𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚛𝚎 𝚊 𝙺𝙽𝙸𝙵𝙴.

miles. substance abuse, homicidal tendencies.

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A note is slid under his door. It reads, "Miles, I don't hate you. But I'm going back to Chicago, finally. I don't know if I ever want to hear from you again but I might if I miraculously get better, so I put my number on the back. It's my house phone so don't call past 10PM and don't prank call my mother. Just fucking call me when you get out if you do someday. That's all. I̶l̶o̶v̶e̶y̶o̶u̶.̶ - Clarissa"

He received the letter a little bit too late, already having spent time rummaging through sooty fissures of the basement — the recent withdrawal had caused a tiny bit of a bloody meltdown, and to retaliate what his body had done to him, he hand snuck down to guzzle as many bottles as possible. When he read the words, he had to flip the thin paper a few times and smirked, the immediate retort was to assume this was some sort of a joke sculpted to mess with him because he, apparently, had been an asshole.

But this was Clarissa, and she never joked around when it came to shit like this — she barely joked in general, these days — and after adressing it he tasted something– off in his chest, as if a part of his ribcage were being yanked by an invinsible force, as if betrayal were spread thick before him, as if it were his mother coming back looking like damn red-eyed idiot, and without knowing it, sweat had covered parts of his skin. Nose, chin. His nose felt itchy and he rubbed it with a harsh thumb. There was rage and disappointment and loss mingled altogether, and he went over to her room only to find bloody orderlies cleaning the beds.

Miles turned away again, his teeth gnawed on his lower lip; the desperation to feel bitterness and fire in his throat returned and he knew he’d go down there again later. Jesus. He’d drink, he’d drink so much his vision would become ripples, he’d drink and drink and let himself be surrounded by fucking piss and dirt, he’d drink and he’d call. He didn’t care who’d be on the other side of the line, he didn’t care if it would be her mother or the other fucking child or Clarissa herself. He wouldn’t stop.

He wouldn’t let her get away again, he didn’t want to—he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose her.

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Get any visitors this time around?

“Yeah, I had an old mate visit me. Talked shit about how life is so much better out there, free booze, chicks, yadda-yadda. It’s goddamn immature, really.”

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lostlife-lilith:

“Why do I keep coming here?” Louisa murmured to herself, sticking the visitor pass on her top and then sighing “I’m probably not helping her at all, or helping myself even..” The brunette then cleared her throat “I’m here to see Lilith Locke.”

“That chick who thinks she’s dead?” She had been one of the people who’d amused him, even for a brisk moment, all that spewed mopey bullshit about death and being confined here had provided some fresh entertainment. “I know her. Sheila throws a mean punch.”

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rolandtucker:

“This place is just as gross as I remember.” Jolie tutted, looking around the common room. “That boy isn’t here, is he?” She was asking about Autumn, the last time she was here she ended up getting attack by him - almost nine months ago. “Abella - she’s here? I thought I saw someone with a cane but… there’s no way -” 

“You’re asking too many things at once, woman. Calm the hell down.” He wondered if he could mess with the visitors, too; though they didn’t interest him as much, most of them looked stable enough to be elicited into some sort of episode. Not this one, though. She seemed too fidgety for her own good. “There’s no Abella here.”

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clarissarho:

Clarissa allowed herself to peek out when she felt him get off the bed. She was disappointed by his choice, but it made sense to her. She shouldn’t have wanted, or thought she was allowed to want, him to lay with her and hold her in his arms. It was, and would always be, her alone facing darkness. She sat up and rushed towards the door, keeping her eyes down.

“Oh, no. No, no.” He was quick to bolt up when he saw her aiming towards the door--she wasn’t about to pull this shit on him again, not when she’d already dragged them here. There was a contemplation, wonder if she knew he was trying to care, but the isolation and rejection were turning his patience thin. Miles shot out his hand, reaching to grab her wrist and jerk her back to the bed. “You’re not leaving until you tell me what the hell’s going on.”

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shieldingkaren:

It was safe to say Karen hadn’t been having the best of days. She recently had a fight with her landlord and chosen to spent a couple of her nights bunking with a bunch of frat boys but she was fortunate to at least know they wouldn’t ever do anything shitty. Still the dirtiness and the loudness gave her an enormous she now carried everywhere.

