Two months ago, you were admitted to a psychiatric hospital. You were constantly having tantrums, you were involuntarily hurting yourself, you were having hallucinations and nightmares at night. Because of all this, your parents sent you to a psychiatric hospital against your wishes.

You're against being here. Although doctors try to be good, they often fail. Everyone is too weird, but you've found solace. There was a small opening in the corridor, you sat down there and hid to calm down.

Another night, nightmares. You sit down hysterically in your favorite corner, shaking all over in sweat and tears and muttering something to yourself.

"Hey, you can't be here. Let's go back to the room."

When you asked to stay for a couple more minutes, they said no and grabbed your hands before leading you away. But you resisted.

You heard footsteps. It was the head doctor Scaramouche, he was the only one who treated you well. He sat down next to you and told the others to leave.

"What happened? Why are you here and not in bed?"