♠ - laιr oғ lυnaтιcѕ - ♠ S e m i - L i t ~[Open ;; New]~

[Ozara]

{ The RP is now open to starting posts because I feel that now we have a sufficient amount of patients c: }

[water-witch]

[ my for on page two is finished. Am I accepted? ]

[Ozara]

{ Yes :3 You're accepted }

[water-witch]

[ Thanks. Yay for starting! We are starting, right? ]

I'm not perfect,
bu I don't think
you are, either
H
A
Z
E
L
L

● paranoid, as usual ●
● at the 'hospital' ●
● with no one ●
● wearing this ●

{ hazell genson ● eighteen ● paranoid }


Hazell was very, very, worried. This new place is so strange and cold. What if I get lost? What if I get sick? I do have a very weak immune system, after all... My brain is so full of thoughts filled with fear, I already feel faint. What if I fall and hurt my head? My hands are sweaty. What if I get food poisoning? I feel my face getting hot. What if they all think I'm insane and put me in a weird padded room? I start getting light-headed. What if there's a weird chemical in the air? I put my hand on a chair to keep from falling over. What if I don't like the food and I starve? My other hand goes out to the chair. What if I die? I don't think I can walk. My legs are like jelly. So I don't move. I just stand there, sweating. I pull off my scarf and hat and mittens and coat and push up the sleeves of my sweater, but I still feel hot. I can't call for help. I've never been able to say a word, not even cry, and now was no exception. I open my mouth, but no words came out, none at all. All I get is a sore throat. Don't faint don't faint don't faint... I squeeze my eyes closed ad try to moan, scream, anything to let all the nurses know I am not OK right now. And miracle! I cough. A hacking, painful-sounding, groaning cough. I get a cold flash and put my sleeves down, my hat and scarf and mittens and coat back on, grabbing a cough drop from my coat pocket. I unwrap it and pop it in my mouth, my sparkly blue eyes searching for nurses. Maybe with the cough drop I could talk. my eyelids start to drop, but I shake my head, not abut to fall asleep. Though no one would be surprised if I did. And I was right. There are giant purplish bags under my eyes that wouldn't qualify as carry-on luggage at the airport. I had to put about a gallon of caffeine into my body every morning or I had no chance of staying awake. I never got any sleep. I watched Doctor Who, heard ghost stories. Every single day. And I believed every bit of it. So I never get a wink of sleep. Not ever. Not once. I see no nurses about, so I go around and around, coughing like I'm hacking up a lung. "H-help!" I finally squeak out, but I know no one is going to hear me. I couldn't even hear me. Oh, what's the use? I flop against the wall, one hand feeling about, searching for support. I felt light-headed and very, very, cold. I knew I was going to faint. Oh, dear. This isn't a good start. I flop over, this time on the floor. Some nurses rush over. my last thought before I black out is this: Well, at least I'll get some attention now.

[Ozara]

{ Yes we are >:3 I'll edit this with my starting post after I finish it ;; }

[water-witch]

[ 'kay, great! my post is sort of a wip, too... ]

[Ozara]

{ There's gonna be a delay.. Helping Mum with dinner. }

[crazy.]

{{I have part of my males form up}}

EDIT: Here is a post for my girl.

мαяια αяιαηηα ѕтєνєηѕση

♦ Seventeen ♦ Female ♦ THE 'smart girl' ♦ Severe Paranoia ♦

уσυ яєαℓℓу тнιηк ι'м ρяєтту
♦
ι нανє ƒєєℓιηgѕ тσ уσυ кησω
♦
тнє gιяℓ ωнσ ѕтσρρє∂ ℓιѕтєηιηg
♦
ωαιтιηg ση уσυ
♦

Giving up smoking is the easiest thing in the world.
I know because I've done it thousands of times.
-Mark Twain

Activity Sitting
Listening To People
Talking To No One
Crush Don't be so Naive
Dating Foolish People

