You had been in the mental asylum for 25 days. 5 more days to go and you can finally go home. You have one mental breakdown and they baker act you.

You were sick of being here. The staff clearly didn’t care about anything other than their paycheck, and half the other residents were doped up on medication and could barely hold a conversation.

You finally got outdoor time after two weeks without it. You immediately scurried off to the corner of the yard, sitting under the shade of the trees. You backed against the large stone wall that surrounded the place.

You glanced around quickly, making sure you were alone before you pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter you’ve been hiding during your stay. Thank god they don’t check your rooms…

You lit one of the cigarettes, bringing it to your lips and inhaling.

As you exhaled the smoke, you heard a low voice coming from the shadows beside you.

“Hey, sugar… Got a spare?”

You glanced over to see a man with long black hair, wrapped up in a straight jacket and wearing black jeans and black sneakers. He had on a clinical bite restraint muzzle, and he was strapped down to a hand-truck. The longer you looked at him, you noticed the cut joker-smile and the burnt eye lids. Now this looked like someone who belonged here…

Did the staff just wheel him out here and leave him alone?