[disaster notes.P]

Chapter 1

“Thompson, Kaity?” A cheery voice called, peering into the crowd of f_ck-ups and mishaps. I was situated somewhere in the middle, blending in quite well. The young woman peered into the crowd as I stood and squeeze in between chairs, trying not to bump my bandaged wrist on any of them.

I waved my hands at her slightly, showing that I was here and just as f_cked-up as the other people. I waved the hand that had to pinkish gauze.

“Hello, honey. We’re gonna take you down back so you can pick up the bed sheets and pillows and you can go and get settled. We already brought your luggage.” She smiled, revealing pearly white teeth that gleamed under the ugly florescent lights. I nodded at her as she turned on her heels and motioned for me to follow her.

We left the main room and walked down a small hallway into a back closet where she grabbed a couple of sheets from the shelves and handed me two pillows.

“No pillowcases, honey, in case you try and hide something in there. There’s a daily bed-sheet check, too.” She told her, flashing me those teeth again as she dumped the load in my waiting arms. Her teeth made me nauseous.

Couldn’t I easily hide something inside the pillow? But I kept my mouth shut. I was an empty void. A doll without a mouth. A soul without a tongue. She turned me around so I was facing the door again. A man, who was bald with a gold earring, smiled at her.

“Thanks, Martha.” He said in a deep, booming voice.

“No problem. She’s room 217.” She informed him, squeezing out of the room and walking back down the hallway, calling in another poor soul.

The man motioned for me to follow him. We turned down a few more hallways until we were in the main ward. There were rooms on either side, the glass textured so nothing could be seen. On the glass were large, thick black numbers. Some of them looked like eyes. Some looked by angry faces. I almost giggled at them. But I kept my mouth shut, as if my tongue had been cut out

He stopped in front of 217, taking out a key to open the door.

“Here are some rules,” the man began, “Your door is only locked after lights out. During the day, it’s always open. Expect a daily check of you bed and suitcases. The girls bathrooms are down the hall here, turn to your left. There's a daily shower period. Yes, it's mandatory. There's no shaving here. If you want something removed, go and see the hospital wing, and the nurse will remove it for you. No razors, you hear me.?” He asked and I nodded feebly. I felt like a child.

“No sleeping in others rooms. We do daily checks every night. Laundry is done once per week. Someone will come around and collect it. Later on today, someone will come by with a schedule of all your meetings and activities. Clear?”

I nodded once more, my eyes glazed over from boredom. I hadn’t really listened to all of that. But the bald man looked satisfied, and he backed away from the door and began to walk down the hallway.*

“Hey, Manny.” A friendly voice greeted him. I turned. He was one of the most gorgeous men I had seen my entire life. He was only a bit taller than me, around 5’6”. But his hazel eyes shone in the bright-white of the hallway, his black hair gleaming under all the lights. Usual florescent lights made people look ugly, sickly with their yellow hues. They made him look marvelous. His nose and lip held a single ring each. His arms covered in colorful and gorgeous looking tattoos. I couldn’t help but gawk.

He stopped at room 216, looking over at me with both an amused and friendly look on his face. “Hey. Welcome to Lowood.” He nodded before walking into his room and closing the door.

It was a beginning.
But it was one that surely didn't belong to a black and white photo.
Because beginnings like that never ended up in a nuthouse/rehab center.

But who's to say it couldn't happen this time?