Welcome, Welcome, and a word of Warning

Here at St Thomas' we try to give our patients the best care possible, but many of them have killed. They are in their teens but cannot be blamed for they are unstable in the head. They have a regulated timetable and have to sleep, eat and wake up at certain times. They are prisoners inside their own heads, kept in by the boundaries. But the patients don't like being force fed. They have feelings. You, the patients, will need to decide. Will you escape from this hell? Will there be a revolt? Will there be tears, screams, blood shed and murder and pain? You decide...

Can you hear the distant whispers like the leaves on a tree? Can you hear the singing? Those mournful cries? Ever singing... ever crying... murder's in the air tonight, better be ware, better make yourself invisible... murder's in the air tonight, and it's just waiting to get you. Better run, better lock your door... or else... death!
Behind these doors you will find tortured creatures,
Tortured in the mind
Look out look out
For their nature is not forgiving
Come darkness come night, souls bathed in black,
Look out look out...
Too late...

Rules



1. I tolerate no rulebreaking. All Mene rules apply here.
If you even as much as bend the rules set to you, you're gone. Away. Away away. I mean it.

2. This is a semi literate to literate roleplay. I want two paragraphs per post, minimum. Or one real big one. It has to be gripping stuff, don't make it boring.

3. I need a full Biography. You're character has killed and we want to know what mental illness they have and why they have it. Makes it easier to RP with.

4. Make it tense, and mysterious but don't say that your character killed fifteen people with one hit. This is meant to be a real life roleplay.

5. No killing. They may be attacking the carers but only do that as a last resort. My word as creator is law. When I say something, it is going to be done.

6. The OOC thread is http://www.menewsha.com/forum/commun...post1765194076

7. Pay attention to the stuff I wrote. I didn't write it so that you can ignore it or disregard it.
Just read everything carefully.

Profile Skeletons

These must be PM'd to me with the title 'I'm imprisoned in my own head.' Don't put formatting on. I'll do that, not to worry.

This marionette is called:  (Your name, full name and nickname if you wish it.)

I am the master:  (Your username.)

The years of my madness:  (Your age, and birthday.)

These are the voices in my head:  (What is wrong with you)

Can't you see that I'm a:  (Gender.)

My past, my veiled past:  (Your biography. I want to see some decent writing here. Two paragraphs minimum, and five maximum.)

The mirror image that I hate so:  (A real life picture. Not of you, find one somewhere.)

Who am I?:  (Personality. )

Things I'd die for:  (Stuff your like. Figures.)

Things I'd kill:  (Stuff you hate. )

What have I forgotten?:  (Anything extra. Tattoos, favorite foods or whatever.)

Inhabitants of St Thomas

Girls

This marionette is called: Penelope Jane Stone

I am the master: Pip

The years of my madness: 16, born on the second of March.

These are the voices in my head: Penelope has two voices in her head that tell her what to do. Pen and Penny. They can make her do things even if she doesn't want to, and she'll find herself breaking something without wanting to. She is bulimic and has Schizoaffective disorder and is highly dangerous at times due to psychosis and extreme paranoia. She is a split personality due to Pen and Penny.

Can't you see that I'm a: girl

My past, my veiled past: Penelope was often abused as a child. She was hit and sexually abused by her drunken father who would beat her from room to room while her mother would turn away. Her father would hit her mum too, and one day she was dead. Just like that. And the girl's childhood got worse from then on. She would have to bear the abuse day in day out. And one day when she was seven she couldn't take it anymore. Her father had his hands around her neck, choking her, and she fumbled for a knife and stabbed him over and over again. She got rid of the knife, and the police couldn't explain why such a sweet girl was standing over the corpse of her father, just staring down at him. That was when Penny and Pen were born.
'Accidents' like that seemed to happen to Penelope from time to time. Once, a boy was making fun of her and she stretched out her arms and her hands closed slowly around his neck. She could feel him struggling and went he went limp, she let go, turning away from the scene. Soon the people realised that Penelope was not normal. She was strange. Some tried to attack her, but instead the little girl was sent to an Asylum. And then to another one because she was too troublesome, ever guided by her guardian angels. She was never alone. Not even when she was in her cell wearing a straight jacket because she'd had another one of her deadly rages in which she'd attack herself and everything around her.

The mirror image that I hate so:

Who am I?: Sweet and shy when she isn't in her rage. But sometimes she is dangerous, scary and strange. Paranoid and often unsure until Penny or Pen tell her what to do. She doesn't like thinking for herself because she thinks she'll make bad things happen if she does. Sometimes she cries a lot because her guardian angels argue a lot, and they shout at each other in her head. That scares her.

Things I'd die for: Marshmallows, large meadows on a sunny day, sleeping as long as she wants, ice cream. She loves the smell of a garden after it has rained and she loves listening to the stormy weather or the whispering of the trees and the soft patter of rain against the glass.

Things I'd kill: The woods in which St Thomas' Asylum is, stupid jokes, her father and the food they give out on a Friday. It's mushy fish with mushy peas and mushy chips. Disgusting. She hates it when Pen and Penny argue, because they get so very loud.

What have I forgotten?: She has a tattoo on her left shoulder.

