Institutionalized

___________________________________________________________________________

I followed after the nurse, feeling foolish. I hated to admit that I was apprehensive, but I was. In fact, I was terrified. Mostly because I’m not crazy...not like these people are; and thinking about living with them was a little unnerving. Would I eventually develop some kind of mental illness from exposure? I knew from the beginning that I didn’t belong here, and now hearing desperate screaming loonies, I felt home sick for the first time in my life.

The nurse must have sensed how nervous I was because she placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder; I immediately flinched away.

“Those cries,” she explained, “are from ‘D Lot’. That’s where disorderly and violent patients are put to cool off. Most of them are sent back to there wards the next day.” She lowered her voice before continuing, “But this place brings out the worst in people, and sometimes they don’t go back to their rooms.”

“So...where do they go?” I asked, my curiosity getting the best of me. Besides, if she was trying to make me feel better it wasn’t working.

“They’re sent to ‘Row 7’ for intense rehabilitation,” she replied, leading me through a large room with couches set up on one side around an old television, and tables and chairs set up on the other side. There was a hallway at the far end of the room, and I could hear a dull thudding coming from down there. A guard was sitting in a chair in front of the hallway, looking tired, but nodded to Jacqueline on our way by.

She led me into a small office, like two others along the same wall. She shut the door and I sat down without invitation. Her office was really disorganized; papers and books, along with old food wrappers, some clothing, and about 30 empty water bottles were littered around. She sat down across from me and started flipping through the papers. She set aside a folder Don had given her and I noticed my name in the corner.

“Well...what’s row 7?” I finally asked, positive that she wasn’t going to elaborate.

“Oh, it’s just the name of one of the buildings here. You won’t have to worry about that though,” she replied, dismissing the topic. She riffled through a mound of paperwork on her desk, “Now, where’s that schedule?” she mumbled to herself.

“Oh well. I’m Jacqueline, by the way. I’m the head nurse of this ward. Each ward has a head doctor, and a head nurse, plus 3 or 4 other nurses or orderlies. M9 is the only ward without a head doctor, only me and three other nurses, and Jack, the security guard we saw. There’s also another guard, named Austin, he watches during the day,” she explained.

“Why isn’t there a head doctor?” I asked, even though I wasn’t really interested in all this trivial bullshit.

“Well, unlike the other wards, M9 only has 16 residents; 17 including you. Most wards have between 35 and 50 residents,” she said, seeming enthusiastic about explaining all this to me. I have to admit, I was curious; even if I didn’t plan on sticking around...I hoped.

“So…why only 17 people?” I asked, suspiciously. She just gave me a patient look, making me want to grind my teeth.

“Everyone in the ward is under 21,” she replied matter-of-factly. “This is the only ward with male and female patients, only because so few residents are so young.

“Only 17...in the whole institute?” I asked, hating how I was somehow supposed to fit in amongst these statistics.

“Yes, most patients are older. And this is a hospital for mental health, not an institution, Mr. Cryztol,” she said, ‘correcting’ me.

“It’s just Salem, fuck. How can a place with sanatorium in its name not seem institutional?” I asked feeling agitated. I didn’t like how she was sugar-coating this place.

“Look, Salem, this hospital is for nothing other than rehabilitation purposes. Everyone here works together to help our patients get better,” she said, giving me a pointed look.

“You want to help me get ‘better’?” I asked her, she only nodded. “Then why the fuck is the only thing I can remember about coming here, is waking up in the white room, strapped to a metal fucking table? Do you think that was good for my mental health? You freaks drugged me and did who knows what to...”

“You were hypnotized, its standard procedure,” she said, abruptly cutting me off. They did what? Oh hell no...

“You sons of whores, you can’t get away...”

“Would you calm down, please? You were induced into a hypnotic state, and Dr. Savage asked you a lot of questions and by doing so, we’ll save many hours in therapy trying to figure you out,” she said, in a huff. I think my cursing truly offended her.

“So what are you saying Jackie?” I asked, noticing the face she made at the nickname, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m saying that in this file is everything we need to know about you, in your own words,” she said, gesturing to my folder. I immediately wanted to grab it from the desk, but refrained from doing so. “Dr. Savage was often disappointed with your lack of response sometimes,” she added, as an afterthought.

“So...what did I say?” I asked, sounding more nervous than I thought I was.

