Taint (A Violate Sequel)

I dream about Tate again. It's different this time though, he's different. He looks the same, maybe a little older, but he sounds different and most important, he feels different. He reaches his hand out to touch my face. Just as his fingers caress my skin, I'm jolted awake by a pounding on the door.
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Breakfast isn't anything special. At my old place they wanted everyone to be healthy physically and mentally, but here it seems that they don't really care. I sit by myself at a table by a window. Most of the people don't seem too insane, but you never know. Also, it's coed. Crazy girls and crazy boys. Some of them are kind of cute but I know better. I can't just keep going from one psycho to the next, even if they are good-looking. As if on cue, one of the cute psychos sits down next to me.

"Hey, I'm Seth." I say nothing, focusing on my soggy oatmeal. "I hear you like fire," he whispers, trying to get my attention.

"How did you know that?" I question, looking up.

"I know a lot of things. Like that feeling you get, gazing into a flame? Shivers all over, but you're warm and excited." He's really close to my face now. It's bringing back memories, bad memories. Tate, there. The smell of gasoline burning the insides of my nostrils, then the smoke, filling my lungs. And finally Tate. I loved him, I still do. You could say he put a spell on me but I really wanted to die with him. For real. As long as we could have our forever. I still don't know how I'm alive and why I'm alive,  when I Should've died back there, and I would've rather died than be in a fucking mental asylum especially this one. And no amount of Seths or other cute crazy guys can fill the void left by Tate.

I stand up, leaving my half eaten oatmeal on the table. "It was nice to meet you."

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Unfortunately, you're not allowed to go back to your room whenever you want here. Nope, you have to stay in the common area where you can do a variety of things such as losing what little is left of your mind and fantasizing about stabbing yourself in the eye with a knitting needle. In the midst of all that, some lovely nurses are walking around with pills and little cups of water. I take them because I'm starting to feel and I don't want that. 

I fade in and out. Seth shows up around 2 o'clock. He says something but the words are swimming in my head just like little fish, just keep swimming, they say, or maybe he says it because his lips are moving but I just can't focus on the words. It's like they're tendrils of smoke dissipating into the air. Smoke. I want a cigarette. I turn my head. "Do you have a cigarette?" I ask, but he's already gone. I look at the clock. It's 7 p.m. Warning bells are going off like church bells in my head. A nurse comes by to take me to bed. She tells me not to worry. They messed up the dosage. I should be fine. Oh, and tomorrow is my first day of therapy. I blink to acknowledge her because moving my head feels like too much. 

The door closes with a heavy clang, the sound ricocheting through my head. Clang. Like an alarm. Something is not right. Right is not something. I drift off to a drug induced sleep, completely forgetting about...