Originally Posted by robochicky

This marionette is called: Mickey Abarai

I am the master: robochicky

The years of my madness: 17, October Thirty-First

These are the voices in my head: Mickey suffers from schizophrenia, her seeing imagery of a self-murdered attacker from years ago. She claims to see an apparition of the deceased yet her parents immediately dismissed the idea and took her to a psychiatrist. In turn, he deemed her with the early stages of schizophrenia and admitted her to the St. Thomas Mental Institution.

Can't you see that I'm a: Female.

My past, my veiled past: Although being born into a pretty wealthy family, Mickey was loved dearly even though her parents were out at work almost every day. She managed to take care of herself, her not needing much help from hired maids and such. Of course, there were those days where she felt alone but shrugged it off nonetheless as her parents would spoil her once in a while. It wasn't long before Mickey grew on into school, her being the only kid with a rich family in pretty much all of her elementary school days. There, she wasn't that bad of a kid and made a good amount of friends despite that they were a bit weary of her unique status at first. After she finished elementary school, the girl went on to junior high where she was nearly judged by almost everyone (including the kids she grew up with) but instead made the best of it. She can't say that she liked junior high, cause then it'd be a lie and -this time -everyone knew it too. With those two years finished, Mickey entered high school and actually enjoyed the first year of it and even found a clique of her own. Of course, there was this one dude of the group who liked her too much and had these weird glares towards her; it slightly creeped the girl out. Mickey simply ignored the stares and went on with both her business and the school year.

Her sophomore year however turned out to be the worst for her. The dark-haired girl hadn't seen and/or heard of him from the group, them claiming that he moved onto another clique from then on (much to her relief). The end of the week rolled by and the girl's parents went out for a business meeting, leaving Mickey there alone at the good-sized house of theirs, the maids and such already gone to their homes. A surprise blackout caught the girl by surprise as she was downstairs watching television and before she could reach for a flashlight, she saw that creepy glare once again besides her with a knife. He cut the power box wires, which in turn affected the security and alarm system. With a yelp from the frightened one a fight broke out, resulting in the girl being beaten then raped -twice -before he left altogether. Mickey deemed him "Rape Eyes" after the brutal attack, only being able to see the creepy glare during that night.

The police wasn't able to find the rapist and so, Mickey did so herself a week later (her picking up the terrible habit of smoking that same week) and ended up killing him instead with the leftover knife that he left at the crime scene. She was admitted to the mental institution a month later on a count of her oncoming schizophrenia and paranoia that suggested that "Rape Eyes" was still out there.

The mirror image that I hate so: Mickey

Who am I?: Mickey can get feisty, which is true if you really piss her off. Other than that, she is pretty much laid-back. Especially in these times, she'll try to cheer as many people up as she can without sounding too crazy. In fact, she isn't seen as crazy to anyone minus the caretakers of course and pretty much has an independent attitude. Aside from all that, she gets along with females better than with males. If a female caretaker is nearby though, she can tolerate both sexes if need be.

Things I'd die for: Ice cream, cigarettes, puppies, freedom out of this institute

Things I'd kill: Sometimes males, spiders, apparitions (although intangible)

What have I forgotten?: She sometimes sleepwalks.

Originally Posted by Couture_myass

Sky Ciele

I am the master: Couture_myass

The years of my madness: 16, 11th october

These are the voices in my head: It is very hard to tell with Sky. You would think she is a completely normal, sane person. But she is an implosive person. She hallucinates and gets paranoid.

Can't you see that I'm a: Female

My past, my veiled past: Sky lived with her mother all her life. It was just the two of them in a cottage together, the happiest years of Sky's life. Sky remembered when she was five her mother let her dye her hair pink. When she had to enrol in highschool, Sky had to leave her mother. The idea of it destroyed her. Her mother insisted she go and continue her education as the cottage was too far from the highschool. That is what Sky did, living on campus with strangers and working in a supermarket for money.

The people at school were horrible to her for a reason she didn't know. They would say vulgar things and grope her.

Sky's mother taught her manners and all the virtues. She had never met people who could be so rude. Every day when she would work, someone was always shouting at her because she wouldn't accept their coupons. Every single day. However, she took it all with a smile - until one day she just couldn't hack it. While that man was shouting out her she got out her biro and stabbed his eyes and cut out his tongue.

Once in a while she would suddenly hear shouting. Someone screaming at her, tearing her head apart. She never saw moving lips, only shouting. She would kill any living thing that could make such a noise.

The shouting might come back maybe next month, next year, in the next decade. Sky never knew.

The mirror image that I hate so: http://ira-pussycat.deviantart.com/a...ower-113860120

Who am I?: She is very sweet, maybe too sweet. She can be preppy and hyper. You could never tell that she was insane. She loved to laugh and hug. She could be quite intimate without knowing and a bit too intrusive. You could tell that she was sensitive and quite naive and gullible. She loved to talk but most of all she hated silence. Silence brought back the shouting.

Things I'd die for: Bright stuff, talking, lollipops, sweets classical music.

Things I'd kill: People shouting, being rude. Violence.

What have I forgotten?: She has whip marks across her back.

Originally Posted by Brinababy

This marionette is called: Chanel

I am the master: Brinababy

The years of my madness: 17, thirteenth of January

These are the voices in my head: Chanel suffers from severe depression, and schizophrenia, she tends to talk to herself and "Leena", yet no one seems to know who "Leena" is.

