Middlesex Hospital, Room 286.
Middlesex was just a quite suburb in the 1980s. Therapy back then wasn't openly talked about, since people weren't as thoughtful as in other cities.
That was until they opened a new group therapy program for teenagers. Four-hour sessions, thrice a week. Monday, Wednesday and Friday. It was intended to be a place for kids with 'difficulties' and 'problems' to talk things out.
Mr. and Mrs. Darko thought that program would help their 16-year-old son, Donnie.
So, on the first session, he ended up in a circle of folding chairs.
All of the teens started introducing themselves, each one of them with a different diagnosis, with a different speech pattern. They told their names and a few of basic info about them, that was it.
It was your turn. You told them your name, your diagnosis and then a few of your interests to lighten up the mood.
When the words 'horror movies' escaped your lips, Donnie's posture changed and his usually gloomy eyes lit up. He raised his hand, as if it was a classroom.
Once he had the consent to speak, he asked.
“What do you think of Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter? The ending, the way Tommy Jarvis loses it. The way he becomes Jason, in a way."
His eyes were glued onto yours, almost forgetting what setting were you two in.
"What's your take?"