The Happy House

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Kitty Chanter, Feb 27, 2014.

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  1. Isabella sat in the large white room on the couch, the red-headed girl beside her rocking back and forth, back and forth. The room was set up like a circle, a couch on each side of the room, only stopped beside a door. The couches had pillows and blankets with fun colors and characters on them, the nurses very dedicated to there work on trying to make people happy and sane again. There wasn't too many people checked in at the point, it was the middle of december, right before Christmas. In fact, it was four days until Christmas. And this is where the brunette girl with her hands on her upper arms crossed over her chest was bound to spend it. This little happy place. "Don't be sad," A voice whispered to her, "I'll be here for Christmas. Don't forget my present, peasant." the little voice added in a playful tone. Isabella laughed, her wide chocolate eyes looking up at the celling. It startled the boy with a debilitating anxiety disorder from across the room and he stood and yelled. "I can't do it! I can't do it!"

    His panic attack was calmed by the black haired nurse who was sitting in the room, waiting for the psychiatrist to take patients individually. These three were the only people on B2, the adult psych floor. After Christmas though there was always a rush of new patients. Isabella was the newest, she had just spent her first night here. The hospital was large and the people warm. Everyone had been nice to her except Amanda, one of her "imaginary" people, as many called them. Amanda was Isabella's best friend, and didn't want to be taken away from her. Amanda cried in sadness, and so did Isabella that night. There were many rooms, 5 hallways that branches out from the middle. The middle the meeting room where people played games and such, but with only 3 people and two of them zoned out it was hard to play games. Then 5 hallways, one for straight males, one for straight females, one for interchangeably lesbian and gays (they always roomed a lesbian female and gay male together, one for non-sexual or bi-sexuals, or pan-sexuals who roomed individually, and one that had testing rooms. Rooms to meet with doctors and such.
  2. It was the beginning of the work day, which was either a good or bad thing, though on some days it was neither, and on most days it was good. Dr. Dorian McCarthy was generally a happy person, with a shining spirit that was never dampened by his suit or coat. Yes, most days were good days. These were his glory days, just out of college, being fresh meat for the institute of not necessarily so happy people.

    Dorian stood in front of his own desk, looking the clean room over thoughtfully. There was a large window with burgundy curtains on the back wall, opposite the door. His desk and chair were right of the door, left of the window, and the plush love-seat was opposite that. The colors weren't too bright, with the ceiling being a soft cream, and the walls being a deep burgundy, the carpet being almost as plush as the seating in the same cream shade as the ceiling. Dorians as fond of the color combination. He was fond of the wine-colored, wooden desk and the brown sofa with the equally wine-colored pillows. Reds were his favorite, and he thought that having order between the colors would be important to his new patients. Order and stability were important to everyone, even if they didn't realize it.

    "Nurse?" Dorian called, a blond-haired and blue-eyed nurse peeking into the room, the door opened just enough.

    "Yes, doctor?" She asked.

    "Why don't you let the first patient in? Let's get this day started," he answered, addressing the woman with a soft smile, before he turned back to his desk and neatly stacked some papers to one side.

    "All right," she nodded, leaving the room to find the waiting room. She stood in the doorway. "Isabella Dupre?"
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  3. Isabella looked up, her eyes wide, then she blinked a few times. "What's the bitch want?" Amanda tapped Isabella's shoulder from behind her, and when she looked back, nobody was there but the back of the couch. "Your name is Kitty, tell her that. Isabella is the name your father gave you. It's gross and slutty. Strippers are named that. Kitty is your name. Kitty, Kitty, Kitty. Meow." Isabella looked back to the blonde nurse. "Yes." She said politely, standing. Stumbling as Amanda pinched her arm she blurted out, "Kitty is my name miss. I'm named Kitty, please call me that." She gave the nurse a polite smile and shook her head up and down softly.

    Kitty wore a long sleeved white V neck teeshirt, and gray sweatpants with the strings missing. She was in fuzzy pink socks with stripes through it. Although it was almost a kiddish outfit, and was a little odd while the white shirt hugged tightly to her body and the sweatpants hung loosely, mostly other patients wore the same things. Jeans weren't allowed because the metal, strings weren't allowed because you could hang yourself. You weren't allowed to have pencils or pens even because you could possibly harm yourself with them. Glasses were another thing they didn't allow patients to have, but if you went to the nurses station you could get and use these things by signing them out and being watched. Following the nurse down the hallway, she kept her arms crossed over her small bust, standing in the doorway. Her hair curled lightly around her face. She felt Amanda's presence near her, anticipating what was to happen next. It wouldn't be long until Panda woke up too, a fourteen year old boy who stuck in her head. He woke up around noon though, up all night playing games like teenagers always did.

    Kitty could feel Amanda's gaze around the room, her speculation of the man at the desk. Kitty was new, and had been admitted last night. So she was sure she'd have to go over all the basics once again. Sometimes she really regretted her sudden decisions to get help. She could feel Amanda's anger.
  4. Dorian looked up and greeted his first patient with a warm smile, leaning back against his desk with his hands on the edge. The sun was shining through the large window between them, giving Dorians grey suit just a little bit more color, which matched his burgundy tie. Since it was the first day of work, his chin and jaw had been shaved clean just that morning. He'd be growing a bit of a beard later on, perhaps, but this wasn't the time. First days were days which required the upmost care. Appearance was important.