“I don’t know, I haven’t read it yet; but Dr. Savage has taken a particular interest in you for some reason. His roommate request for you was quite odd, but I think you and Lucius...might get along, he’s never had to room with anyone before,” she replied, speaking of this roommate whom I really wasn’t looking forward to meeting.

“Lucius?” I asked, instantly feeling stupid for thinking someone else’s name was weird, although I’ve been made fun of for mine for years.

“Yes, he’s a very nice boy; has his ups and downs, but I think you’ll like him,” she said, smiling; it felt like she kept changing the subject. I frowned back; I didn’t really like the finality of all this.

“He took an interest ‘eh?” I thought out loud. In my head I still thought Don was a major asshole for hypnotizing me, and forcing me to be so vulnerable. He made me recall my entire life and my...my...feelings; he’d totally violated my mind and the worst part was that I didn’t even remember him doing it. How much had I really said to him? What sort of place hypnotizes people, and why is that standard procedure? I let out a short bark of humorless laughter at the absurdity of it all.

Jackie was giving me a strange sideways glance, while she casually picked my file up and began to flip through the pages. She stopped briefly on certain pages, seeming to be reading bits and pieces. Eventually she settled on a page and began to read. A small crease appeared on her forehead as she studied the page.

I wanted to rip the file away from her.

“My, my…you are an interesting boy,” she said aloud, making a small noise to herself. I rolled my eyes and waited patiently.

“Salem Second Cryztol...” She said my name, and hummed to herself.

“So what?” I replied defensively, shooting her a nasty look; which she ignored.


“Your middle name is Second?” she asked, truly sounding bewildered. I raised my eyebrow, giving her what I hoped was a ‘yeah, so?’ type of expression. “Well,” she continued, “why second? No offence, it just seems like an odd name...”

“I’m they’re second child,” I replied.

“They?”

“My parents, duh!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, off handedly. She’d already gone back to reading. “It’s strange; there is a list of disorders you’ve been diagnosed with before coming here, yet Dr. Savage wrote ‘Not Yet Determined’ for your illnesses.” She stared at the paper for a long moment. “I guess he wants to make his own diagnosis.”

“Or he just knows that there’s nothing wrong with me. Besides, all those other doctors were quacks and they were full of shit.”

“What a poetic way of putting it,” she replied distractedly. “This thing...with your brother...is really weird. Plus beside his notes, Dr. Savage wrote that you seemed disturbed talking about it?” she was talking, but mostly to herself. I knew what she was talking about, and I didn’t like it. What did it say, or what had I said?

“How can I not be disturbed? Stop reading that, you cunt,” I replied bitterly, yet somehow still embarrassed about what she might be reading. This time I did reach out and snatch the file away from her. She made a sound of protest and I glared at her, “Don’t I have some kind of right to know what I said to him?” I asked frustrated.

“I…look; it’s really against the rules. I could get in a lot of trouble,” she replied, holding her hand out and waiting for me to give back the file. I held it close to my chest.

“Trouble? This is my fucking life!” I spat at her, shooting her at look that I wished could kill. She lowered her hand and said nothing more.

I quickly flipped open the file. There were notes and reports from every shrink I’d been to in it but I wasn’t interested in that shit, I wanted to know how much I’d told them. Finally I got to Don’s notes, about six pages of them. I removed them from the file and dropped the folder onto Jackie’s desk. I scanned the notes.

I felt the color drain from my face. Everything...basically and literally everything about me, aside from the gory details, was jotted down in neat handwriting. I took a deep breath, feeling like my head was about to explode. I looked at Jackie helplessly, finally letting everything sink in. How could I have, even unconsciously, told Don about some of these things?

“I don’t want people to know these things about me…H-he knows all the things I’ve never told anyone before,” I paused hating how pathetic I sounded and was acting. “I don’t think I can handle this...”

“Look Salem, it’s alright. You told us more than your file ever could and Don really wants to help you. Since your arrival last week, you’re all he’s been talking about,” she said with a small smile. Then something registered...last week? Jesus Mary and Joseph! How could it have been a week? They drugged me for a week? My mind swirled.

“Come with me, I’ll show you to your room, you’re probably tired,” she said, not really looking for an answer. I reluctantly let her pluck the papers with my life written all over them out of my hands and watched, troubled, as she tucked them back into the folder.

Without another word, she left the small office, and I followed behind her.


___________________________________________________________________________