Can't you see that I'm a: Female

My past, my veiled past: Chanel had a very pleasant first six years of her life, a loving family, her own room, and plenty of dolls she could play with. Three days after her sixth birthday her mother told her she was going to have a new brother or sister. Chanel wasn't very pleased with the news, but accepted it and started treating her dolls as she would treat her new baby sibling, when they arrived. When her mom went to the hospital a little more than eight months later, the family was filled with excitement and anticipation for the new baby. When Chanel was introduced to her new baby brother William, she was excited and happy to be a big sister. Three months later however tragedy struck, William died of SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome) one evening, and the perfect family fell apart. Chanel's father developed a drinking problem, her mother would cry all throughout the night. Many sleepless nights followed the full family.

One evening on his way home from work Chanels father fell asleep at the wheel. He hit a pole and died instantly. When Chanel and her mother got a call from the police they already knew what had happened.

A few years passed in odd silence, the family that once had been so close now seemed like a strange dream that couldn't possibly be from the past. Chanels mother had worn herself thin, and only ate when Chanel would remind her to. Chanel turned to her dolls for company, but soon found that all her problems had been rooted with the dolls. Her brother had died the night she got a new doll, her father died the day after Leena had come to live in her room, and now her mother had given up on life and had turned into just as much of a doll as the ones Chanel played with. Lifeless, emotionless, and holding no resistance to the puppet master.

On her sixteenth birthday, Chanel came home from school, to find her house surrounded by police vehicles and paramedics, Chanel didn't have to ask, to know what had happened inside the house. Her mother was gone, like the rest of her family. No pity found Chanel however, she was alone, no dolls left to keep her company while the world fell apart before her very eyes. When she asked the police if Leena was alive, they looked confused and asked if Chanel was alright. They claimed there was no "Leena" in the house and suggested she see a doctor. Upon their suggestion Chanel agreed and when the nearest police officer went to put his arm around her to guide her towards the ambulance, she grabbed his hand gun and promptly shot him, before shouting profanities at all the officers, and finally throwing the gun at one of them.

Her outburst earned her a prompt transport to the Institute, where she has lived ever since.

The mirror image that I hate so: Chanel

Who am I?: Chanel is often shy with strangers, and doesn't trust anyone with a doll like appearance. She likes to make friends, with people her age, but adults don't seem to understand her. She smiles when Leena is around or when there are boys present, but finds little patience for the odd looks that adults cast in her direction.

Things I'd die for: Music, thunderstorms, rabbits, small animals

Things I'd kill: Dolls, fire, alcohol

What have I forgotten?: She sings in the night to "Leena" before tucking her into the extra bed in her room.

Boys

Originally Posted by Cows Go Moo

This marionette is called: Jason Sutherland

I am the master: Cows Go Moo

The years of my madness: 17, Born on October 29th

These are the voices in my head: Jason was diagnosed a sociopath with APD or antisocial personality disorder. Exhibiting symptoms of total disregard for social norms as well as a lack of remorse for his actions, Jason has the inability to empathize with others and consistently displays poor behavioral control. Often, he is cruel and deceitful to people he meets, even manipulating them sometimes.

Can't you see that I'm a: Male

My past, my veiled past: Jason was four weeks premature to a negligent mother and an unfaithful father. With his father never home, his mother never tended to her son aside from keeping him fed and instead tended to herself either by leaving the house or by drinking and watching television. In his childhood he had never even gotten a kiss or a hug. Perhaps that was when his first symptoms of sociopathy showed up.

When he went with his third grade barbecue he had lied saying he was going to the bathroom, but had actually walked to a birdbath (they were at a park) and grasped one of the birds, drowning it despite the protest. He was found out by one of the chaperons, being sent home and a note telling him to meet with the school psychologist. Unfortunately, this didn't help any as Jason had lied his way through, getting out of any other psychological intervention.

Still, he was what he was. The older he was, the more symptoms he showed including charges of assault, the inability to make friends, cruelty to animals, and the development of an addiction of smoking. When he became twelve, he was taken custody by his father when he divorced and remarried, earning even more of Jason's ire. It was only with the power of money that Jason stayed out of jail as long as he had despite all of his run ins with the law. When he became sixteen, his time had run out. It was the anniversary of his father's new marriage and Jason had run out of smokes. So what his idea of what to do? He was drunk at the time and apparently when his father came in the house, he was attacked by Jason in drunken rage, ending up beaten to death.

Because of this, he was admitted into the Asylum where he would be fighting tooth and nail against pretty much any authority figures around with a lighter or a cigarette. He really needed his smokes.

The mirror image that I hate so: [Jason]

Who am I?: Jason is quite the nonconformist in the most true definition of the word, never conforming to any cliques in his time in school and generally responding with apathy to groups, that is unless angered. With poor impulse control, he will go off either verbally or physically at where his anger is directed, showing no regard to whether or not the person is hurt, but only if he is satisfied with the results. Since he had been cut off from smoking he has been even more irritable and easily agitated than before.

Things I'd die for: Smokes, Tequila, Leaving the institute

Things I'd kill: Most animals, Children, Annoying people

What have I forgotten?: His IQ was tested as above average.

Originally Posted by Saro

This marionette is called: Sasha A. Rosen.

I am the master: Saro

The years of my madness: 16, born on the 13th of the Eleventh moon.

These are the voices in my head: Depression, partly due to his upbringing. Gender identity disorder, mostly thanks to Alexis and the hatred she causes. Mild dyspraxia. As well as Dissociative identity disorder.

