Welcome To Brookside
Ok...so I created a group story a while ago. Well..I created the sign-ups that is. Finally getting it posted so yeah! sorry to everyone who's in the story for taking so long! and to see character list then click on this link!
Brookside Mental Hospital And The Time I Cried
The voices wouldnâ€™t stop. The constant flashbacks, but not anything Iâ€™d seen before. It was all so overwhelming and made my head pound. I was sitting in the front seat of the car, head against the window as I listened to the pounding of the rain against the glass, trying to get rid of my headache. Today was the day. Today, for me, Christopher James Thomson, though I didnâ€™t know it yet, everything was going to change. Mother glanced over at me with concern.
â€œFeeling alright?â€ she asked. I sighed and closed my eyes in response. â€œDidnâ€™t think soâ€¦â€ she muttered. Inside my head were the never-ending cries of others, the speaking of things that werenâ€™t happening. The whispering slowly grew louder, though I couldnâ€™t make out what any of the voices were saying until I heard just three words. â€˜Brookside Mental Hospital.â€™ Instantly, my eyes snapped open and I sat up with a quick gasp. My mum glanced at me with wide eyes. â€œWhat is it, whatâ€™s wrong?â€ she questioned with clear worry in her voice. My eyes darted over to look at her.
â€œMumâ€¦â€ I muttered, biting my lower lip. â€œWhereâ€™re we, uhâ€¦ Whereâ€™re we going?â€ I asked nervously. She looked back at the road with a stern expression, but calm.
â€œThe grocery, darling,â€ she responded simply. I glanced out the window, watching as we passed the grocery store. I knew where we were really going, but I didnâ€™t want to believe it.
â€œWeâ€¦ We passed it,â€ I mumbled, touching a hand to the window. â€œWhereâ€™re we going?â€ I repeated with a bit more worry. My mother was silent and I looked over at her in fear. I knew. And it terrified me. â€œWhere are we going?â€ I demanded again. She didnâ€™t respond. Looking back out the window, I saw the sign for â€˜Brookside Mental Hospitalâ€™ and panicked. â€œYou promisedâ€¦â€ I murmured, voice breaking. â€œYou promised me you wouldnâ€™t.â€ The car slowed to a stop and I looked at Mum again with terror and confusion. â€œYou promised!â€ I shouted.
â€œItâ€™s for your own good,â€ she snapped, refusing to look at me. I shook my head in disbelief, mouth hanging open with utter shock.
â€œBut you saidâ€¦ You said after Daddy-â€
â€œI know what I said, but now this is necessary. Iâ€™m sorry,â€ she replied quickly. I swallowed hard, my pounding heart making the headache all the worse.
â€œYou said it was normalâ€¦â€
â€œThe clothing, darling, but when you told me about-â€
â€œI thought I could tell you anything, but instead youâ€¦ You lied. Youâ€¦ Why?â€ A tear slipped down my cheek, but I ignored it. Iâ€™d been to a mental hospital before, long ago, back in Northampton. I was just a boy then and my father had been abusing me in every way imaginable. When I tried to tell Mum, Dad merely sent me off to the mental hospital; made me seem insane in a number of ways. Not that I wasnâ€™t already, being physically and mentally abused did that to you. As soon as my mother found out about the trick, we ran away, taking my brother Scott with us.
â€œYou remember what they did? When I was a kid, do you remember?â€ I was now asking my mother as we sat in the car in the parking lot of the Brookside hospital.
â€œYes, of course I remember!â€ she exclaimed, suddenly very obviously frustrated with my unwillingness to go. â€œThat was before you wereâ€¦ Differentâ€¦â€ I laughed in irritation and crossed my arms, looking away from her and shaking my head. Before I was different? Iâ€™d always been this wayâ€¦
â€œWell what?â€ I snapped.
â€œYouâ€™ve changed! Youâ€™ve changed, Christopher.â€
â€œMe?â€ I glared at her. â€œWhat about you? You used to be on my side, remember?â€ I yelled. â€œYou and me, running from everybody else!â€ I paused. â€œRunning from Dad!â€ I pressed my lips together tightly, staring at her sternly. â€œRunning fromâ€¦ Anyone who thought I was mad.â€
â€œI know, but now things are different. Without your fa- without your brother-â€
â€œOh, yeah! There it is!â€ I rolled my eyes, throwing my hands in the air. She always pulled that one. Used my brother as an excuse.
â€œItâ€™s hard now! And youâ€™ve shown me that you need help, Christopher! Youâ€™ve told me about the voices and I think you might have some sort of stress disorder,â€ she said through her teeth.