After making sure she was allowed to take a little break, the woman walked outside to get herself some fresh air. The weather wasn’t as hot as it had been a few weeks ago which she truly appreciated. Most people were inside too giving her the opportunity to find peace until of course, she started hearing footsteps nearing by. Not really looking to acknowledge who it was she exhaled loudly. “Can I have some alone time please?”

Not as though he’d ever confess this aloud, but lately it felt like he had been quite desperate to find some new people to play with---Clarissa being so emotionally numb made him taste boredom a lot more once he’d stepped out of the proximity. That was why he’d been so intent on bothering Declan, these days, perhaps, aching for the sensation of power and control all over again. This young woman was someone he hadn’t met before, and her words were enough to prompt a smile---a warning would always lure him more. “An impossibility in a place like this, you must be new. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.”

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cvpidschokehold:

“They’ll zap ya with the electric shocks if you’re not careful with how you act,” Aaron grinned, briefly shaking and jumping to imitate an overreaction to being shocked. “Seen that shit, too. Pretty freaky stuff, man. I wouldn’t wanna go through that.” It was pretty funny for him to think about, though - the fact that those kinds of things still actually happened to people, it was kind of bizarre but still insanely interesting. “It’s the same as AA meetings, my man. You sit and listen to people drone on about their problems, you put in your two cents every now and then, and then you give your own over exaggerated sob story to gain some sympathy and make people think you’re opening up and healing. Same shit.” For a while, Aaron had gone to meetings to try and get better, but that hadn’t lasted for too long - he was in too deep and didn’t want out, not yet. “He’ll be good for you if you’re nice,” He said simply, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, yeah, he’s a pain in the ass but it’s not as bad if you do stuff for him. Got him a cheap package of crayons and a coloring book from the dollar store once and he stayed off my back for a week.” He knew that Chris was easily amused, so he figured that Miles might appreciate the advice if he could put it to good use. “No worries, friend. The fondling will be kept confined to my room, we’ll steer clear of yours.”

“What, like in the twenties? Thirties? Hell if I know which year it was, but maybe that could’ve made the patients here a lot more exciting, you know. Walking with their bloody brains partially zapped still and all that.” He had never seen electrotherapy actually being executed here before, perhaps it had, years before he had been admitted, but he knew there had been several therapists who’d been suggesting such treatment. Maybe they’d actually go with it, maybe even the doctors would spin off their rockers too soon and just torment the rest of the people here --- that’d be a lot more fun than the bleak walls and constant whining. “Yeah, it’s fun though, when you’re attending a session and the damn doc turns out to be all new? You spew fabricated sob stories that would confuse the crap out of everyone. One minute you’re an ex-homeless bloke with a fake leg and then next, you’re some shoddy sad kid who’ve been slapping your own cheeks for years. Keeps things entertaining.” He never took sessions seriously, stressing most of his partners out and having a good laugh while doing it. It was fun, always having the sensation of the one being in control now matter how sick they claimed him to be. “Is that all he’s going to do if we do stuff for him, though? Shut up? That’s pretty dull, I was hope he could help me get some things, booze maybe, to our room.” He scratched his chin in contemplation. “Good. I don’t like my room messy. So, new topic. Why are you here? What’d they poorly diagnose you with, mate?” 

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clarissarho:

The only thing her body let her do was turn onto it’s side and curl into a ball, facing the wall. Clarissa figured he didn’t care enough to lay with her and would leave her alone any second now. If she had the energy for it, she’d search his things and his roommate’s things for something helpful to relieve her pain. This was her and her depression, nothing was going to change that.

“Fair enough.” He was still concerned over the state of his room and the possibility of Clarissa doing something drastic here, hurting herself, attempting to kill herself --- whatever she might have had in mind. The frustation was enough to make him crave for a drip, which he’d look for soon as this was all over. Wondering for a second if his girly arse roommate was going to return anytime soon, he then moved over to grab a book from under his bed and walked over to sit on his roommate’s. Figured he could just wait for at least a few minutes. Heaving another sigh, he opened the book and let himself get distracted by it.

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xdr-lillian-greenx:

“Doctors talk…Miles” she purred, reading his name of his ID badge “We know who we have to look out for. I do my reading” she mused, sitting herself back and blowing out smoke “The patients who do not realise that are foolish” she added, shaking her head as he continued to play the fool “Play all you want, I’m not giving into anything” she said simply, she would stick to her guns- she wouldn’t even tell her wife things so how Miles thought that she’d open up was beyond her. “I’m not the one who sits in the therapy chair in this place.”