Can't you see that I'm a: Boy ..Girl Really Liar..

My past, my veiled past: Sasha was born into a fairly wealthy family. Both of his parents had broken family tradition, and eloped. His kind motherRussian-born, Yelena, Christianized to "Helen" once she and her husband immigrated to the United States. and his stern father German-born, Wilhelm, changed to 'William." were both overjoyed that their first born was a son. Sasha was an average child, though a bit quiet. His mother cared for him greatly. His father, however, wanted a prodigy. In Sasha's forth summer, on the 30th of June, his sister, Theresa, was born into this world.

His father's disappointment would later be found irrelevant. She was a natural learner, confident and clever, even as a toddler. As she grew older she proved to be a genius in academics and music. She was, mostly, everything their father had wanted. Sasha was pushed aside. His mother knew this, and though she loved her son, knew she couldn't do much about it. She loved her brilliant daughter greatly, but Sasha was her first and favorite. Alexis bloomed in his mind. She yelled, she cried, she suggested, she took over whenever she pleased. Sasha fought her when he could, but usually couldn’t. Alexis would speak out, Sasha was punished. His father would hit him. Alexis became more infuriated toward William. Alexis cared for what seemed to be nothing. She planned her revenge.

Theresa would give Sasha piano lessons. He loved music, and dreamed of being nearly as good as his younger sister. They both loved eah other and hardly ever fought. Sasha knew his place. Theresa hated that it was this way, and begged her father to accept Sasha. He didn’t care or listen. Alexis became more bold with her words and actions. Sasha was hit harder.

Alexis had been thinking and scheming, she only had to wait for the moment to strike. She had a revelation.”What does William prize more than himself..?” she chuckled. Her plan was complete. Fate was sealed.

One chilly day, in October, Theresa was practicing on the piano. Sasha was listening in the room. The door was locked. Alexis took over… She grabbed a music stand, held it up, and struck down until the deed was done. Then she went back away. Sasha open his eyes wide to the horrific scene before him. His sister, beaten and bloody at the piano keys. He was standing right by her, holding up the stand. “No.. No.. Why?!” he cried out. His parents ran toward the sounds they heard. They begged him to open the door. He couldn’t move. They broke the door open. His mother cried, his father attacks him. Helen takes her daughter away from the piano, then pulls her husband away from Sasha. Neither of them believe him. Sasha cries and mourns his sister. His parents call the police, and Sasha is taken away. He is in shock, he refuses to even think he did it. Yet, Alexis, his anger, his hatred, and his rage, explains to him. “ It was necessary to destroy that man.” Since Alexis joined him in his mind, he’d begin to hate himself, hate her. Confusion never ceased to whirl around his psyce. What was wrong with him? Why did he have this? Why did he act this way?
Sasha is deemed mentally insane, and is sent away..

The mirror image that I hate so:


Who am I?: Sasha is a liar. ..I am Alexis calm and kind, though often depressed. He enjoys playing peacemaker, and is confused s to why he is here, sometimes. Other times, he remembers what he haswhat I have) done. He loves to read and speaks very well. He loves languages and learning, when he's not depressed.

Things I'd die for: My darling mother.. my dear sister, if I only could.. Books, a means to escape. Erosion of memories. To change the past.. To escape this pitiful mind..

Things I'd kill: My neglectful father, abusers your sister was only for vengeance..Alexis.I’d kill you to darling..

What have I forgotten?: Sasha has a few scars from his father’s attacks. One runs along his right temple for about 2 inches. He hides it under his dark hair. William was left-handed.
Sasha tries to dress nicely. He is sometimes slow with doing things due to his dyspraxia.
Die Lied, The Song, “Klavier – Rammstein”

White List
Nice people go here.


Black List

HaraMarcheo, for disregarding two rules about profiles.

Open!

Penelope opened her dreamy eyes. Pen and Penny were quiet today, and she basked in the bliss of the morning silence. That was until the carers came. She decided to get up before they forced out of her bed. She said bed, but it was more of a hospital cot. She wore a long cotton white night gown which tickled her ankles and made her look like a ghost. She took an antique-looking brush and ran it through her cropped hair. Two carers came in, and helped her gently to the bathroom which was in the corridor outside her room. The corridor looked grimy and shabby, but it was immaculate. She always counted the cracks in the wall and the floor but when she reached one, she always got scared and stopped. Pen and Penny would then calm her down and tell her to get ready. Today was no different. 1... 2.... 3.... and so on until. 51... 52... 5-.... Always the same thing, and she always got scared. Always. She breathed deeply and cooled herself down. No need for that, she always told herself.

The carers pretty much shoved her into the grey-white bathroom and slammed the door shut. She pouted, but was used to this dreadful treatment. Pen woke up slowly, and then woke up his counterpart Penny. Penelope smiled into the mirror at her imaginary guardians. Under the mirror was a wash basin with a bar of soap sitting on the edge. She washed herself and slipped into her clothes, which had been brought here by the carers. They were letting her on a longish leash because she had been behaving well. Penelope wished to tell them that it was Pen and Penny who were behaving well, but they'd just reel in that leash and there goes a bit of freedom. She hummed tonelessly to herself and rubbed her face dry on her warm jumper.

