Please continue

God that fucking sucks ass.
If I was there for a few days, doing fucking nothing, I would be considering suicide or something. Maybe I'd fake suicidal feelings to get the staff worried. Then I'd start singing that song, Big Rock Candy Mountain.

And now, if I manage to sum it up in one more passage, my story will be finished. Let me type it up for you guys.

The sharp objects in my bag happened to be two screwdrivers and razor blade(Which I didn't see at that point), and the second my hand touched the top of one, I smiled. Big. I flashed them to Dillon, who was sitting right next to me and he grinned. I passed it to him and he put it in his hoodie, and at this moment the teacher noticed some shit was up and asked Dillon what he had. Dillon was like "Nothing man, why the hell do you guys always think I'm up to something?" She told him to stand up. And I was thinking "Oh shit." He stood up. Nothing fell out of his hoodie, nothing made a sound. I was relieved. She told him to sit back down and he got back to ignoring her and trying to fall asleep.

I took the other screwdriver and hid it in my pocket well, then found a little black box full of razor blade tips in my bag as well that I had forgot about. I stuck that in my shoe. Once school was over I whispered to Megan and [blank] what we had in confidence because we had become pretty close during our stay there. Of course, we didn't tell those other fucks because they were cutters and FUCK CUTTERS THOSE FUCKING WHINY TRENDY EMO FAGS. Ahem. Well, we brought the shit to our room and hid it well. Dillon worked as a construction worker so he knew how the room was built, and what it was built out of. (For instance, he pointed out the fireproof drywall when I asked about how the fuck we'd get out in a fire) We knew we might need what I found later on, if when our court dates finally arrived they didn't let us out. The court dates were of course requested by us; anyone over the age of 13. If you're in against your will you get to file as an "objecting minor" and some guy who's probably thin with glasses decides your fate.

The same bitch who said that shit about degrees to me before was our staff. I was fucking her over with some mad logic when she got fed up and sent me to my room. This, is when shit started getting bad. I whipped the screwdriver out of my pocket (LOLOLOL dick joke) and slowly went to the window, seeing it the screws would move. They did. They went almost all the way out. I heard someone coming for my room after a bit of toying with the screws and I walked to the door. It was Herb and the second he came in he noticed me approaching him and asked me what I was doing. I acted confused.

"What?" I said, dumbfounded.
"Why were you walking towards me from the window?" he asked.
"Um, I was looking out the window" I said back,. This was a mistake.
"Now there's your first lie right there, Tristan, the blinds are shut on that window, you couldn't have been looking out of it. Now believe me when I say its better to just tell me what's going on"
I tried talking more, after jumping up on to my shitty bed,
"Ok, I was looking at the window"
"I already know those blinds-"
"No, looking at it. Like finding how I could get out"
He looked at me and smiled that smile that people smile to let you know when that they aren't as dumb as they look.

"What's in your pocket, Tristan." (lol dick joke)
He didn't ask this as a question, he just stated it. I didn't asnwer.
I took it out, and he was surprised.
"Where did you get this?" He asked, staring at it in his hand.
"I got it in the school room" was all I said. He told me to wait in my room until he got back. My court date was the next morning. I totally fucked myself over.

Wow, this story is a bit longer then I expected.

I hate Herb.

What I hate about mental hospitals is once you get in you are tagged as a mad man and the "doctors" "know what they are doing" and "have experience in the area" and you may never know when you are free because they will insist you with unevidential bullshit.

the only thing that keeps this from being a very scary thriller, is the fact that you're actually here to tell us about it, so we know you got out

Quote from: Maddox;1355099the only thing that keeps this from being a very scary thriller, is the fact that you're actually here to tell us about it, so we know you got out

OR DID HE?

get on aim nigga

Also, continue.

Lol, that entire thing sucks ass. Your more sane then some of the "Doctors" (Mainly the degree girl)

They took me to a room. The quiet room, which earlier they put in an 8 year old girl in after tackling her to the ground and sedating her twice for throwing a small fit in the kids room. Now, I was in it. Me. Totally fucking sane guy. The room was small, like a bathroom, maybe a bit wider. It didn't have comfy foam walls and floors it was all made of tile. The ceiling had horrible looking metal vents, and a light that shone so bright that it hurt your eyes to stare at it. It was all white tile, with scratches on it in some places. I sat. I covered my head and sat, staring down at the floor, wondering what the fuck was going to happen to me.

