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The young woman had been here far longer than most of the other patients. Over a year was considered a veteran around these parts. This title was apparent as most groaned and moaned over the persistent nature of Fairchild's clapping, while Evangeline eyes opened diligently around the ringing of the first clap. The Restoril had made her feel groggy, and a bit elusive to things, but the routine was good balance to the side effects of the drug. Turning over to her other side from her bottom bunk she glanced at her shelf of items. It was more cluttered than some of her room mates, but had a sense of order to it, as not to cause any issues. She had been approached by one too many people over it to not keep it as such.

Knowing that the bathrooms would begin to fill up and that meant the less hot water there would be, Eva took not too many more minutes in bed under the blankets before she raised herself from the bed. She turned and made it as best as she could to standard. By no means was she a perfectionist, but she did like to keep things together and not get yelled at by the staff. Striding quickly to the sanitary closet Eva removed her box labeled with her name as she made her way out of the room and to the designated lavatories.

As the water slammed against Evangeline's back she arched her shoulders and closed her eyes. In her mind she began to play a puzzle game with herself. She already knew the algorithm on how to solve it, but she had the urge to keep herself busy with puzzles rather than thoughts of other things. "What can I bring with me through the green glass door?" she pondered to herself, "I can bring a puppy and a kitty, but I can't bring a cat or a dog." she continued, as she began to clean herself of the previous hours filth "Yes, I can bring a pineapple but I can't bring a pear." the puzzle was solved by only allowing words with double letters in them through the make believe item of the 'green glass door'. By the time she had thought of several more items she could and could not bring, she was done with her shower and had finished the rest of her hygienic routine that occurred daily.

Returning her box, she then went over to the day room to do her daily weigh in and blood pressure. Both were fairly average, though her blood pressure sometimes hit on the higher scale. Usually they just retook it until she could be a bit normalized. It didn't matter how long you stayed at Treewit, a sense of that doctor's panic often set in anytime you needed a measurement done or a one on one with someone. Eva had been thankful she didn't need to take much for medication, while some of her fellow residents were gulping down mouthfuls of all different sizes, shapes, and easy fixes.

Food was sounding better and better as she had finally made her way with the first line to the lunch room. Evangeline liked her showers and her meals hot, and she strongly disliked waiting for either of the two. Her dark brown eyes gazed over the meal that was being served today: eggs, sausage, fruit, toast, milk, and juice. All delicious in their own mind set, but Evangeline decided to settle on the eggs and toast, and some juice to wash it down.

Ultimately Eva was a very friendly and caring person, though her break downs from sensitivity often made a wall up between her and some of the residents. A warm smile however was given to Raf as he motioned for several of them to sit at the table together. She didn't mind sitting with anyone, loving a good conversation no matter the time of the day. "Thank you." she cooed, as she found a seat. She began to proceed to take the eggs and shovel it onto the toast making a makeshift breakfast sandwich. Her eyes slowly darting to and from some of the newer people as she took bites of her creation.

I am startled awake by the rambunctious, loud clapping of the same woman who kept peeking in the room all morning. When exactly had I even managed to fall asleep? All night they had sent people - most likely techs of some sort - through the ward to check my room in what seemed like fifteen minute intervals. I don’t know if this is because I’m new… or if this is normal practice, but between that, and the squeaky noises the plastic mattresses had made every time one of us moved, I didn’t really get much sleep. To be quite honest, I haven’t voluntarily slept much at all in the past month.

August 4^th, 2016. That was the day that I voluntarily decided that I wanted to sleep forever. I was done pretending to be a boy ...a girl ...alive. I was simply done pretending to be anything at all. Yet here I am, distinctly not sleeping forever, not even sleeping through the night. I had never really thought much about the divine before - my parents aren’t religious, and my grandparents only slightly are. Of course, I thought about it that Sunday night, telepathically sending in my heavenly RSVP to whoever might be listening. But now, as I stare up at the ceiling from my top bunk as my two very obviously boy-shaped roommates stir in their own beds, I am now certain of divine existence. You see, I actually did die on August 4^th, and because the Almighty Shepherd could not accept a sheep that was neither black nor white into His flock, I awoke in Hell.