Penelope wound up wearing a summery dress with faded colours. A policeman had bought it for her, many years ago, but it had been much too long. But now it fit. It flaired out when she moved, and she would scream in rage when anyone as much suggested that it should be thrown out. Her outfit also included a pair of black leggins and a jumper, because it was never warm. She had to wear slippers, plain ones, to show that she was a patient. As if people needed to know! If they looked into her eyes, they could tell that she was mad. Loony. Loony Penelope in Loony Bin. She giggled at that and then opened the bathroom door. The carer with the nose ring stood there, almost two meters tall, and next to him the carer that looked like a potato. They took her arms, Mr Two Meters taking her left and Potato Man taking the other one. Like that they walked down the corridor, with Penelope as quiet as a mouse. She was laughing at the two on the inside. Weirdest thing was, that the two were brothers. It was insanely funny, she found as they never talked. A sympathetic carer had told the three that. That is, Penelope, Pen and Penny.

There was no organic sunlight nor even a soft melody to wake up to. Perhaps it was best that way, for if it were the melody of a bird the sociopathic boy might have tried to grab it and snap its neck. Jason hated birds so as much as he hated the sounds they made. But luckily, the brown haired boy woke up on his own accord, his eyes slightly closed because of the harsh contrast of the single light in his room. He made a motion to throw something nonexistent at it, closing his dark brown eyes for a moment and then opening them so that they would be adjusted to the light.

He decided to get out of bed, not wanting to be forced out by whoever happened to be trying to "help" him. His teeth grit at the thought. Sitting up, he eyed the door that led to his padded room/cell as he expected for someone or two someones to come in. He didn't have any indication of time nor date which made minutes feel like hours and hours like an eternity. He stared down at his current pair of clothes, a white pair of pants and equally white t-shirt without an ounce of personality. It was a perfect match for a place like this.

Several people this time, came in to show him to the bathroom: two general caretakers and an imposing man who seemed like he could snap one's neck like a toothpick. He was obviously Jason specific. After being shown to the bathroom he was pretty much tossed and shut in, told to get ready as per usual. He snarled and punched the door, receiving a warning shout in return. He reduced himself to just letting out some angry breaths and going to shower. He ran a hand through his hair and turned on the shower head, grabbing the bar of soap and getting to cleaning himself.

What I wouldn't give for a cigarette, he thought with disdain towards the asylum. He could never go cold turkey and well, this was just painful. After drying off, he chose to wear something that might have made him look clean-cut and not at all like a sociopathic murderer. A nice argyle sweater vest with a pair of black slacks, fitting for someone who would have once been a good person, but maybe not for Jason. Between his murderous looks and a rather irritable personality, he would be the epitome of not judging a book by its cover. When he came out he was greeted by the three via having the first two manhandle him by keeping his arms at bay and the muscular man behind him, as backup. He was quiet, but secretly, the thoughts of killing the two were running rampant in his mind.

As they frogmarched Penelope into the canteen she saw that other boy on his way. She was pushed into a plain plastic seat and a bowl that contained a half mush which consisted of scrambled egg and toast. She sniffed it gingerly and then turned angrily to Pen who had laughed. "It's not going to be poisoned, silly! That would make them murderers too, and then they'd have to be locked up! And anyway's, nothing can hurt you when we're here." Penelope had never seen Pen before but she always imagined him as tall with honey brown curly hair and kind but cynical ice blue eyes. In her inner eye he was the laidback one. But just as brutal as his sister. When he said those words, the girl scowled. "You're lying to me again! You said that when I attacked Frenchy and then the guards broke my arm!" She felt betrayed and angered. Pen raised his eyebro ws. "Watch what you're saying, Penelope. Who is the nasty liar here?" She slammed her fist down on the table, and almost instantly half a dozen carers and nurses were around her, holding her down. She felt her head being pressed against the table and saw out of the corner of her eye how Pen was grinning until an enraged Penny hit him on the shoulder. "What you go do that for, idiot? You don't do that!" Penelope sighed as the carers glared at her and then carefully let her go, but not straying too far away from her. She chewed slowly on her breakfast, not paying attention to the cruel stares which she got from her supervisors. She sang softly, under her breath evidently not fazed by the filling canteen. She now also ignored Pen, until he would apologise.

Penelope drank some of the luke warm and greyish tea. It was caffine free and was disgusting, but with Penelope's imagination it did the trick. She ate politely and carefully and refused to gobble it down and look insane while doing so. They were after all in company, and Penelope somehow never managed to be rude to someone who wasn't rude to her. And she thought that it was rude to the food to eat it without thoroughly enjoying it, even if it was disgusting. She always had conversation with her toast in her had, and that proved exactly how insane she was. Today they were talking about economy and racism. 'No, I have to disagree. Everything is plummetting and people are starving. I suppose that you are right, Mr Toasty.' And so the conversations would go on and on.

Sky smiled as she opened her eyes. The room was filled with an amber light which wasn't much but it still brightened her morning.

Sky jumped out of bed, stretching her arms up and wriggling her toes. She yelled at the top of her voice, 'GOOD MORNING, EVERYONE! WHAT A BEAUTIFUL START TO THE DAY!' She couldn't stop giggling as the two carers came into the room. They put a hand on Sky's back as she skipped to the bathroom. Sky looked at the mirror, frowning slightly but not daring to wipe the smile off her face. 'Now, now, what would momma say? Momma says always to smile!' Sky washed her face and put on a bright yellow dress.

