and smiling kindly. Her vision adjusted, and she could see clearly and as she tried to stretch a hand out to touch him, her whole torso was wriggling. Snakes? She looked down..she was in a straitjacket and also strapped and laid down. She blinked slowly, how long was she in this? She looked up at the man with her blue eyes panicked and almost seemed like she was going to cry."Where am I?" She asks as she gasps for air."How long was I here--How long was I not awake?" She quickly asked question after question as she raised her head up and saw mr Beary strapped to her feet facing her. It was somewhat assuring but she felt claustrophobic as she let out deep breaths of panic."Please--Help!" She abruptly yelled wriggling around. The young man quickly stand up and placed a hand over her hands pressing her done.

    "Relax and I'll un strap the restraints!" He said through her yelling. Her legs relaxed but she still wriggled around as he unstrained her legs and helped her sit up on a small bed. He forced her into a reassuring hug as she rested her chin over his shoulder nearly trembling out of fear and she observed the room. All white, white door, white floored marble tiles, white ceiling, white bed. Only a bed and a chair and those hospital tables. The young man unstrapped her straitjacket, she wanted what she wanted--and he granted it in attempt to calm her down and befriend her and that exactly happened. She calmed, as he let go of her slowly.

    "I want to walk.....help..." She mumbles, lips trembling nervously. The room was very large and roomy and the male stand up,modeling her a hand to help."Let's walk then.." He said as she grabbed his hand walking around the room. Her legs lost circulation, so she stumbled here and there slightly, staggering rather then walking and she stayed quiet. After a few minutes she regained balance, making her think she was out in restraints for a while and she looked around the room relentlessly as she walked. Her stuffed animal in her hand.

    outfit (open)
    #4 N/A, May 23, 2014
    Last edited by a moderator: May 23, 2014
  5. Celia paced her room impatiently. The lack of a window made it seem like it could have been hours or minutes since she had last seen another human being. She felt lightheaded, but refused her desire to lie down and go back to sleep. On inspection of her room, she found nothing to entertain herself, although she'd considered taking a shower before she dismissed it, unwilling to strip from her clothes. She was still afraid, but she'd calmed down significantly since then. Her head still spun and she leaned against the wall, frowning. What was in those pills? she wondered. Probably some sort of sedative, to keep her calm? She was unsure.

    The door opened once again, and the nurse who'd greeted her before seemed surprised to find her standing. "How're you feeling, dear?" she asked her. She averted her eyes and shrugged. It was then she'd realized that, before, she'd spoken to her. In english. "Lasciami stare ," was all she'd say. The nurse looked confused and took a step forward. "Is something wrong?" Celia backed against the wall again. "Lasciami in pace!" she said, angrily. The nurse retreated, and the door shut once again.

    How long has it been? was Noah's first thought on wakening. He kept his eyes closed and his breathing steady, but something beeped anyway, close to him. He cracked an eye open and saw something flash on his wrist. Noah Gessati, it read. Mental patient, severe depression. Now stable. He opened his eyes fully and saw the nurse from before hurrying in. "Don't move," he was warned, and then his arms and legs were freed. "My sister?" he inquired. The nurse shook his head. "Your sister needs some time," he replied.

    "She needs me," Noah pleaded, flinching at the thought of her alone, confused, "Please." The nurse gave him a look to shut up, and he did, not wanting to blow it. The man motioned for him to sit up and he propped himself on his elbows, wincing at the sudden pain in his head. "Side effect," the man muttered. "You will be moved to a different room shortly. Don't try anything stupid." Then Noah was alone again, to recover his bearings.
  6. Nee sat in the wreckage of his room. There was nothing here. He just wanted to hurt himself and escape from this place, all in the one job. There wasn't even as much as a paracetamol for him to take. Everything with a potentially sharp edge had been treated so that it was blunt. He didn't know what the pills had done, only that he couldn't even throw them up because his stomach was empty. Being trapped in the room was slowly unhinging him. He never deteriorated like this. It either took days or was an instant thing, going from able to smile to cutting too deep too many times in the space of two minutes.

    He stood up and went back into the bathroom, staring at his reflection in the mirror. His skin was pale, and his eyes still lacked the shine that so may others held. The mirror... He went back into his room, looking for something small and hard enough to shatter the mirror. When that failed, he simply shrugged and went back into the bathroom. Taking a deep breath, he pounded his fist against the mirror. He hated seeing himself anyway, so he was killing several birds with one stone. It took three good smashes to shatter the mirror, and blood ran down his fist. He grabbed a shard of mirror and ran it along the exposed skin of his wrist, watching as the blood surged to the skin. Two more cuts joined the first, and his feet gave away. He crashed to the ground as the doctors burst in, having seen him breaking the mirror.

    "WHO ALLOWED A MIRROR TO BE PUT IN HIS ROOM?" was the last thing he heard before he slipped into the blackness of unconsciousness.
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