I really hate it here.
The room is sterile, cold. There's no stimulation, nothing that might affect my mental wellbeing too much. I'm accompanied everywhere I go, kept separate from other patients. I'm especially isolated today because I put another warden in the hospital. What do they expect, trying to force me to take those pills?
There's nothing wrong with me. Nothing. I tell myself this over and over again because I truly fear becoming insane. If anything is going to push me over the edge, it's this place.
I can hear other patients now and then, their wailing, sobbing. It makes my skin crawl. I stare at the pills in my hand, feeling on edge. I've been locked in this room for three days, and they won't let me out until of my own volition I take them. But I know what they do. They neutralise me, make me placid and compliant. I want my own mind.
But I also want to go outside. I want some air, instead of being trapped in this bo