She walked into the canteen with a spring in her step. When people looked up from their breakfast she caught their gaze and gave them a massive smile. She took a bowl of food, unaware of the contents and sat at an empty table. She swung her feet as she played with her food. She looked at the little fork, obviously quite blunt. Sky's eyes narrowed but she continued to smile, her cheek muscles slightly aching already.

Jason was ushered to the canteen, sat down at a random table with his breakfast. This was, as usual, eggs with a piece of toast. But they wouldn't let him use proper utensils and instead a plastic fork and spoon. They were smart not to give him a knife whether or it was plastic or not. Still, with a fork he could do so much. He stabbed his plastic implement in the eggs, swallowing them down without any difficulty. The texture was rubbery and the dish itself was rather tasteless, forcing him to push away the dish and fling the fork away.

Two carers came closer to him, though made no move to hurt him, yet. He knew that he was earning the ire of the nurses and caretakers but he didn't care. The girl flashing smiles and acting like every was sunshine and rainbows was earning his. He chose to turn away from her and instead concentrate on other issues. Now he had no food nor anything to play with. If only he had a pencil to twirl around, but no that would be "dangerous". They'd probably think he'd turn it into a shiv. He laughed darkly. Who was the crazy one here?

Penelope had finished her conversation with Mr Toasty, and moved on to drinking her tea in absolute silence. When the yell came, Penelope frowned. Someone called, "Keep it down! We're not in a loony bin, after all!" Penelope scoffed again, annoyed at the loud noise. When the noise maker came in, and played with her food she glanced meaningfully at Penny who rolled her eyes and nodded in agreement. She traced her finger over her tattoo, obviously deep in thought. Then she picked up her tray, the food was untouched aside from the toast and put it next to the boy. "Eat. Mine is better." She said simply, without a word of hello. She glanced at the surrounding carers that were beginning to look worried. She had heard that this boy was dangerous. But so was Penelope. She watched as the boy thought. It was like he was going to kill someone, and Penelope knew that feeling. She had killed before, no doubt, and she knew what it felt like to want to kill someone.

Violent thoughts no doubt. "Well go on then, say hello to him! Manners, remember Penelope! Manners!" Penny spoke to her, and Penelope nodded. She brushed her hair behind her ear and sat down on the table next to the strange boy. Well, they were all strange here. She fumbled with her slender hands and kept looking to the boy. He looked perfectly fine on his own, maybe even bored... Penelope sighed quietly and shook her pretty head.

Jason looked over to see a blond haired girl walk over with her tray of food. Great, more people. He was aware of others in the canteen, but he figured that they would keep to themselves though. But she didn't. He nodded at her, taking the utensil that lay on her tray and cautiously digging into the eggs. As hateful towards things as he was, he was starting to get hungry. He muttered a "thanks" to her. He wondered what exactly she was in the asylum for, not having seen or heard the earlier outburst. Everyone was crazy here, sure, but the degree of craziness was pretty varied.

He stopped eating for a second, feeling the girl's gaze upon him and glancing over before shrugging at turning back to her, now his, food. Maybe he ought to say something else to her. Well he didn't have to, but what else was there to do? He supposed that as long as she didn't try to annoy him that it would be alright whether or not a conversation ensued.

Sky poured the grey, sloppy scrambled eggs onto her cardboard toast. She looked at the fork again, slightly hesitant. She widened her smile once again, trying to cut a piece of toast with her blunt fork. Failing at this attempt, Sky began to panic. 'Oh no, momma would say not to be silly. She would say to just eat my breakfast.'
Sky's breath began to quicken and her heart beat began to pick up speed. The fork wasn't having any effect on the toast. Sky began to hyperventilate.
'WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS? WHAT'S WRONG WITH MY BREAKFAST?!' Sky was stabbing at the toast. She didn't realised that she had already broken the fork and was now bashing her fist against the plate. 'WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS? MOMMA, HELP ME!' Sky was screaming at the top of her voice, her eyes darting across the room, trying to search for her momma.
She didn't realise she was already crouched onto of the table, hammering her fists into the plastic plate. Tears were streaming down her face, and before she could say anything, the carers were dragging her away, scrambled eggs and mashed up toast all over her arms and dress.

The attack was far from over, him pinned on top of her with all of his weight. The young girl could only struggle against him, but it was fruitless as this would only anger him even more. It was to the point where he pinned her arms over her head and had the sharp blade of a knife to her neck as he continued to assault her. She could only look away in both embarrassment and disgust before it was over, him about to finish her off with a blow from his knife. The girl could only watch in horror as he lifted the blade and brought it down over her tattered, used body -

Mickey's eyes immediately opened from her reoccurring nightmare -the fourth time this week -her panting against her pillow as she couldn't bother moving from her position in bed. The caretakers had succeeded in waking her, the sharp jab from a wooden pole resembling that of the knife from her all-too-real dream, pretty much attacking her side. She could only glare as the caretakers were merely men... The nerve of them... the girl could only think, her getting up nonetheless.

She shooed them off, for her to get dressed of course, but also for a time to reflect upon the newest and yet oldest dream this week. Staring at herself in the mirror, Mickey could only wipe the thin residue of sweat from her forehead with a cool towel before preforming her normal morning tasks. Of course, she struggled with downing the meds that were supplied for her on the bathroom counter. The girl figured she would be able to down it at breakfast. Which reminded her, how much did she over sleep?