So, let us begin day one in Hell. We’ll call this day one, because I arrived at Treewit Psychiatric Hospital yesterday evening, and that doesn’t really count as a full day. I was only introduced to my roommates Rafael and “Sacha” so far, and they are both quite good looking and, as previously stated, quite masculine as well. My mother had politely informed the desk clerk of my pronoun preference when they had referred to me as her ‘son’ at check in, but they still assigned me to this room per their chromosome-based gender policies. One point for Hell, zero for Niki, I guess…

Raf is the first to get out of bed and, because I was informed that there is a tight schedule to be followed here, I blink the sleep from my eyes and follow suit. A bit like a lost puppy dog, I literally follow him out into the hallway, a few paces behind as to not seem too obvious about it. Rafael heads toward the closet at the end of the hall and plucks out a box with his name on it. Scanning the rows of labeled boxes, I find one labeled ‘Zabrecky’ with a crisp, fresh sticker and take it off of the shelf. Inside it lies a few basic hygiene products, which I take with me to the unisex bathroom. At least there is a gender neutral bathroom here. One point for Hell, one point for Niki, nice.

I brush my teeth and apply some deodorant for the day before looking into the mirror above the sinks. The 'mirror' is a large metal sheet, not glass, and it is solidly bolted into the wall - most likely to keep freaks like me from carving themselves up like a Thanksgiving turkey. I looked down at my arms, both covered in horizontal dashes in various stages of scarring. My left arm has the newest addition, a fresh pink line from wrist to mid-forearm that makes the whole collection look like a gruesome set of train tracks. I pull down my shirt sleeve and hope that I have more long-sleeved clothing to wear around here before looking back in the mirror.

Apparently, I am not yet allowed a comb or brush, as there is not one in the box. Perhaps we are expected to bring our own, but I didn’t really get to stop home on my trip from medical hospital to psychiatric hospital. As such, I am forced to finger-comb my dirty blonde, sleep-wrecked locks into something slightly more presentable. Plagued with dark circles to contrast my newfound pallor, I decide that I look appropriately ghastly for a dead person, and leave the bathroom before the mirror can really sink it’s claws into me. I’ll shower later if they let me, I prefer nighttime showers anyway.

After returning my hygiene box to the closet, I follow the foot traffic of other patients to the dayroom. People are being called out by name and receiving medicine cups with various pill cocktails. My wide eyes must make me look as lost I feel, or perhaps just very new, because the nurse meets my gaze and asks ”Nikolai… Zabrecky?”, pausing in between to look down and confirm the name on their paperwork. I nod up and down quickly, rather than saying ‘yes’ out loud. I am handed a cup with a single pill in it. Upon inspection, it is light green and oval-shaped, with ‘25’ and some random letters stamped into it. I have no idea what it is, but I swallow it just the same, and can’t help but think of that Ramones song... I wanna be sedated. Yeah, that sounds about right. Whatever it is, maybe it will help me get some sleep.

The nurse instructs me to be weighed before I head to breakfast. The hospital has some kind of fancy scale that keeps me from seeing the result of me standing on it. The tech measuring my weight doesn’t say anything either, they just scribble it down on their clipboard, which is honestly fine with me. I don’t really want to know anymore… not yet, at least. I am informed that I must check in to be weighed every morning and night before meals. Great. Two points for Hell, one point for Niki.

There is a small crowd of patients, my roommates included, waiting to be lead to the cafeteria. The clapping lady has to keycard swipe us into the hallway and proceeds to shuffle all of us little sheep into a mostly straight and single-file line towards our destination. I quickly grab the first tray of food that I can and dart towards an unoccupied table. If I am lucky, it will remain unoccupied. As the resident stranger in a strange land, I am well aware of the fact that it probably won’t remain that way for long - this isn’t my first time being the ‘shiny new thing’, after all. Once sitting, I take the time to study what is actually on my tray. It is pretty standard breakfast fair and doesn’t look wholly unappetising. I don’t really feel like eating it, but the two staff members circling the room like sharks make it seem like that isn’t really an option here. Ehh, three points for Hell, one point for Niki.

As predicted, I did not remain alone for long. A tan girl (Ivana) quietly sat a comfortable distance away and stared down at her plate of food, looking equally disturbed by it. She doesn’t greet me or even directly look at me, which is ideal, really. Now another girl (Eva) and my roommate, Raf, are here, and they sit even closer, smiling. I keep my eyes down and swallow a bite of sausage. My nerves make the bite go down hard, so I chase it with some juice, avoiding eye contact in the hopes that they won’t say anything. And, because they do eventually say something, we are now at a score of four points for Hell, one point for Niki, and it isn’t even 9 AM of day one yet.

