Mind Games (lxngdon and MaryGold)

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lxngdon

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Maritza had never spent a night without at least one of her siblings.

She hated it here. Horizon Psychiatric Hospital -- also known as HPH, or Hell. Not only was Maritza decreed insane and unstable by the assholes who had caught her setting fires in Mexico, but she had been hospitalised in Ireland, on the other side of the planet to her home and her life and her family.

Sure, Maritza hadn't had the dream life. Her father had been a druglord before he had been shot and killed to death, so her mother, after having eleven children, had taken over the family business and now ran one of the most prolific cartels in Mexico. Two of her sisters were whores, two were wives for dealers and her closest sister Marisol was a dealer, along with her five brothers. Yeah, Maritza hadn't had the best life -- but she would never wish for anything else. Mexico was her home. Her family was there.

But, no, she had been shipped across the world to Ireland, to Horizon Psychiatric Hospital, where there was apparently a doctor who could help with her 'condition'. Pyromania. Like they had a treatment for that.

"Get your fucking hands off me," Maritza snarled as she was shoved into the courtyard for her daily hour of outside time. Due to her violent temperament when being admitted into the hospital, she was considered a high-risk patient and therefore put into maximum security, where her rights had been essentially stripped from her.

She wore chain-mesh gloves on her hands, to protect herself from her own fingernails, since she had scratched the guards. But that meant she couldn't make fire, and therefore, she was vulnerable.

"Evans!" barked the guard that was ushering Maritza around. She was lead to a tall blond guy, very pretty, and seated down on the bench beside him. Maritza scowled at the guard, willing him to burn. "This is Maritza de la Fuenta. You've been good, you can show her around."

"Fuck you."

"That's a warning, Fuenta." Guards referred to the patients by their surnames, which Maritza hated. She felt depersonalised. So she proceeded to berate him in Spanish until the guard rolled his eyes and left.​
 
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Quinn hadn't planned to spend the remaining light in his day showing the newcomer around, but things didn't always happen the way he wanted them to. For example, he had planned to live his life like any other ordinary human being but that was never an option from the start for him. Someone who was a danger to himself and others. He had always been different since he was a child, but he was only diagnosed with schizophrenia when he reached the age of fifteen and submitted into the very same hospital his mother directed only a year later after a rather huge accident, or episode, that left the inside if his house in shambles.

Anyone would think he would receive special treatment because of this one little detail. But, no, that wasn't the case at all. He was handled the same just as any other patient and only a handful of people, all on the staff, knew of his relations to Dr, Sarah Evans. The only time he was able to get away with anything was because of his charm and good behavior. As much as good behavior around the hospital gave you rewards it also gifted you with responsibilities as well.

Because no one asked him to show around the seemingly violent Hispanic girl. He had been around in the background when she first arrived and she seemed as mad now as she was then. He could not blame her, but it didn't mean he would like to deal with, obviously, vulgar comments spoken in Spanish.

"Have you taken all of your frustrations out on the guard now?" He asked, smirking slightly from his place on the bench.

Before she had arrived with her fiery temper he had been playing with the string in his hands, cats cradle. In fact, he was still playing it, making unique pictures without having to watch his hands. He kept his eyes on Maritza, wondering what she had been submitted for and if she was really a danger.

"I'm Quinn. Here, the cure to your troubles are just on the horizon." He said just as he made a cat with his string. "Before you ridicule me too, that is literally the hospitals slogan. Or something on the lines of that." A small chuckle escaped his mouth.
 
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Maritza glowered at the male known only to her as Evans, who was apparently her tour guide for the day. She didn't find the stupid quote amusing and she didn't find his question amusing, either. She didn't find any of this amusing and that was very much evident on her beautiful face.

Maritza was well aware that she looked like a doll. She was beautiful, slender, small. And when she smiled she truly looked like the child that she was. But, internally, Maritza broiled with fire and anger and she wasn't to be underestimated.

But this kid hadn't hurt her and she had to admit, she needed friends. Or people who could fill the void left by her siblings. She missed them like crazy.

She watched him make pictures out of the string in his hands. "I'm not crazy," Maritza blurted out, uncharacteristic of her.

"I might be a criminal but I'm not crazy. Don't you dare think I'm crazy."
 
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Quinn inhaled sharply as if she had said some sort of vulgar, morbid and unforgivable curse. He looked away from her, slowly and subtly gazing around at any and every other young patient in their vicinity. When it was clear no one else had heard them, he looked back to her.

"We do not say the C word here." The boy warned her, going back to his game. "It sets some people off if you know what I mean." He shrugged his shoulders as if it wasn't a big deal, though it so clearly was.

