Call Me Crazy, Page 2

Chapter 2

  Day 1

  As I walked towards the hospital I wanted to scream. The building was three stories tall and completely white. It had windows, but they were covered by bars that were melded on and also white. The yard around the building was just an empty expanse of grass that looked like a buffer between the building and the gates. Even the grass didn’t look happy to be here. It was a dingy faded yellow, and looked more dead than alive. Along the back of the building was a short hedge that must have fenced off a yard they let people in. The whole place was surrounded by a massive tall gate that was probably fifteen or twenty feet tall and lined with barbed wire at the top.

  I frowned, “Sir, Jeremy doesn’t like fenced areas.” I said stopping outside of the barrier. I was regretting my plan, although I was sure a prison would look worse than this.

  “Come on,” The man said ignoring me, he pulled my arm hard and I held back a flinch. His grip was so tight I knew I’d have bruises later.

  “No! Jeremy doesn’t want to go!” I yelled and yanked my arm away from him feeling the blood rush into my hands. A strange doctor dude came out.

  “Sydney, what’s wrong?” He asked. He looked slightly worried at the fact that I was freaking out so much.

  “Its Jeremy, he doesn’t want to go in because he hates fenced areas.” I informed him, sitting down and putting my arm around the air and patting.

  The doctor bent down and looked at the air I was holding. “Jeremy, I know it’s scary but can we keep going? It will be okay.” He said, smiling.

  I turned to him and smiled. Then I reached up and made it look like someone helped me up.

  “Thanks, Jeremy,” I smiled. I skipped away holding my arms around two ‘people’s’ shoulders.

  An hour later I was through booking and wasn’t too happy about it. All they let me keep was clothes and a photo of family from a few years ago. Everything else they took. It was ‘a danger to you and other patients. Everything that enters must be closely monitored and restricted for everyone’s safety’ Because of course my having gum or my own toothbrush was so dangerous.

  “Sir, I need more beds. There is nowhere for Jeremy, Bob, Jenny, Karen, or Kelly to sleep.” I said calmly to the doctor.

  “Who’s Kelly?” The doctor said baffled.

  “Jenny’s daughter, Jenny was attacked by a creeper,” I whispered.

  “How old is Kelly?” He asked with a funny face.

  “Just turned two last month, it was a fun party.” I giggled.

  “So how old is Jenny?” He smiled sitting at the table. I sat on the floor knowing it would be about as comfortable as the harsh wood and metal that formed the furniture.

  “I’ll tell you about everyone at once that seems more productive. Jeremy is 10; he is the one in the green shirt. That’s his favorite color and is pretty much all he wears. His dad used to beat him and do drugs. He’s a really sweet kid. Bob is the annoying one in black. He never shuts up, ever! He is 15. He’s also a tad violent sometimes, and he takes it upon himself to make everyone else miserable. Jenny is 14. She is Kelly’s mom. She’s one of my closest friends, and has been since we met. Kelly is almost one. Then there is Karen. She is Jeremy’s sister and is 16. She’s the responsible one, and is very much Bob’s opposite. Then you have me, I am Sydney. I’m 15 too!” I smiled at the doctor. “Bob, no one cares.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Can you draw them in a picture?” He asked me frowning.

  “Of course,” I said happily. I loved to draw, especially from my imagination.

  First I drew myself. I have tan skin, chestnut hair, brown eyes with golden flecks, and average height and skin. Then I drew Jeremy. He was a little shorter than me, with messy brown hair and blue eyes. He had slightly tanned skin. Bob was pale with blue eyes and blonde hair. Jenny was beautiful. She had black hair and blue eyes. In front of her I drew a little girl whose hands she was holding. The little girl had little wisps of black hair and blue eyes. Then I drew Karen. I drew her as a small mousy girl with green eyes and thick red hair.

  He looked at the pictures and smiled. “You’re very talented, Sydney,” He remarked.

  “Call my Syd.” I smiled up at him. Then rolled my eyes turning around, “No way, that’s weird,” I yelled and turned back around, “Sorry about him, Bob’s a possessive freak, that’s a huge part of why we don’t really get along too well. He’s always acting like an idiot. No offence Bob.”

  “Syd, can you come with me and leave the others here?”He asked. I was already annoyed with his voice. He spoke to me in this gentle voice that sounded almost hypnotic. I hated it. It set my teeth on edge and made me want to punch him. He of course thought it was soothing. I wanted to be treated like a normal human being, not some wild animal that could break or attack at any moment.

  “Can I bring Kelly?” I asked, “Jenny’s tired and she doesn’t exactly want her left around Bob.”

  “Sure,” He smiled, but it was fake. It never reached anything beyond his mouth. His face was stiff like if he’d had too much plastic surgery.

  I walked over to thin air and lifted it up miming picking up and carrying a baby. We walked in a comfortable silence to an office. I preferred the silence to his voice. I hoped the other doctors were less annoying.