With a shrug, Mickey walked back over to her bed where her thoroughly-checked suitcase was laid under. She dug that out and proceeded to pull out a pair of skinny jeans, a striped tank top, along with the one pair of converse she was allowed to wear around the place. Mickey only sighed at how strict they were at this place...

They normally gave her twenty minutes to dress and such, them knowing how the "schizophrenic" would get about privacy. This time, they returned back with five minutes to spare and demanded her to hurry up in order to make breakfast. Reluctantly, Mickey nodded and led the way to the cafeteria.

The girl was (un)lucky enough to catch another patient be dragged off from the place, an assortment of foods all over her clothes. Poor thing, I'd be screaming if a bunch of guys were dragging me off, too.. Mickey silently sympathized, her wanting anything but to upset her male caretakers. If anything, she wondered if they had cigarettes on them. With a sigh, she walked into the cafeteria where she was met with cooled down eggs, soggy toast, and a dixie cup full of water for her medicine. Taking a place at a cleaned off table, Mickey began to devour her meal as she surveyed the room.

Penelope nodded in acceptance of the thank you and looked the slightest bit happier. Penny nudged her with a smile. "Well done. Now, I think he can be a little... harsh, so wait to see if he commends a conversation." She looked at the girl with a smile. Pen nodded, still sulking from the outburst. Whenever Penelope imagined Penny, her guardian angel had long honey blonde hair and fire red eyes. But not scary. No, never scary. Just slightly edgy, one might say. Or mad. Penelope hummed under her breath, waiting patiently. That was one of her strong suits, one might say. She kept pushing a single strand of hair behind her ear, but it kept springing back. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Pen chuckled and she tensed so he instantly stopped. "You know, I am sorry about calling you a liar, Penelope." He said quietly and Penelope rolled her eyes and continued fiddling with her hair. She smiled slightly and Pen knew he was forgiven.

Penny patted the young patient encouragingly on the back. Penelope watched the girl being dragged away. She watched with nervous eyes, but the carers tried to put on reassuring faces. It was like a lion telling a mouse that it wouldn't get eaten, but the girl nodded. She would keep her self control until she was alone. And then she would attack everything in reach. She smiled sadly to herself and twiddled her thumbs. No really, she was actually twiddling her thumbs and stopped occasionally to drink a sip of grey tea.

Sky was thrown into her room and injected with some vile green ooze to probably calm her down. The carers ripped off her clothes and put on a plain white shirt and trousers. They put Sky in a straight jacket and slammed the steel door shut.

Sky's breathing had began to even and her mind began to clear. 'Oh no, not again,' Sky said aloud, trying to smile again. 'How silly of me. Momma would be very disappointed that I let this happen again. Silly old me.' The tears still fell. Sky was staring out the 5-inch by 5inch plastic window of the steel door. The silence in the room seemed to scream at Sky.

'Hello, is anybody out there? I apologise for my actions! I would like to have some breakfast now, please! Hello?" Sky was calling out to anyone who could possibly hear her. The silence was deafening. She was petrified that the shouting would come back. 'Hello? Anyone?' Sky's calls withered down to whispers. Her lips were trembling as she struggled in the straight jacket. Her pink hair hung limp around her shoulders and back. Sky crouched down on the floor and huddled into a corner of the room. She began to sing a lullaby that her mother would always sing when it was a stormy night at the cottage.

((( look alive people )))

((Please post! D : ))

A carer unlocked the steel door and held Sky by the shoulders and walked slowly back into the canteen for breakfast. Sky still had a smile on her face but it was slightly wavering. She still looked around the room, smiling at anyone who she made eye contact with.
Sky still had the straight jacket on but she felt more relaxed rather than inhibited. She saw that blonde girl with short hair, sitting with a boy. Instantly, she gave her a smile. The carer made her sit down at an empty table next to he blonde girl and she spoon fed her some grey sludge, probably porridge. When the bowl was emptied the carer left Sky alone at the table. She had her eyes fixed on the blonde girl.

Sasha looked through the car window up at the large, old, building. Sad eyes, wide open, occasionally a sleepy, tired, expression. He traced the vines along the side with his eyes. It was a gray, cloud coated sky, about to rain, type of day. He noticed the sign, “St.Thomas’ Mental Institute.” Closed eyes, mind remembering the trial. “It... wasn’t… me...” he whispered, slow and deliberate.
He tried to move his arms, held tight in the rough white jacket. “I won’t fight.” he pleaded. He’d had it on for nearly two days now. Sasha turned his head toward the police officer who walked through the heavy door of the institute. Following him were two people. Bored yet alert faces. They escorted him into the building. “Welcome to your new home.” He was brought to a small room with a bed. The door locked behind him.
Sasha asked at the door if his jacket could be removed, but no one came. No one answered... He curled up on the bare, cold bed and drifted into a fragmented sleep.
He looked around the room, there was blood everywhere, on the striped wallpaper, on the floor, on his hands, it had run down the music stand, on the piano... There she was, but she was gone.
He awoke sweating, his hands in fists. “No more of this, it’s not real...” This had been happening most of the night. Horrid quick dreams, waking to depression and whispers. Her whispers. They seemed to quiet when he was calm. When he was alone, or not alone. It didn’t matter usually. She came and went as she pleased. Mocking people, screaming, cursing, fighting… This damn jacket was her fault. She rarely caused him physical pain, but almost always emotional and mental pain. But, for now, he was alone. He didn’t want to think. There was a dim light from the window. It was early morning. He wondered,
“What is this place going to be like?”