"Look, no one here really cares if you're sane or not, and they especially don't." His eyes wandered to the double doors where the authorities were doubt outside of. If it wasn't for the meds he had taken this morning, he'd probably overcome with their voices along with everyone else.

"Well, with that said, shall I show you around now?" He quirked an eyebrow, offering a little smile.​
 
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The C word. Maritza could understand that -- she knew she wasn't crazy, but some people were, and she didn't like being treated like a freak. So she nodded, silently agreeing not to ever say it again.

"Fine," she said rather tersely when he suggested showing her around. Maritza rose to her feet. She wore the same uniform as all the other patients -- ugly white shirt and ugly white pants. She hated it, since Maritza wore nothing but black back at home. It made her look tough.

"You might as well show me around so I can formulate an escape plan," she said, only half-joking. Maritza lifted her hand to tuck her hair behind her ear, only to feel the cold chain mesh of her gloves against her skin.

"I don't suppose you have a bobby pin or something so I can pick the locks on these?" The gloves were thin and fitted, meaning she could still use her hands, but they were closed to her wrist with thin locks she had been unable to break as of yet.
 
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"No, I don't," Quinn answered her as he stood on his two feet. Swiftly, he wrapped his string securely around his wrist and gazed down at the short girl. "My hair holds up just fine by itself." He ruffled his dark locks, though, noticeably he could use a haircut. But, that was the least of their problems

"And why would I help you break out of those cuffs?" He quirked an eyebrow at her, walking ahead and expecting her to follow. He squinted his eyes thoughtfully. "You must have those on for a reason." He wasn't sure of her yet. The only thing he knew about this girl was how violent she could be and obvious anger issues.

Oh, and she claimed to be sane. That idea he didn't totally flat out reject. She could be sane, and then she could also be one of those psychopaths or worse, a sociopath.

"What did you get thrown in here for, anyway?"
 
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"If you get them off me, I promise I won't hurt you," said Maritza in a low voice. She was joking, but still, she needed to be careful. She knew she could be thrown in solitary for ages if the guards thought she was up to something.

"Yeah, I have them on for a reason, and that reason is that I wasn't happy about being ripped out of my home and shipped halfway across the world because some assholes think I'm a lunatic." Maritza trotted after him. She needed to make three steps to one of his as she was absolutely tiny compared to him.

"Pyromania," she spat, as if the word left a bad taste in her mouth. "Some asshole drugged and impregnated my sister so I set fire to his dumpsters. Apparently that's worth tearing me out of my home and my family."

Maritza knew that it was probably due to her anger issues as well, but it was easier for her to say that it was the authorities' fault and not her own. She was adamant that sending her to the other side of the planet was overkill. Why didn't they just put her in a psych ward in Mexico?

"What about you?"
 
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"Paranoia schizophrenia," Quinn answered casually as if they were talking about the weather. And to him, it could have been as simple as that. Perhaps it was because of how long he had been at the hospital or the treatments or maybe even how his parents had been telling him. Either way, it wasn't a big deal on the surface. He was used to it.

"Some extreme vandalism during an episode got me in here." He smiled somewhat, it was charming nonetheless. "Nothing as noble as what you had done though. If I were you, I would have set fire to the bastard or his house instead of his dumpsters."

He shrugged his shoulders,
"Of course, you probably shouldn't take anything I say seriously. I'm, you know," He tapped his head, making a clicking sound with his tongue.

The tall boy went silent for a moment as they passed another patient, a female patient. She was shorter than him, but most people were, and she had her long light brown hair tied in a bun. He didn't hesitate to pull a bobby pin out of her hair very quietly and unnoticeably as they passed on. He looked over the hair clip and back to Maritza.

"Will this do?" He whispered, lowering the pin for her line of sight.
 
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Oh, so he was actually crazy. As horrible as it was, Maritza was glad to hear that as it made her feel slightly better about herself. Like she wasn't going to be the guards' focal point, as there were actually psychotic people in the facility.

"Oh, I would have set him on fire but he wasn't there when I got to his house." She scoffed. "And my sister was in the house at the time so I couldn't exactly burn it down." She had wanted to, though.

Maritza's eyes widened at the bobby pin he had stolen for her. A simple piece of black plastic, that could really come in handy to her. She could escape -- or at least have some way to defend herself. Having grown up in such a hostile environment, Maritza felt naked without some way to protect herself.

And with her fists, nails and fire, she was definitely able to defend herself.

Maritza took the pin and put it into her mouth, below the tongue, where no one would find it until she was back in her cell. "I owe you," she said earnestly to Quinn. Maritza was the kind of person who valued loyalty and honour very highly, and therefore, she considered Quinn her friend now.
 