Josephine

_{8:00 A.M Bedroom, Bathroom, Cafeteria}

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The sound of clapping not only surprised Josephine who startled out of bed, but also raised bouts of anger irrationally.mHer gaze switched onto Miss Fairchild. One day soon, Josie would find that woman's sleeping quarters and bang pots and pans inside of her room repeatedly. She would find something to irritate this woman. That she was sure of, and was not going to let go of that goal. Why couldn't they fire this woman and bring back the nice one? What the hell was this woman's purpose? Josie grumbled, slipping out of bed and onto the floor. She watched Evangeline head to the shower and sighed. She wished she could have her own schedule but these people insisted on controlling their everyday life. It drove her crazy. She hated sticking to it, and was often too energetic to sit around and do what they wanted her to. Her restlessness kept her awake at night and sometimes, she found it impossible to sleep. It wasn't enough to be insomnia, but her racing thoughts wouldn't turn off. It was harder with all these random people in the room with her. She didn't trust them at all. How did the staff expect her to just sleep?

After she climbed out of bed (by now, two other girls had left), Josie grabbed her box. She glanced over at the idle patient laying in bed - what was her name? Oh hell, Josie didn't care. She sighed and went to the bathroom and found her own spot. She stared in the mirror, tracing her reflection in the mirror. How'd you get here, JC? she thought to herself as she turned her attention to showering, Where did you go wrong? Of course she was aware of what had pissed off her parents: the intercourse, in the least, was the last straw. She had used protection. What was the big deal? Her idiot brother did way worse than her but wasn't ever caught because she existed to take his blame. And God, did they overreact on shit.

She rolled her eyes and showered, carefully taking her time. She didn't want to have to speak to anyone. Josephine was not in the mood to speak to these people. She of course wanted not to be looked down upon; that would not suit her. In the back of her mind, Josie remembered her old academy. It had been amazing being there until her parents pulled her out. The friends she had made - Josie felt dominant, powerful, and in control. But now, she felt none of that and felt lost. She climbed out of the shower once she finished. She continued with her hygiene routine and glanced over. There were still others around so she pulled her hair back into elaborate fishtail braids. She wanted to keep something of her old self in this wretched place. Besides, Josephine was sure nobody would care.

It wasn't until she was finished and ready that she forgot to use deodorant. Josephine groaned and doubled back. She used it and hoped nobody else had seen. Sometimes, she recalled, her parents would yell at her for not remembering basic things. It had upset her to times she had gone in her room and slept the entire day; others, she remembered, becoming defensive and fighting them in return. Josie rubbed her head and pushed away the memories, feeling a slight sting in her chest.

She returned to her room and lazily tossed her box onto its' shelf. To her, it didn't mater where it landed, as long as the damn thing was on the stupid shelf. Her body pulsed with energy and she itched to move around on her own but she followed the others out. The schedule as confusing her and annoyed her: she hated sticking to it. On top of that, the medication she hated even more. "King," Josephine stepped up for her medication and took the pill in her hands. She wrinkled her nose and rolled it around. Why did she need this? She hated taking medication, especially after her parents doped her up with a bunch of crap. Josephine huffed loudly, scrunching her shoulders and narrowing her gaze at the doctor. To her displeasure, she took the medication and glared with hostility at the staff.

She followed the other patients, folding her arms with displeasure and scowling. It was no secret she hated being here: there was nothing she liked about this place. Josephine found a spot in line and refused to budge, forcing people to move around her. If anyone dared to test her, she gave them a piercing glare. She shuffled into the cafeteria with the others and over to the line. She grabbed everything, not bothering to be generous. Josephine only put food back when a lunch lady barked at her enough times to annoy her.

Josephine rolled her eyes once more and looked around for a table. Most of the areas were littered with people. However, one table was not, and that was with Raf, Evangeline, and Nikki. Josephine wasn't quite positive what the latter was here for, and decided not to comment. She didn't care nor wanted to know. Raf and Evangeline were nice souls - and it frankly disgusted her. How could they be so friendly? It made her shudder. She huffed and sat down nearby their stupid smiling faces. Nikki, thank God, didn't look up. She started to eat without greeting anyone or glancing around. While sitting, Josie bounced her leg and soon became distracted by everyone else. This meant she paid attention - which was agonizing - to the others. Dear God, did anyone actually care?