Someone opened the door. It was Herb. He said some stuff to me that I don't remember at all, then left. He came back in with a woman staff member who forced me to swallow a pill. I'm totally against all forms of pills unless I'm dying, but I took it anyway. I sat on the ground some more. I stared at that fucking tile wall so long I memorized part of it. I didn't count the tiles or anything, because they were uneven and every time I started to count I wondered why the fuck I would count tiles to save time and would stop, then start, then stop once again. I heard everyone whispering outside, the voices echoed off the walls in there, blurring them all together from 4 sides, and making a loud inaudible mess that took long to decipher. Quiet room my ass.

Herb came back in and made me take my shitty mattress in there, like I would sleep in that horrible room. They turned the lights off and I cried. I just thought about Abby, and how I was in a fucking MENTAL HOSPITAL and I just cried. I cried silently, because someone might hear, but it was still one of the most painful cries I've ever had in my entire life. And fuck anyone that thinks only pussies cry, because even the hardest fucker of them all has cried before; everyone cries. Everyone. After crying, I tried to think of happy things and get to sleep. Sleeping was the hardest part. The staff wouldn't shut the fuck up. After a long amount of time that was only made longer by the quiet room I started listening to my beating heart and slowly drifted off in to sleep. I didn't dream; at that point in my life, I hadn't dreamed for months.

I blinked. I blinked again. I saw a light, and my mind slowly looked for something to connect it to, someone had opened my door and told me it was time to wake up. I went to my room, walking past several staff wearing the same bullshit smiles as everyone else and brushed my teeth. I met up with Dillon who I thought would be mad at me but he smiled and was like "They put me in the fucking smaller quiet room for nothing, man. What the fuck is wrong with them?"

"It's hard as fuck to sleep in that fucking room." I said back to him.
"Hell yeah, I didn't get to bed till like 2 AM man, fucking staff"

We went to go get food and every kid in the entire place knew what had happened. I didn't talk, I barely ate, I stared at a spot on the table, and just waited. The court people came and talked to Dillon first. He came out with a frown, he had that "I'm about to fuck you up" look on his face that he had when he first arrived at Snowden unexpectedly and punched his step dad's face in for bringing him there, breaking his nose. It was obvious to me he wasn't leaving. They made him sit outside of the room on a desk and when I passed him to go to my hearing I quietly whispered "Fuck Snowden" I was assigned a lawyer, and sure enough, some thin guy with glasses was my judge. Excellent.

I hope you get out.

This seriously does seem like a story of some sort. It doesn't seem real. Copy this, get it published. Get money. Hire hitman for Tony.

My lawyer was pretty fucking good. He was also pretty fucking old, and had some pretty fucking big moles on his face. He was a nice guy, we talked a little bit after the hearing about pro-bono work, he was doing it because he wanted to and also, there was an adequate fee for mental patients he added. I chuckled. But before that point, here I was, in the same schoolroom I found the screwdriver, with the tables arranged differently, and with my mom. She had visited earlier and I barely spoke to her. I just told her to leave and she did.

The hearing began. People said some shit, my lawyer said some shit, the judge said some shit, the judge said some more shit, this one thin guy said some shit, my mom said some fake dramatic shit, my lawyer said some more shit, then asked me some shit, to which I replied, yes! You guessed right! Some shit. And suddenly the judge had made his decision. I was free to go. This was when my mom threw a bitch fit about how I needed another week or two in that horrid place. I smiled, then I frowned at her, then I smiled some more. I was free! I was fucking free! Free of the annoying staff, free of the quiet room, free of my shitty bed, and free of the asshole patients! Free! What a good thing it is to have the feeling of freedom, if not for a little while. I smiled and everyone knew I was set to go. Megan frowned at me. It was her birthday the next day. I later found out, she spent another week before they let her go and her parents didn't give a shit.

I finally stepped out to get my first breath of fresh after what felt like months, it was the most refreshing breath I have ever taken. I saw Herb as I was exiting, he looked surprised to see me out in the open and smiled and said
"So they let you go, huh?"
"Yup" I simply replied.
He headed back for the building and I called him
"Herb" He turned around.
"Have a good day man."
He smiled and went back in the building.

I managed to get Megan's aim. I never spoke to anyone else in there ever again.

THE FUCKING END.

If you guys want more stories about my life like this, I'd love to tell them. I'm glad I can tell them to you guys and have you take them seriously.

lol splatter is a crazy mofo who makes up stories!!!

(Can it be question time now?)

Makes up stories lol
100% true mate.

Ask away.

That was a good story.  Sorry to hear about all that though.

I said that cause you were like "we all take them seriously" lol.

So like, under what symptoms did they admit you to the hospital? And what happened to Abby?