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"That's unsanitary," Quinn mumbled, watching as she took the pin in her mouth, but he commented no further. Instead, he smiled softly, dimples and all. "Don't worry about it, we all have to look out for each other around here." Otherwise, who would?

He'd been at the hospital long enough to know something was off. But what bothered him the mist was how unempathetic the doctors and nurses were. In a way, they were cruel. The whole staff was, so, after a while he deduced they outta help each other. It was an unspoken rule.

"Of course, I'm sure there will be an opportunity for you to pay me back." He shrugged a shoulder.

"In the mean time, shall we continue our stroll around the hospital? There's plenty to see, and though it's still a hospital, it's a luxurious one." He bit his bottom lip gently. "And you could come up with your escape plan. But you won't be leaving unless they let you, just so you know."

He was only being honest. He had saw people come and go and it was all in the hands and power with the authorities. To be completely honest, he feared the worst for this new girl. Being sound of mind may actually be bad in this place.
 
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Maritza didn't care if it was unsanitary -- this was her key, her way to get out. She hooked the pin to the underside of her tongue ring to keep it in place, as if she lost it, she would probably lose her sanity as well. Maritza licked her lips and followed Quinn dutifully.

She knew it would be hard to get out of here -- harder than she could believe. But she had escaped juvenile detention. She had escaped a prison cell. She had escaped rival cartel leaders who had taken her to spite her parents. Maritza had always been the young, Mexican, female Houdini and she was determined to get back home.

And she didn't care who she had to hurt to do it.

"Well, they're never going to let me go so I'll just have to find the key myself," Maritza said casually.​
 
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"Oh, then I do wish you the best of luck with your ... " Quinn lowered his voice when nearing the doors back inside where two guards stood on either side. He shut up completely in there presence, offering a charming smile and naturally they didn't return it even the slightest, but they didn't show any hostility, feat of disgust toward him either.

"Gentlemen," He greeted, opening the door and ushering Maritza inside.

For the most part, Quinn had free range around the hospital because of his time there and good behavior. And he was simply likable to over half the staff. Unfortunately, his mother wasn't included in the majority group.

"As I was saying, good luck with your escape? How long is it supposed to be before you try" Questioned the dirty blonde, earnestly curious.
 
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Maritza had no idea how the guards simply let Quinn through like this was a school, but she didn't question it in front of them, and bit her tongue as she gratefully trotted after Quinn. He was proving to be a truly valuable friend -- he was nice, had provided her with a pin and was apparently all buddy-buddy with the guards.

She chuckled, falling into step beside him. "Usually I'd be out by now," she confessed truthfully. Maritza had a knack for escaping, and it had proven to be quite useful over the years. She was grateful for it.

"When I was thirteen I escaped a juvenile detention centre by knocking out one of the guards and sneaking out through the laundry truck." Maritza sounded proud of herself. "And then a couple of months ago some cartel leaders kidnapped me but I got out by stealing one of their guns and shooting their hitmen in the legs."

She scratched the side of her nose. "My mother's the leader of a cartel, so I've always had a target over my head. I'm the baby -- I have ten older siblings. Six of them are, dealers, two are whores and two are wives of other dealers."​
 
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"Sounds like you've had a lovely life," Quinn frowned slightly when hearing her background.

He never heard someone be so open with the type of background she had. He'd think they'd be rather secretive for their own safety. Then again, they were in a mental hospital, and he was mental. So, the chances of this ever truly affecting her were slim.

Besides, it may have been a horrid background, but there were plenty others with something just as equally bad. Though he wondered if his qualified as terrible. He didn't know or care because he was here now. And she was too, but he didn't know how long.

"With a background like that, I can only imagine how hard school and making friends must have been." A low whistle escaped his mouth and he slowed his walk pace so she'd be able to keep up better.
 
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Maritza scoffed at his words. "I never went to school," she informed him, which was true. Her mother had not wanted her to be exposed to people who could potentially take her away from the family. Though, that obviously hadn't worked out for any of them. She was very far away now.

"But I'm not stupid," she quickly added, in a serious tone. No, Maritza was far from stupid. "My mama and my older siblings taught me how to read and write and spell and do mathematics. I was homeschooled, and I never needed friends. When you live in such a big family, your siblings and your cousins and your nieces and your nephews become your friends."

Maritza had cousins her age, and nieces and nephews her age, too. It was never difficult to find another teen to talk to in the de la Fuenta household, even if her older sister Marisol was absent for whatever reason. Marisol. Maritza felt sick when she remembered her favourite sister. She couldn't even call her, since they were on the other side of the world from one another at the moment.