  “Sit down,” He smiled again and gestured to the chair. He was obviously trying to make me think it was my choice, but we both knew better.

  “I have to rock Kelly,” I said giggling trying to play the game. That’s all this would be, a game. I stood walking back and forth, like I had a kid on my hip bouncing.

  “So who did you meet first?” The doctor asked.

  “Jenny, I was nine,” I smiled and pretended I was reminiscing.

  I went on to tell him my very imaginative stories. I’d always had a really big imagination; when I was little I had swarms of imaginary friends. Coming up with a few neat stories to tell was easy. I was thankful for the few drama classes I’d taken. Even if very little had rubbed off that was obviously enough for the doctor. Then it was “indoor group time.”

  “Hi, I’m Mary Anne,” A girl a little older than me said smiling. She had a baby on her hip.

  “Hi, I’m Sydney. This is Bob, Jeremy, Jenny, Karen, and this baby girl is Kelly,” I smiled at my invisible baby.

  “You’re delusional then?” She gave me an odd look.

  “That’s what they said,” I laughed as if it was a crazy notion, “You?”

  “I have dissociative identity disorder. I’m here because one of my other personalities killed Melody’s father,” She glanced at the girl, Melody. “I’ve been here since I was three months pregnant,” She smiled sadly. I was sick of people smiling. I wanted someone to get pissed off, and yell and scream and act like real people.

  “Bob told me to punch some girl at my school ‘cause she was being a witch,” I said rolling my eyes.

  “I’ll show you who everyone is. That over there is Sarah and Lyn. They are twins with bipolar disorder. Really sweet girls, except when you piss them off which can happen in a split second. Then you have Jerry who’s got PTSD. He chose to come here, but he wants better control before he leaves. Christy is a psychopath. Like a real psychopath, the rumor is they didn’t want her in prison so they sent her here instead. Of course, that’s probably not true, but it’s a good character judgment. Lilly has dissociative identity like I do. Luke has schizophrenia.” She finished.

  “OK, then.” Jerry looked about 25, Sarah and Lyn looked 16, Christy looked 10, Lilly looked 13, and Luke looked 22.

  “We are here for an hour then it’s visiting hour,” She explained. “We just hang out really, therapy is more organized, this is just us screwing off. Go talk to everyone, well not Christy.”

  I ended up making friends with everyone, well not Christy. Jerry was a great guy. The twins were quiet, but seemed nice enough. Lilly was interesting and quirky. Luke was very withdrawn, but we got along better than he did with most people. Then it was visiting hour and my mom showed up
.

  “Mommy,” I yelled hugging her.

  “Are you really crazy?” She asked, angry. I figured she would be. My mom had lost everything recently. Between the accident and then this I knew she deserved the truth.

  “I don’t think so, but that’s what they say,” I said. I knew she’d get it.

  “I figured as much. You know I can’t bail you out again! I get that the accident was hard on you, but this is ridiculous,” She shook her head, “I can’t handle this.” She stormed out. I sat down and felt tears spring into my eyes.

  It was just before school started two months ago. My dad had been driving my older brother Allen, my baby sister Meg, and me. Allen was buying a car and Meg had begged to go along. She adored going places and hadn’t left the house all day. My mom was at work and I hated car dealerships, but I’d agreed to go. My mom called and asked them to get home, because she needed to see us all.

  We turned onto a busy road. A summer camp bus driver turned around to yell at a kid and the light changed. They hit my dad’s car going fifty miles per hour right where Meg was sitting. We were told she died on impact. The car had spun out and into the next lane. A massive truck was driving and hit the car again. My Dad’s spine snapped and he died before they got him out. Allen made it to the hospital, and they rushed him into surgery. I was also in the hospital, but I was the least injured.

  They sent Allen to his room to wait until they could run a quick scan to make sure they’d stopped all the internal bleeding. We were put in a shared room and Mom went to go buy food. I was talking to him when he suddenly passed out and his heart monitor went crazy. I slammed my fist on the nurse call button and jumped off my bed and over to his side. I screamed until a doctor finally came in. He died in front of me, holding my hand.

  I’d always felt like it was my fault. They shouldn’t have even been on that road. They should have been miles the other way. My mom was calling us home because she’d gotten a call about me. I’d won an award and it was a really big deal. It was my fault they died. I couldn’t even stop the constant guilt, because there was no way for me to apologize or repent. Instead I lost my brother, sister, and father in one afternoon. My mom was a mess. She just sat on her bed for the first few weeks. I’d force her to eat and then one day she was better. I started school a week late and even then my heart was somewhere else. I wanted to do something with my life. I’d seen how short life could be.

  I sat doodling for the rest of visiting hour, and then was led to my room. They had put the extra beds in. I fell asleep easily. Thus ended day one in an asylum for the criminally insane.