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Kiera was stuck, tears blurring her vision and falling down her cheeks as she gasped for air. His naked body lay on top of hers, hairy and extremely sweaty. She never let out a sound, not when he touched her, not when he had his way with her. The thirteen year old girl was completely silent as he grunted in her ear, "Don't run from it, Kiera. You know you like it." She just laid there, still and stiff, eyes puffy and nose dripping with snot. The pain was excruciating, but she knew better than to scream. She knew that even the slightest groan of pain would instantly turn him off. Then he would get angry again. He would make her regret it.He'd punish her. He'd make her beg for him to stop, before rolling on top of her again, stuffing some of the bed sheets into her mouth so he wouldn't have to hear her yell. It'd be hard for her to breathe; her sinuses blocked, mouth full, and his two hundred pound body crushing her. After a while she'd fall unconscious, his voice slowly starting to fade away. Kiera was stuck.

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She woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. Her bottom lip was trembling, and her body was shivering. This was the tenth time this month that she has had the same nightmare, a suppressed memory from when she was younger. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was as she lay still, staring up at the white ceiling tiles. She could here Miss Fairchild, clap her hands loudly at the doorway, and a moment later, flick on the lights. That was her cue to get out of bed, same as it was every morning. It has always been the same routine; there was little to no change in the six months that she's been stuck in Treewit. She woke up every morning, much to her dismay, took care of her personal hygiene, had her blood pressure taken, took her meds, ate breakfast, and went to her morning therapy session. Every morning was the same, it was all a simple routine. Consistency was good, especially for Kiera.

Finally sitting up in bed, swinging her legs over so she could stand, Kiera decided to get started on her routine. She made her bed, first and foremost, before grabbing her hygiene box and making her way to a stall in the female bathrooms. Every morning she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and took a three minute shower. Today's shower, however, took five minutes because she'd decided to wash her hair. She let her hair air dry and curl up as she deodorized and got dressed. By the time she'd finished looking at herself in the mirror and putting her hygiene box away, her hair was about half-way dry, and it was time to head to the day room. As she stood around, waiting for her medicine, Kiera took a look around the room. Having been there for six months, she knew almost everyone in Treewit. Granted, she never really spoke to that many people, but she knew who they were. "Miller!" Kiera's head snapped forward, her eyes widening before realizing that it was her turn to take the pills. Smiling nervously at the nurse, she grabbed the condiment cup and swallowed the pills one by one, each followed by a small sip of water. "Good morning to you, Toya," the nurse said once she'd handed her back the cup. Kiera just smiled and nodded her head at the sound of the familiar nickname. Ever since she first arrived, she'd decided to go by the name Toya, a shortened version of her middle name, simply because she liked the sound of it.

After having her blood pressure taken, which was seemingly normal, she followed the other patients to the cafeteria. She could tell what was being served before they even reached the line, she smell of sausage and eggs wafting up to her nose. Her eyes peering down at the food, she smiled to herself once she saw what was being served; eggs, sausage, fruit, toast, milk, and juice. Sausage had always been one of her favorite things to eat at breakfast. Sure, they probably wouldn't taste at all like how they did at IHOP, but they were, nonetheless, still sausages, and there was no way that she'd turn them down. Not being a big fan of eggs, Kiera filled her tray with sausage, toast, and fruit. She'd also decided to grab a carton of regular two percent milk, before turning to find a place to sit. After just a few seconds of standing with her tray in her hands, Kiera spotted Raf at one of the four tables, gesturing for her and others to join him at the table. "Guys, guys, c'mere," he said, "we gotta get to know the new kids!" Letting out a quiet chuckle, Kiera made her way to the circular table, which was almost full. She recognized all but two, those that she instantly identified as the "new kids."

Kiera ended up taking the seat next to Eva, an older girl who'd been there long before she was. Although never really having a full conversation with the girl, she knew her to be a kind and friendly chick. Kiera muttered a quick, "Wassup," before taking a large bite of her toast. She was quiet person, but she certainly was not timid.

