My story

I was admitted into the clinic feb 17th, 2004. It was one of the darkest times of my life and i had had been dealing with psychotic depression for years. i was 21 at the time.

After leaving my parents, i got escorted to my room. A bit shabby, but nothing too bad. I had been in hospitals like this before.

Then i was called for a meeting, as they said. With a "psychiatrist".

I was asked so many uncomfortable questions about my mental health and especially about my attempts at suicide. I told him to fuck off and tried to get out but the door was locked, so i had no choice. He wrote something down and I was finally allowed to go.

Getting to the socializing patio, something stuck me as being very weird. Everyone looked like they were in uniforms or something. Either black tops and red shorts or red shorts and white tops....There were small children mixed with maybe people in their early 30s at oldest. Something was really, really off and i got more and more of a weird feeling in my guts.

I asked about the uniforms to a staff and was told it would be explained shortly, and that i would get one too. Oh, hell no. I wasn't going to indulge in whatever bizarre standards they had going on, i thought.

Little did i know that was the least bizarre thing about the place.

The next day i got a uniform set delieved at my door. Black top and red shorts. Didn't touch it and went outside. When staff saw i didn't have the uniform, they started flipping the fuck out. They held me down and locked me back inside my room, shouting that "ain't no way you're leaving that room until you have that on." fucking bastards! i tried standing my ground and staying in my room at first, but then i noticed.....they weren't bringing me any water or food. they just looked in to check if i had in on yet, but nothing. i spent almost the whole day there but i was so so thristy i gave in and put on the stupid uniform and they finally let me out at around dusk.

i walked towards the patio again and now i looked just as if i belonged.

Some children were playing together and i watched them for a while, but then suddenly a boy, red top, mustn't have been older than 9, chased another boy with a knife. And they were both laughing, as if it was super funny. Staff was looking and they didn't say or do shit. I was worried, but it was none of my business, so i kept quiet. As the sun was almost completely set a little girl came out of nowhere and walked up to me. She was very weird in appearance, an albino with red eyes. had a black top on. She handed me a flower and whispered something under her breath, which i couldn't quite hear, smiled and ran off.

Finally something good had happened in that weird place. I kept the flower by my bed until it withered.

The next days were when shit really started to get real though. I met up with the psychiatrist guy again and he was very pushy, as usual, but.....he started asking me about details on my suicide attempt. i was really uncomfortable and nervous. He kept prodding and prodding and i started vividly reliving it in my mind. Something about his words.......i started having a severe panic attack, and he just stood there, stoic, watching me. After minutes trying to compose myself, I told him to go fuck himself and sat back down, to no reaction.

He then said he had a solution to all of my problems.

And.......he explained it.

"You see N, we have here in the foundation many sociopaths, psychopaths and people with an uncontrollable desire to kill. You, as you've told me, wants to die. Our job here is to give everyone what they want."

It was all clicking. I went pale at the thought.

"How about we arrange a murder for you to take part in? We have many available murderers at your disposition....."

I fainted.

I woke up in my room, thinking about what had just been said to me. So this place was definetly not a mental health hospital. I didn't know what it was. 

I looked at the ceiling thinking about his words over and over again. Do I want to die? Should I......? No. This was ridiculous. More than that, it was completely fucked up. I stormed out screaming I wanted out of there, only to be locked in again. The psychiatrist was there, at the other side of the door. "Just think this through, N." he said. "Think about what you would like. We're just here to help you. Death is not bad as our culture would like you to believe. It can be something BEAUTIFUL."