That was why Maritza needed to escape. She needed to go back home, to her friends, to her family.

"I'm not a junkie, though," she said defensively, because she had had a lot of people assume she was some kind of crack whore over the years. "My mama would skin me alive if I even looked at a cigarette."​
 
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"And yet she sells drugs for a living," Quinn noted, cocked his head at that. But said nothing more on the case for fear of offending or angering her. It was simply funny in a sad way to him. Again, he wouldn't say anything about that either. He wouldn't lie about his feelings on the case either.

But, who was he to judge? His mother may have had a very legal line of work business, but he mothering skills weren't simply lacking, they were horrid. A great example of it was the fact that he was in her mental hospital and diagnosed with schizophrenia.

He wouldn't trade his life for her's either, however.

"I only have one sister. I went to school, private school." Which was honestly the same as a public school with a few difference for rich snobby people. At least it was for the one he had attended. "The rest of my family on both my mother and father's side is dead. It's just us two." Meaning Lucy and himself, his parents couldn't necessarily be involved when his relationship with them was more than strained.​
 
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"Just because she's a cartel leader, doesn't mean we're all druggies." Maritza's voice wasn't defensive or angry, just conversational, as if they were casually discussing the weather. "In fact, I've never actually touched the drugs. I've seen them but I'm not allowed to touch them. My brothers would kill me."

Maritza frowned fleetingly. She missed her brothers, but the look was gone in a second.

"And, as they always say, never get hooked on your own supply."

Maritza couldn't imagine what it would be like to only have one sibling. Her entire life, she had been surrounded by her brothers and sisters and her nieces and her nephews. Only having one sibling, no cousins or anything, sounded awful to the young Mexican woman.

"Fuck, that sounds depressing," she remarked. "You sound like a fuckin' straight-edge. What do your parents do?"​
 
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"I don't see how that makes me sound like a straight-edge," Quinn mumbled with a slight frown. Not that he delved himself in abundant amounts of alcohol, drugs and or sex along with other things. But, he was no straight-edge either. Though, he wasn't particularly offended by it, so he shrugged his shoulders.

"My father is a famed neurosurgeon, he's not a celebrity doctor, but is well-known through the medical world and for a reason. He's always busy." He frowned, thinking of his father. The man hadn't visited him once in the long two years he had been in the hospital. He wasn't even there when he was first admitted into the place.

Neither was Lucy. But that was only because they, his parents, had banned her.

"My mother is a doctor as well. Though, she is a hospital director." He smirked slightly. The one person in his family who did see him often, as manipulative, sly and conniving as she was. "She directs this hospital, actually."
 
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Maritza's eyes widened and she stared at Quinn in disbelief. His mother directed this hospital? That meant she was probably responsible for Maritza being here. Maritza's mind was working overtime, trying to find a way she could twist this situation to suit herself. Because she needed to get out.

"Wait, does that mean you --"

Before she could finish her sentence, a couple of guards approached the two teens. "Right, Fuenta, it's time to go back into your cell."

"What? What did I do?"

"Nothing. Your rec time is just up." One of them put their hand on her arm, but Maritza threw him off, hard enough that he went stumbling. She was a lot stronger than she looked.

"I can walk myself," she grumbled, shoving her hands into the pockets of her jumpsuit. She looked at Quinn and went ahead, knowing exactly where her cell was since she had scoped the place out when they had taken her in. The guards looked at one another, mystified, and followed the tiny Hispanic girl down the hall.​
 
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"See you at breakfast, Maritza," Quinn called out to the short girl as parting and quickly went off his own way.

The next day would start the same, hygiene, meds and the breakfast. And honestly, Quinn hated the medication they gave him. They made his brain foggy, but at least it kept out the many many voices he'd be hearing if he hadn't. He was at least grateful for that.

Fortunately, the food at the hospitals cafeteria wasn't horrible. That was another thing he was grateful for. Sure, it wasn't as good as a home cooked meal, but it was something he could not just bare, but enjoy.

"Quinn," Said Leah, a pretty, tall and slim girl with rich olive skin and a fro of dark loopy and tight curls water falling down over her shoulders. She was definitely not new to the hospital, but she wasn't one of the oldest patients.

Her brown eyes were fixed on the blonde as he shoved a fork of eggs into his mouth.

"Yeah-huh?" He answered in acknowledgement.

"I found a blind spot,"

And she looked pretty damn proud of herself.

"I'm sure Maritza would be more interested in that than I am." He shrugged his shoulders and looked to the doors. She should be arriving any minute now.
 
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