Ivana stared at the door, frozen in shock. Was that woman honest to God clapping her hands to wake them up and switching on the light? Her eyes widened, jaw slack, and found herself afraid to move. It was so rude. What in the world? Is this how they woke up people? It caused panic to surge through her. This was so... unfair? She didn't know how else to describe it. Her mind was a blank. She turned to find her roommates moving to get up, one by one. She watched them and looked around in confusion. They all grabbed a box with their last name written on it and moved off to the showers. Ivana looked at her hands. She had them clenched all night since she hadn't been able to sleep. She didn't feel comfortable showering, not one bit. The amount of discomfort made her skin crawl. Nonetheless, she swung her legs over her bed side and stood up. She shuffled over to the shelf and grabbed her box. Though she wouldn't shower with others around, she would clean up.

Ivana found an empty area and stared at the showers. Everyone was using it... Oh lord, would they judge her? Like she cared. Ivana didn't are so why should she worry about the others' thoughts? They were all in here to get better from whatever they had. Ivana cleaned herself up, though she didn't shower. She pulled her hair into a bun lazily and exited. She set her box back onto the shelf and followed the others out. Ivana had received a routine schedule upon arrival though she still felt confused. Her joints ached and she felt incredibly cold. She wore warm clothes but it didn't help too much. Everything felt cold to her lately.

A nurse came over and took her blood pressure. Ivana watched her settle the cuff on her arm and looked away. She hated having this procedure done and being here. The feeling of the cuff squeezing her arm always bothered her, too. It also reminded her of being in the doctor's office and hospital. It was a reminder she was sick, and the reason for it. At least, her parents and friends called her sick, but Ivana wasn't sure if that was the right word for it. A cold wave of panic and grief settled over her and she found her breathing becoming irregular. The nurse, noticing the sudden change in blood pressure, began to speak soothingly and rub her arm. Ivana didn't notice: her voice sounded distant. She sank to her knees, clutching her head and breathing rapidly. It felt like hours, but the nurse managed to calm her and help her up. Ivana remained silent, their soothing voices doing nothing to console her. It didn't seem like anything would... Ellen was gone, and the guilt... Oh God.

The nurse, noticing Ivy's dilated pupils, clammy hands, and hot forehead, moved her over to the scale. This did nothing to console her but induce panic and fear. Was she heavy? Ivy felt it, sure as hell figured she looked it too. She tried to watch her number, but the machine was designed not to let her see it. Ivy buried her head in her hands. The nurse surely thought she was big, didn't she? She glanced at the nurse who remained irritably (to Ivy's distinction, anyway), impassive. While Ivana tried to look over her notes, the nurse tilted the paper way and escorted her outside. Ivana felt tension rising, especially seeing all the other patients. There were so many people here... What were these teens in for? It boggled her mind to see everyone so young and inside a psych facility.

Afterwards, they were called one by one to take their medication. Ivana stiffened. Her name was eventually called. She stumbled upfront weakly and coughed into her arm. She stared at the pill the doctor headed to her and felt dread. She took it in her hands and stared. What would this to do her? She glanced up and met the doctor's gaze. He nodded encouragingly to her and smiled kindly. Ivy narrowed her gaze and stared at the pill. She shook her head and turned away. A nurse looked at her but Ivana kept going to the cafeteria. Her heart rate increased. She stared at the food and cringed mentally; a boy had exclaimed "Jesus! They're stuffing us!" and Ivana felt pins and needles rub through her body. No way would she stuff herself. Ivana didn't want to be her in the first place. She took food and scowled at the ground as she left the lunch line. She felt horrible inside. Hot, clammy, and shaky; this place was daunting. Ivana glanced around. There was only one table, though primarily full, that had room left. Ivana shakily came over to it and sat down.

She glanced around: one boy, couple girls, and perhaps a non-gendered person. Ivana decided to label the mas a they instead of a female or male pronoun and sighed. She kept her gaze down on her food and munched on a few eggs. What would Ellen think of her here? Would she be disappointed? Ivana felt a rush of guilt and sadness and took it out on eating instead: she started to pretend she forgot about her food and looked outside instead. She felt too skittish to greet anyone or speak. They would probably, to her dismay, end up leaving before a friendship could be forged. She sighed loudly and hunched her shoulders.