Solitary was nice. I don’t remember much of it. They sedated me, see, and somehow got me to go back into the rec room. I don’t remember that either. Funny how I remember more when I’m full of recreational drugs, isn’t it?
“There, see?” the orderly smiled cautiously at me, guiding me into the rec room where all the fucking loonies were hanging out, “it’s not so bad in here.” He took me over to a sofa and patted the end of it. There were other crazies on it. I shook my head. He patted the end again. I glanced at the ones on the sofa and made up my mind, if I had to sit, I’d sit, but not with them.
“Up. Get out. This is my sofa now,” I told them, sitting on the end and pushing them off with my feet until I had the sofa to myself.
“Now, that was uncalled for,” the orderly said, sighing.
“No it wasn’t. You wanted me to sit down, but I’m not gonna sit next to a bunch of freaks.”
“You have to get over it, Mr. Morgan, you’re here now, and unless you want to spend the next god knows how long in prison, you’re just going to have to get on with it,” he said in the monotone these words were becoming.
“Then I’ll plead insanity and get a reduced sentence,” I smiled up at him, too sleepy to cave his head in, which was what I wanted to do.
“You’ll end up back here.”
“No,” he shook his head, seeing that I was quite happy to go in circles until he clocked off, “just try and settle in, okay? I’m sure you’ll find some of the people in here are quite lovely.”
“I won’t. They’re all insane. More than me,” I insisted, “I don’t wanna talk to a bunch of people more fucking crazy than I am. That’s not going to help me. Hey, where are you going? I’m not done with-” the door swung shut behind him and I scowled at it. Fuck you very much, then.
The red haired girl I saw earlier on my way to solitary wandered into view.
“You haven’t found a way out of this fucking place yet, then?” I asked.