Penelope sighed to herself, perfectly happy. Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement, and saw the carer feeding Miss Noisy. She could feel that the girl was staring at her, and when the carer was gone she turned to the girl and caught her eye. Feeling a little weirded out, Penelope took another sip of grey tea and then set it down. She opened her mouth to say something and then thought differently of it and closed her mouth and simply stared at the girl with the pink hair. She cleared her throat and continued to stare at the girl. "Why are you staring at me?" She finally asked quietly. It was making her nervous, and boy did she dislike being nervous. Everytime she felt nervous it made her remember her childhood, and that never ended well. Penelope shook her head to get rid of the thought and then took another sip of tea. Her hands were shaking slightly, and she tried to mask that by brushing her light blond hair back.
Pen and Penny waited quietly, but Pen was having his difficulties. He had to bite his fist in a bad attempt not to laugh, and Penny had noticed, and hit him on the shoulder. He shut up for a while, but he looked very amused the whole time. He whistled a merry tune and Penny shot murderous glares at him. The usual.



((Writer's block. Can't think. ))

Sky felt elated that the blonde girl had acknowledged her. She got off her chair and skipped towards the one next to the blonde girl. Sky gave her a smile that reached her ears and exhibited her small, pearly white teeth. 'Hello there! How are you today? What a beautiful morning!'
Sky couldn't stop staring at the girl's hair. It was pretty and bright and made Sky feel all sparkly inside. The carers were watching Sky but they weren't too worried about her. Sky bounced up and down on her seat, the rush of excitement and the thought of a new friendship made her feel so energetic. 'What a beautiful morning!' Sky repeated again.
It was unfortunate that Sky no longer had the mental capacity as one of her age. She suffered so much from her mental breakdown that now her mind only reverted back to the happy times. This was when Sky was a child living with her mother. Sky still felt and thought like a child.

Penelope was taken aback by the girl's childishness. She smiled awkwardly. "Hi to you too. I'm Penelope. Don't call me Pen or Penny, because that is not my name." She said with a smile. But it didn't reach her eyes. Now, Penelope knew that children didn't pay attention to the eyes until a certain stage of mental capacity and that children paid attention to the mouth. "I think a storm is coming up." She said thoughtfully and looked to the side, where a row of grimy windows were in the wall. Her mind seemed to take advantage of the situtation and flew off, showing her the past that she had tried so hard to escape. The past that haunted her in her dreams and her living days. Those memories that made her shake as she relived them.
'Daddy, stop!' The pained scream. Her mother turning away as her father beat her from room to room. The taste of blood in her mouth. Her vision blurring, and her shaking hands covered in crimson blood. 'Mummy, help me! Please! Oh God, help me!' And as her mum closed the door on her, that was when she realised that she actually might be invisible to her mother. That is when little Penelope gave up hope, and stopped fighting back. That was when her soul broke.
Penelope woke from her trance and smiled at the childish girl. She was shaking even more now, but tried to make it look like nothing was wrong. "What's your name?" She finally asked after a few awkward seconds. She smiled warmly, or tried to at least. Taking a few shaky breaths, she pushed her hair back again.

Along the ocean, watching the waves crash dangerously close to their feet, Chanel and Leena skipped. Laughing and enjoying every moment until the voices came and told Chanel to turn back, but Leena skipped on so sure of where she was headed. Dark clouds formed and the policeman from years ago forced Leena into the sea, while Chanel was held back by his fellow officers. "LEENAAA" Chanel screamed, and tried to shove the officers off her, but it was no use. She watched her friend struggle and slowly lose the fight.

Chanel woke from the pitiful dream, and quietly got out of bed. She headed to the second bed in the room to check on Leena, who was sound asleep. Leena was the lucky one, the carers never seemed to mind her, she was never manhandled around, and got to walk the halls freely. Chanel on the other hand was a prisoner here in the Institute, forced around constantly, and only left alone when she was locked away in her room.

As for this morning, everything went as they always had, two carers came in dragged her from the bed, shoved her into a closet sized bathroom, and waited as she got ready.

Chanel found that the days were repetitive and tiresome, yet she couldn't let that get to her. Leena joined her in the bathroom, and started to pick out what Chanel should wear that day, humming to keep them from being in complete silence. "Black or red?" Leena asked in a honey sweet voice, that Chanel had found to be one of the few comforts in this hell hole. As Chanel looked at Leena for a moment, then she grabbed the black t-shirt and the blue jeans that Leena had already put aside, and slid on the hospital slippers. Once out of the bathroom the carers escorted Chanel to the canteen, while Leena danced on ahead of them. Finally reaching the canteen the carers guided her to a table while Leena waltzed away to find something fun to do.

Left alone at the table, Chanel couldn't help but sigh and look around. Most days the canteen was quiet and everyone was to themselves, today was stangely different. A boy and two girls sat together, something that she had never seen while in the Institute. The carers seemed particularly cautious of the group, and hovered nearby, but still they allowed the group to be together.
"How odd..." she thought, and turned to the carer that had just returned with her lousy breakfast, cold slop mixed with more cold slop, and a special side of cardboard, how absolutely delightful! Chanel sensed the carer, watching her as she stared down at the food, and decided it was best to at least play with it and show an effort to eat.