“Oh, you know my name. Should I feel special? You don’t seem to be the type to remember names at all.” He was doing it again, peeling and twisting words and turning one’s seemingly vain remark into his own, it was a great, almost addictive way to toy with people’s emotions. “You’re making it sound like I’m someone who’s evil and menacing. I’m not, love. I’m far from that. I’m harmless. I’ve never thrown anyone a punch or anything, infact it’s always been the other way around, did you know that? I’ve been physically assaulted by these people way too many times, one of the former orderlies here, for instance. Or that woman who thinks she’s dead.” The thing was, he wasn’t even lying. Miles had baited a lot of them to the point of an explosive episode, but rarely did anything physical. He rose his eyebrows. “And you pride yourself in that? Do you sometimes go around flaunting how you’re so much better because you’re not wrapped up in straight jackets like some of us? What a peach you are, sheila.”

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declanrhodes:

Declan had to put a hand down to catch himself as he was pulled down towards the floor. Once there, he rested his head against the wall and closed his eyes, attempting once again to catch his breath. He felt as Miles took a seat beside him, and tried to convince himself that the other patient didn’t have it out for him. It made him feel a little bit better to think he wasn’t sitting right next to the enemy. “I’m good…Thanks though,” he replied. He didn’t feel like talking right now, and even if he did - he was sure there wasn’t anything the other could say that would actually help him. He shook his head, “No. It’s okay. I don’t want to bother her,” he told Miles.

He took his time -- sensing the boy’s presence plop down close to him, the warm tickling the brims of his skin, took time to scrutinize the way he moved like a snake circling its prey. His intention was to figure fragile points, places he could possibly poke around or catch if he were about to flee. Declan seemed to have begun to calm himself down for now and he let him, allowing him to have some sense of security before striking again once the time was right. “No problem.” If Declan believed him then he wouldn’t be a fool, he’d be smart to know which people not to mess around with. “Fair enough. Tell me about yourself then. What are the things you like, why are you here, yadda-yadda,” he smirked. “Trust me, I’m more fun than those therapists.”

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cvpidschokehold:

“Heard about that happen before a couple of years back - when you get your rights taken away and they can start forcing you, they’ll get physical and shove that shit down your throat. It’s bullshit, really. Not fair, not right.” That had been something he’d heard from Chris before; he fought so hard against the staff when he was institutionalized in Nevada that he refused to even leave his bedroom, and in the end he lost that battle because if he didn’t comply, he was going to die. Aaron snorted out a laugh at the revelation that Miles was Chris’s roommate - he hadn’t expected to meet the roomie until he actually went down to their room. “Yeah, yeah, that Chris. How’s he been? Good, annoying, pain in the ass?” He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. “He knows. The nurse that got me all checked in and shit said someone was asking about me before I even got here, and he’s the only one around here that would know me.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that. Let’s just say I’ve been around for quite a while -- these people just screw with you, yeah, if they couldn’t have their way, they’d even start to hook you up to those machines and confine you in the infirmary for weeks,” he was exaggerating, of course, just for sheer amusement for once and not intimidation; solely for the fact that this guy didn’t seem to look like one of those whiny types. He could be fun to have around, as some sort of ally if he turned out to be not-boring. “But if you’re smart enough to be sneaky and spit out those pills, then you’ll be all good. Just pretend to listen to the dull arse sessions if you’d like to get out of here.” Honestly, he couldn’t be anymore careless when it came to his roommate--he wasn’t a fan whatsoever of the girly make up, made him cringe twenty-four-seven, but as long as he wasn’t too loud or disturbing then Miles could tolerate. “I don’t know, haven’t been paying attention nor do I give too much damn. Shit that he does is weird, messy, but I’ve gotten used to it,” he raised his eyebrows. “Yeah? Good for you. Just don’t start fondling around in my room and we’ll be good.” 

