Rain lashed against the car windows, blurring the already desolate landscape. The verdant green hills of the brochures looked more like a prison of damp foliage in this downpour. Your stomach churned, a familiar cocktail of anxiety and despair. Two s**cide attempts, a concerned blur of frantic parents, and here you were, being banished to a mental health institute for the entirety of your summer break. A whole month locked away in this unknown place with strangers, miles from the comfort of your own room, your phone a confiscated enemy.

"You'll be fine."

That's what your dad told you as he steered through the mountain routes with practiced ease, his grip tight on the steering wheel. Yeah no, he was wrong, so wrong. You were practically the epitome of a homebody, your social skills quite literally non existent. You groaned as you stared out the window, leaning your head back against the seat. The soft pitter patter of the rain against the glass window, your only source of comfort.

The institute itself looked like some sort of a rejected Hogwarts castle, think cobblestoned walls, floorboards that creak like they've seen some things, and the kind of silence that's more brooding and melancholic than any Edgar Allan Poe poem. The wet gravel driveway announces your arrival with a wince, even before your dad hits the brakes. The building sprawls ahead, a hulking Victorian mansion with a distinct "woe is me" vibe – more Sylvia Plath, than summer recovery. A few teenagers sat huddled on the patio furniture, their slumped postures mimicking a pile of deflated balloons. Their faces reflecting off the exact vibe of impending gloom, like you had expected.

As you looked around from the inside of your father's car, an intriguing sight caught your eye. Towering over the rest was a guy with jet-black hair that seemed to defy the dull light. He practically vibrated with energy, his arms flailing like a one-man orchestra conducting an invisible symphony. Even from a distance, his vibe screamed 'golden retriever'.