â€œIâ€™m fine, mother!â€ I shouted in response. â€œIâ€™ve had it all my life, itâ€™s not going to change anything to come here now! Just let it go!â€
â€œYouâ€™re not fine,â€ she said automatically.
â€œWhat am I going to do when Iâ€¦â€ I trailed off, glancing off to the side nervously. I felt tears well in my eyes again and squeezed them shut. â€œHow will I cope?â€ There were things I did most boys didnâ€™t do. Not that I was gay or something, butâ€¦ I knew people would just think Iâ€™m all the more crazy or simply make fun of me. Not just the nursesâ€¦ The crazy people would make fun of me. She stared at me for a few moments, a bit of sympathy in her eyes, though I wasnâ€™t sure I believed it.
â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ she murmured. â€œBut this is the way it has to be.â€ I looked down and bit my quivering lip, blinking away petrified tears. I didnâ€™t wanna go back. The first time was Hell and I wasnâ€™t prepared to cope through that again. Course that was a different hospital. A different time, butâ€¦ I didnâ€™t trust any of them. Mum grabbed a black umbrella from the back seat and got out of the car, extending it in the pouring rain. I furrowed my brows and angrily climbed out of the car, my mother rushing over to cover me with the umbrella. I simply pushed her away, crossing my arms tightly over my chest and walking toward the doors of the tall, spooky-looking building. I didnâ€™t want to be anywhere near her. Sheâ€™d promised Iâ€™d never have to go back to one of these places and yet here we were. She betrayed me. Worse, she was going to abandon me. She quickly followed anyhow, sadness in her eyes, for me I suppose and I hoped she felt disappointment in herself, though I couldnâ€™t really tell so easily. All I knew was that she shouldâ€™ve been ashamed. When we reached the inside of the building, I was soaked and freezing, shivering as I walked over to a chair and took a seat. Mum shook off the umbrella and pulled open the double doors, entering just a while after me. I was already sitting in the waiting room when she stepped inside. She looked over at me and sighed sadly at my dripping wet, trembling form. I was glaring at the floor, legs crossed, a puddle forming on the ground beneath me. My mother walked up to the front desk to sign me in, to explain the situation and leave me there for who knew how long. I didnâ€™t want her to visit after all this. Ever.
The woman at the front desk seemed friendly enough. She was dark-skinned, her long black hair pulled back into a ponytail. She had a pretty face and a kind smile, her long nails neatly trimmed. She set down some paperwork for my mother to fill out and tapped on it with a smile. â€œJust go through those for now. Later you andâ€¦â€ She nodded toward me. â€œI take it thatâ€™s your son. Will talk to a counselor; find out where heâ€™s best to be put.â€
â€œThank you,â€ Mother replied with a smile. She quickly began filling out the papers, but paused after the first few in realisation. â€œThere are a few things you should know about him, though,â€ she began telling the woman at the front desk. I perked up at this, glancing up at the two conversing women. I wanted to see how this would go down. â€œHeâ€¦ Well, I donâ€™t know if itâ€™s normal, but he needs to have-â€ I quickly stopped her.
â€œNo. Iâ€™m fine, mum. I donâ€™tâ€¦â€ I bit my lip nervously. â€œIâ€™ll be alright.â€ I sighed, swallowing hard and looking at the floor again. The woman looked from me to her in confusion.
â€œIâ€™m sorry, is there something I should know?â€ she asked politely.
â€œNo, if he says heâ€™s fine...â€ She sighed. â€œIâ€™m sure heâ€™s fine.â€
My heart pounded in my chest. No I wasnâ€™t fine. Why had I said that? Stopped her from helping me? There was no way I was going to be fine. I wasnâ€™t going to be able to cope, not withoutâ€¦ How could I survive here? I couldnâ€™t. That was the truth. There was no way she could make me stay here. I stood, about ready to bolt out the doors. I was 19, she couldnâ€™t make my decisions for me anymore. I was an adult.
â€œIâ€™m so sorryâ€¦â€ she breathed, noticing that Iâ€™d stood. I stared at her for just a few moments before dashing for the doors. The woman at the desk stood quickly and pressed a small button on the desk, calling in a few of the heavy built, male nurses that worked there. They quickly came in and rushed toward me just as I was reaching for the door handle. Grabbing me from under the arms, they began dragging me back inside. I screamed and struggled, clawing and kicking, but to no avail. They had me. And now, I was going to be in the mental hospital. For a very long time.
As they dragged me past the nurse at the front desk, I caught a glimpse of her sympathetic face and heard her say softly, in an almost soothing tone,
â€œWelcome to Brookside, Mr. Thomson.â€