    "Hello, Ms. Dupre, my name is Dorian McCarthy." He introduced, gesturing to himself as he said his own name. There was a file sitting behind him, next to his nameplate with the name 'Dupre' written across the label. "I'll be your psychiatrist while you're here. Do you know why you're here?"
  5. The nurse closed the door behind Isabella and she took a seat in the chair in front of the desk. The room was pretty monochromatic... or duochromatic rather, as there was an abundance of two colors instead of just one. "Yeah. They say I'm Schitzo Psycho." She said, her voice blunt but still soft. Mixed whispers muddled at the back of her head took her attention, as she looked from the nicely dressed man to three inches above his head, trying to figure out what was going on in her head. Maybe Panda woke up. Or 12 o' clock the dog was being naughty? A cat wandered across her lap and onto the floor, catching her sight as her eyes following it. This would disturb 12 o' clock if he saw the cat. "We gotta have the cat out of your office please, okay?" Her voice was kind of distant, the meds she was on obviously not working.

    Standing up with a bounce she strode to the door and pulled it open, jingling the handle a bit. "Kitty, Kitty, Kitty." She kissed, snapping her fingers at the ground. The non-existant kitty looked up at her expectantly "No! Not me. My names Kitty but I mean you, you need to leave. 12 o' clock is gonna come." As she said the words, she watched 12 o' clock jump through the window and chase the cat out, and Isabella closed the door behind them both. "I told you so. I did." She nodded, going back to sit. Amanda snickered, Kitty snapped, "Shut up. Stupid." Amanda pinched Kitty, but she made no move, it didn't hurt that much. Shaking her head she noticed the man once more. "Oh your here. Hello. I'm Kitty. Dorian your gonna be the guy that visits me all the time and tweaks my medication and stuff right." 'I don't like this...' Amanda whispered, breathing on the back of her neck. A deeper voice rang, 'I go to sleep for a little while and your back in this joint trying to get us to go away?' Kitty shook her head and put her hand on the back of her neck uncomfortably.
  6. At first, Dorian had looked around the room, giving her words some merit. He himself was still new, and had quite a bit to learn. He had started to respond, to tell her that there was no cat in his office, even that cats weren't allowed. Then, she got up and started to interact with her hallucinations. At this point, Dorian watched with quite a bit of interest, taking up her file folder and a pen, and starting to jot down a few notes.

    He turned his attention back to her once the door was closed again and she had sat back down."Yes, Kitty. I'll be in charge of changing prescriptions, and giving you new ones," he confirmed, his regular smile still written across his lips. "Kitty, may I ask who 12 o' Clock is?" Dorian asked, stepping behind his desk to sit in the chair there. It was more professional that sitting on the desk, which was perhaps so etching he would need to work on.
  7. "Twelve o' clock is a dog. He bites don't pet him. He doesn't like cat's. Cheshire cat is always different wandering around yeah? Weird, I don't like that cat. I never know if it's Cheshire or a random cat. Always changing form" She looked up, and Amanda tapped her shoulder again, turning her head around which made her brown hair whip isabella looked at the girl, maybe 9 years old with blonde long hair and a childish face. Very redish lips, Amanda wasn't good, or bad, but playful.

    Watching Amanda walk around the desk with blank eyes as she spoke, Isabella looked at Dorian. "Uhm am I supposed to tell you about some of the people that are weird to you? Or are you not real either?" Losing grip on reality, Amanda threw flower petals at Dorian. Standing and reaching over, Kitty shook out his hair for him. "Amanda is just playing. Just playing around. Don't be scared of the flowers, that's her favorite. They smelll nice I think."
  8. "Don't worry, I'm real. Do you realize that these characters aren't real?" He asked, referring to 12 O' Clock and Cheshire and the others. He almost flinched when Kitty reached over and ruffled his hair. But, he was quick to put the pieces together. Supposedly this Amanda character had thrown flowers at him. Why flowers?

    "So, who is Amanda?" He asked, spinning his pen.
  9. "I can only kinda tell the difference when people point it out. Their lines... They are wavy... " She gave a half smile, Amanda threw more flowers at him. As if it was his funeral, Kitty knew this though. Amanda didn't like him. "Like you, your bold, your skin it ends here." She pointed at her arm. "They are almost a little like, they have been colored slightly outside of the lines, if that makes sense...?" She tried to phrase it correctly to him, but she spoke with eyes on Amanda as she did. Amanda though, disappeared, and when she searched with her eyes for Panda, he was gone too. "As if someone used watercolor to paint them almost, except not as dramatic as that. Slightly so. They are more perfect than normal people too. The skin brighter, eyes always bright, never have any scars or acne and stuff. Even the scary stuff is scary perfect."

    She stared at Dorian when her 'friends' disappeared. "Which is why I asked you if your real. But then again your not liney-blendy like them. I thought I'd make sure anyway. If they are so real to me, yet non existant to you, then what really is reality? It is so confusing to try to seperate two worlds when I have one foot in one and one foot in the other. I can't fully put myself in the other, because I'll die in real life. I can't fully put myself here, because I'll be dead in my mind."
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