Bring Me to Life
The Intern
Six Months Later (In Group Therapy):
“Michael? Would you like to say anything?” I looked up to see my group therapist, Dr. Miller, staring at me. I shook my head, I heard her sigh and she spoke again, “Michael you’ve been coming here for six months; this is a safe environment you can say anything you want.”
“I have nothing to say,” I muttered, casting my gaze away from her. I had yet to talk about what had happened to me, the only people who knew here were Dr. Bryant and Dr. Miller, but that was only because it was in my file. I was afraid if I began to talk about it that I would finally break; that there would be no going back. Dr. Bryant kept telling me that the only way to start moving on was if I starting talking about it, that if I began to accept what happened to me that the nightmares would stop. But I didn’t want to accept it; I wanted to forget about it.
“Alright,” Dr. Miller stated, “You guys are dismissed…Michael can you stay for a moment please?” I nodded and watched as all the other people filed out the door and walked to the dining hall. I stood up and went up to Dr. Miller.
“Both Dr. Bryant and I agree that talking about what happened to you would be the best way to start the process of moving on.” She stated.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to forget about it, I want to act like it never happened. I want my life back, like it was before everything. I’m not going to talk about it, not to you, not to Dr. Bryant, not to anyone. So you can tell Dr. Bryant that it is never going to happen, I just want to get out of here and put everything behind me.”
“You aren’t ready to leave yet, and you know that. If you were to leave we would prescribed multiple medications and I know that isn’t what you want. We are trying to help you Michael.” When I looked at Dr. Miller she looked like she meant it, but then again isn’t she paid to look like she cared?
“I’m the only one who knows how to help me. I know what is best for me.” I stated and walked away. What did she know anyway? She has no idea what I am going through.
Frank’s POV:
“You are Mr. Iero I presume?” Dr. Bryant asked shaking my hand.
“Yes, I am your intern for the next six months.” I smiled; Dr. Bryant nodded and began to show me around. From what I can see, the institution was fairly modern. I have seen some pretty
scary mental institutions and I can accurately say that this is one of the more cheery ones. Dr. Bryant and I walked through the dining hall and I saw all the patients. They were all dressed in powder blue uniforms, most of them were huddled in groups on the long, grey tables. However my eye automatically traveled to a young man who was sitting by himself at the end of one of the tables. His hair was dirty-blond and he had black glasses. He was not eating, but simply staring at his food. He looked up and caught my gaze; I quickly looked away and continued walking with Dr. Bryant.
After an hour I had been given the complete tour and was signing out. Dr. Bryant had just finished telling me that I would be able to sit in with one of his patient’s therapy sessions. A Mr. Michael Way, Dr. Bryant had given me his file so that way I wasn’t completely in the dark for the session tomorrow. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and walked out into the cold winter night. I drove home and quickly ran inside my small apartment.
I heated up some left-over pasta and settled down into my bed. I picked up the file Dr. Bryant had given me and opened it up. I recognized the picture in the file of that of the lonely boy at the dining hall today. He was only nineteen and had a long list of symptoms; Haphephobia, the fear of human contact, PTSD, and Borderline Personality Disorder. He was emitted only six months ago by his older brother. I flipped the page and saw a police report. However most of it was blacked-out. I was definitely confused, why would his file be blacked-out? That is when I saw the fine print at the bottom of the page, it read “For classified personal only”. I sighed; well most likely I would hear what happened to him tomorrow at the session. I placed the file on my nightstand and turned off the light.
Mikey’s POV:
“You worthless piece of shit! You are nothing! A no one!” He screamed as he landed another kick to my side. The air was forced from my lungs and I coughed up another mouthful of blood.
“Please…please stop. I-I’ll do anything.” I wheezed looking up at him. A smirk made its way across his lips. He kneeled down next to me a grabbed my face hard.
“Always such a little coward, you never could do anything right. But you want me to stop hitting you?” He asked; I nodded unable to form any words. “Fine, I’ll stop.”
I sighed, content with his answer. He grabbed my hair and forced me to stop. I screamed and he slapped me hard across the face. “Shut up! You make one more sound and I will kill you and
that worthless brother of yours. You understand?”
I nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. “Good,” He smiled and threw me on the dirty mattress on the floor. He flipped me over on my stomach and tied my hands together behind my back with his belt. He forced my pants down leaving long scratches on my legs. He played with the hem of my boxers. I shook my head violently, the tears freely falling down my cheeks. This couldn’t be happening; he wouldn’t do this to me.
He pulled down my boxers and I let out a loud sob. He slapped the back of my head and whispered harshly in my ear, “Remember what I told you. Not. A. Fucking. Sound.”
I heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down.
“Michael wake up!” I heard the voice of the nurse yelling at me. My eyes snapped open and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. Sweat made my shirt cling onto my back. Tears made my hair stick to my face.
I got out of bed, “Make them stop!” I screamed at the nurse, “I need them to stop!” The nurse is calling for help. Two men dressed in white run into the room and advance toward me. “No…stay away! Don’t come any closer!” I screamed.
I can hear the nurse telling the men not to touch me if at all possible. I start tearing at my hair, they can’t touch me. They have backed me in a corner, they are telling me to calm down. But I can’t. I’m screaming and lashing out at them. One of the men wraps his arms around me and now I am kicking and clawing. Trying to get him to let me go, “Please !” I sob, “Please let me go!” The other man is readying a syringe. I feel the needle break through my skin and almost instantly my limbs begin to feel heavy and my eyelids begin to fall. Everything goes black.