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declanrhodes:

“Fine-…I’m fine,” Declan said, even though he felt far from okay. His wheezing made that clear. Instinctively he brought his hand to his chest, holding it there while he took a deep breath in and counted to ten before exhaling. He listened as Miles spoke, his eyes looking directly at the ground as they teared up from the pain he felt. Had he really tripped over his own foot and thought it had been Miles all along? Had he really hit the nurse and forgot about it? Slowly he looked up at the other patient, “Ok,” he replied breathlessly. He hoped the others words were genuine, hoped this wasn’t just another joke Miles was playing on him. He didn’t try to fight back as the other guy pulled him back. He didn’t really have anywhere to go anyways. Declan shook his head at his question, if the medicine actually was already messing with his head he didn’t want to know what it would do if they gave him more. “I just-..I need to-…I need to sit down or something,” he told him. Being around other people was only going to make him feel worse and he didn’t need to be around when Miles found out Clarissa wasn’t even related to him.

This little guy was retreating -- either that, or he was inches close to combusting into a panic attack. That would be dull, Miles thought, he wanted to witness a more eventful episode, so to speak. Shouting, wall-punching, but if Declan were to simply dissolve into an anxious goo then he’d be wasting his time. Nothing was more irritating than an anticlimatic closure after so much work. Didn’t mean he’d just give up though, they had a long road to go--there were many things he wanted to explore and scoop up still. “Good. Let’s sit down, then.” He didn’t hesitate in being a little rough and veiled it as somewhat of a firm gesture to keep him steady. Declan was like a rag doll, easy to toss around with all his extra wails and heavy chest.  Grabbing his sleeve, he tried to yank the boy back down towards the floor. Following afterwards, just to make sure he wouldn’t run. “You can talk to me instead. Therapy’s too intimidating for newcomers, I get it. Skip a few sessions, they wouldn’t mind it, I’m sure.” He’d get thrown into solitary, eventually. “Are you sure you’re fine? Do you want me to get Clarissa? I bet she’d be delighted to see you.”

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cvpidschokehold:

“Good to know, then. I’d prefer to keep my personality and not become some kind of fuckin’ emotionless drone while I’m here, that’d be a bummer.” Aaron wasn’t too stoked to go through alcohol withdrawals once they hit him, but he was prepared for it - it was nothing that he hadn’t dealt with before. Detox was a thing from his distant past, but he knew how to handle it when the time came; after that, he figured that he’d be back to his normal self, or so he hoped. “Ah - sort of girlfriend, but more so boyfriend. S’name’s Chris, little blonde, crybaby,” He chuckled, flashing Miles a wide grin. “Aaron. Nice to meet you, Miles.”

“Oh, mate. Those are the stupid and weak ones, they aren’t clever enough to fake or manage the bloody pills on their own and just let these shitheads shove ‘em down their throats. It’s pathetic, honestly,” he had witnessed it first-hand way too many times, the energetic ones losing their spark and altering themselves into a stack of detached robots --- he was seeing this happen with Clarissa too, these days, which admittedly disappointed him. When he mentioned someone named Chris, Miles’ eyebrows were quick to perk up, he woke up to that guy every single day, much to his dismay. “Chris? Chris who dresses like a girl Chris?” He laughed. “He’s my roommate, weird kid that one, but good for you. I guess. He know you around, Aaron?”

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xdr-lillian-greenx:

Lillian wasn’t about to let the other try and play her, if anything it was one sociopath to another and she had seen plenty of patients like him over her 20 years in the field. “I can easily have you removed at least, my word over yours when it comes to orderlies “she mused “You do realise I’m not going to play this game with you, you’re such a typical type when it comes to patients like you, for some incredulous reason you try and worm your way into irritating another…Sad almost” she mused, sitting back and blowing out smoke in his direction. “So it is better to sit in silence. I’m sure your mind shall tire eventually and you shall be on to your next more naive victim.”

He stared, expression scrunching in faux disbelief. “Wow. I literally only asked you what happened. Are you always this weirdly cynical to someone? Like, do a stranger come up to you asking how you are today and they’ll be responded with ‘I know people like you, you’re trying to play games with me’, et cetera, because that would be hilarious, yeah? I know it’s your job to analyze a lot of stuff, but damn, woman.”  There was a laugh chortling in the back of teeth, if she wanted to be distant and condescending, then two could play that game --- except he would subtitute the distant attitude with sheer mockery. “Your assumptions are quite offensive, you know, I’m just a nice innocent bloke,” he craned his neck. “So. Really. What happened?”