“Michael? Would you like to say anything?” I looked up to see my group therapist, Dr. Miller, staring at me. I shook my head, I heard her sigh and she spoke again, “Michael you’ve been coming here for six months; this is a safe environment you can say anything you want.”
“I have nothing to say,” I muttered, casting my gaze away from her. I had yet to talk about what had happened to me, the only people who knew here were Dr. Bryant and Dr. Miller, but that was only because it was in my file. I was afraid if I began to talk about it that I would finally break; that there would be no going back. Dr. Bryant kept telling me that the only way to start moving on was if I starting talking about it, that if I began to accept what happened to me that the nightmares would stop. But I didn’t want to accept it; I wanted to forget about it.
“Alright,” Dr. Miller stated, “You guys are dismissed…Michael can you stay for a moment please?” I nodded and watched as all the other people filed out the door and walked to the dining hall. I stood up and went up to Dr. Miller.
“Both Dr. Bryant and I agree that talking about what happened to you would be the best way to start the process of moving on.” She stated.
I rolled my eyes and sighed, “I don’t want to talk about it. I want to forget about it, I want to act like it never happened. I want my life back, like it was before everything. I’m not going to talk about it, not to you, not to Dr. Bryant, not to anyone. So you can tell Dr. Bryant that it is never going to happen, I just want to get out of here and put everything behind me.”
“You aren’t ready to leave yet, and you know that. If you were to leave we would prescribed multiple medications and I know that isn’t what you want. We are trying to help you Michael.” When I looked at Dr. Miller she looked like she meant it, but then again isn’t she paid to look like she cared?
“I’m the only one who knows how to help me. I know what is best for me.” I stated and walked away. What did she know anyway? She has no idea what I am going through.
Frank’s POV:
“You are Mr. Iero I presume?” Dr. Bryant asked shaking my hand.
“Yes, I am your intern for the next six months.” I smiled; Dr. Bryant nodded and began to show me around. From what I can see, the institution was fairly modern. I have seen some pretty
scary mental institutions and I can accurately say that this is one of the more cheery ones. Dr. Bryant and I walked through the dining hall and I saw all the patients. They were all dressed in powder blue uniforms, most of them were huddled in groups on the long, grey tables. However my eye automatically traveled to a young man who was sitting by himself at the end of one of the tables. His hair was dirty-blond and he had black glasses. He was not eating, but simply staring at his food. He looked up and caught my gaze; I quickly looked away and continued walking with Dr. Bryant.
After an hour I had been given the complete tour and was signing out. Dr. Bryant had just finished telling me that I would be able to sit in with one of his patient’s therapy sessions. A Mr. Michael Way, Dr. Bryant had given me his file so that way I wasn’t completely in the dark for the session tomorrow. I wrapped my scarf around my neck and walked out into the cold winter night. I drove home and quickly ran inside my small apartment.
I heated up some left-over pasta and settled down into my bed. I picked up the file Dr. Bryant had given me and opened it up. I recognized the picture in the file of that of the lonely boy at the dining hall today. He was only nineteen and had a long list of symptoms; Haphephobia, the fear of human contact, PTSD, and Borderline Personality Disorder. He was emitted only six months ago by his older brother. I flipped the page and saw a police report. However most of it was blacked-out. I was definitely confused, why would his file be blacked-out? That is when I saw the fine print at the bottom of the page, it read “For classified personal only”. I sighed; well most likely I would hear what happened to him tomorrow at the session. I placed the file on my nightstand and turned off the light.
Mikey’s POV:
“You worthless piece of shit! You are nothing! A no one!” He screamed as he landed another kick to my side. The air was forced from my lungs and I coughed up another mouthful of blood.
“Please…please stop. I-I’ll do anything.” I wheezed looking up at him. A smirk made its way across his lips. He kneeled down next to me a grabbed my face hard.
“Always such a little coward, you never could do anything right. But you want me to stop hitting you?” He asked; I nodded unable to form any words. “Fine, I’ll stop.”
I sighed, content with his answer. He grabbed my hair and forced me to stop. I screamed and he slapped me hard across the face. “Shut up! You make one more sound and I will kill you and
that worthless brother of yours. You understand?”
I nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from my eyes. “Good,” He smiled and threw me on the dirty mattress on the floor. He flipped me over on my stomach and tied my hands together behind my back with his belt. He forced my pants down leaving long scratches on my legs. He played with the hem of my boxers. I shook my head violently, the tears freely falling down my cheeks. This couldn’t be happening; he wouldn’t do this to me.
He pulled down my boxers and I let out a loud sob. He slapped the back of my head and whispered harshly in my ear, “Remember what I told you. Not. A. Fucking. Sound.”
I heard the sound of his zipper being pulled down.
“Michael wake up!” I heard the voice of the nurse yelling at me. My eyes snapped open and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. Sweat made my shirt cling onto my back. Tears made my hair stick to my face.
I got out of bed, “Make them stop!” I screamed at the nurse, “I need them to stop!” The nurse is calling for help. Two men dressed in white run into the room and advance toward me. “No…stay away! Don’t come any closer!” I screamed.
I can hear the nurse telling the men not to touch me if at all possible. I start tearing at my hair, they can’t touch me. They have backed me in a corner, they are telling me to calm down. But I can’t. I’m screaming and lashing out at them. One of the men wraps his arms around me and now I am kicking and clawing. Trying to get him to let me go, “Please !” I sob, “Please let me go!” The other man is readying a syringe. I feel the needle break through my skin and almost instantly my limbs begin to feel heavy and my eyelids begin to fall. Everything goes black.
Too cute. Sweet ending.
2/2/15