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

The time in the dreaded looney bin seemed to be increasingly slowing down the process of time. Everyone was seemingly walking slower, the clock was ticking every three seconds, and the world world was almost frozen in one specific moment, it was agony toanyone who could see it. Especially if you were the girl who was residing in solitude in the back of the room, her long blonde hair in its typical curly ringlets, and her big blues eyes reflecting with a shimmering gleam from the one way glass across the room, directly infront of her, but the image itself was twenty degrees to the right of her twelve oclock view, it signified that the angle of the lighting was left, approximately forty degrees of the reflected eye. And the girl was no ordinary girl, that girl was myself. It was a curse of mine, being able to predict to a science everything around me, like the angle of my eye reflection. I had studied human bahaviour for a while, then again to be honest I had studied everything academic I could. Even I didn't trust the functions of my overflowing beacon of knowledge. But seeing, was part of my curse. As I sat secluded from everyone all I could do was watch. I was watching. Observing. Waiting. Waiting for what? Who knows. I was just waiting. My bahaviour was symbalizing that of a Lioness, who would stalk its prey and watch as it waited for the exact time to strike its ultimate plan of attack. Only unlike the Lioness, I currently had no plan of attack. My devised plan was alternating in my mind to be simple, but truthfully I knew better.
To my left there was a noise, it was quiet, it was like hearing a pin drop, no one would have heard it, but I heard it. Why? Because I was listening, waiting. Waiting for what again? To that I have no answer. But I was watching and observing. So the sound so quite it was like a pin dropping I picked up on. Although it was out of my sight I paid close enough attention to what I could hear and picked up what had happened. It had been a needle that dropped, probably for the patients only two minutes and thirty seven seconds ago that had thrown his table at his shrink. Although I had not seen it I had picked up on the details of that as well, concluding that the man must have been six foot, as the air time of the table sufficed that he had thrown it with great force, and judging by the way that that the table had clattered, I could rightfully assume that it was thrown from ten feet away, and smashed the wall, the slight stench of paint was breezing through the air, as the airconditioner was blowing the air towards my directions, so I could assume that the table had gone threw the wall straight into the next room where they had recently painted, so that the paint was still fresh. How do I know all this without actually seeing it? It was all part of my curse of knowledge. Most people in life had to face the problems of money troubles, or cheating husbands. I was a seventeen year old girl, currently residing in the looney bin because I had been driven to the verge of insanity by the United States government, who was bound and determined to use my excessive knowledge for their own selfish good.
Drawn back to the reality of the world, no longer able to find relaxing anxiety in the distress of others I was forced to look at a woman who held a bottle of water and a plastic cup of twelve pills in it. I looked at the pills, and with a simply glance I frowned. "I am suppose to recieve 40 daily grams of Paroxetine, commonly known as Palex, because my body requires more Sarotonin, which Paroxetine provides. But my doctor prescribed me with 40g daily. That is split into two sectors of time meaning I am suppose to recieve 20g of Paroxetine at this exact time. But judging by the slight tremer in the vein in your index finger what your holding exceeds 20g by 0.3g. Meaning that I am being administered to much of my medication. Which is potentially dangerous in a long term side effect of my Sarotonin levels." I said to the nurse with a serious expression that she failed to find serious. Instead she handed me the pills and told me to swallow them. Sighing I used my finger nail to file away the 0.3g's so I was taking to sorrect amount of medication. Or at least, so she believe I was taking the correct amount. Truthfully I hadn't taken my pills since I landed in the looney bin. Which is an awful reminder to me that I should really stop referring to this as the looney bin.
With a slight frown I took a sip of water to wet my throat then poured the pills into my mouth, tossing my head back after adding more water so I was swallowing the pills. Or at least pretending to, I had taught myself to hold pills in my throat after swallowing so I could quickly reguritate them before they started to disolve inside my mouth from the dampness. Despite what I imagine everyone believes, I am not crazy. And I am aware that is what all crazy people say. But truthfully I am just a girl with to much in her mind. Every waking minute was like reading a new book, I was always learning, whether it be from the behaviours of others, or the knowledge of the world. Either way my mind was already expanding to broader things, and I didn't believe that was possibly. To be practical I may as well have been born as an encyclopeadia, because I was capable of telling to anything that you would likely need or want to know about all things history or science related. When I use to do the occasionally partying, people use to find it funny, thinking it was a cool party trick that I knew 'everything.' Once they made me leave the room and one of the people in the room took my sunglasses, they made me reenter the room and figure out who took them. And thruthfully with the information I was spewing out I don't think they quite enjoyed the 'party trick' because they looked frightened.
Slowly I found my gaze wandering over to a wall and I sighed, the height of the ceilings were seven feet, the length of the wall was ten feet, it normally wouldn't cross anyones mind to even consider looking and wandering, but before I could even tell my mind to figure out what the diagnoal length of the wall was it was calculated in my mind. Using the tradtion A squared plus B squared equals C squared. It was a prime example of my brain posessing to much knowledge, without the thought even registering my mind I could pick up on things that would dare even enter a normal human beings mind.
All of a sudden my mind was flooded by a thought and I clutched my head in agony as to many things started to go threw my head, all of the things trying to force itsway into the center of my focus. That was how I wound up here, I use to get mental brain malfunctions everynow and then, when the knowledge seemed to overwhelm me. And people assumed it was voices in my head, they assumed I had gone mad. And even now I always managed to land up getting poked and prodded with needles. But never before I started to mumble in a voice to low for others to hear. I was always mumbling jiberish according to me doctor, useless no comrehensible jiberish. I was never in the right mental state to know what I was saying, but they had recorded it once, and it wasn't jiberish, much to my doctors disbeleif. I would know the words in a heartbeat. It was the code I had developed mentally just for a file in my mind labeled 'Government Secrets.' Somehow, despite the fact it should have been entered on record, my file fails to mention my photographic memory. Truthfully I suspect the government wants me to sound as crazy as possible, and honestly. They were doing a good job. By my file not mentioing that I never forgot anything they were making it look like I was a very paranoid young girl who needed to be saved.

[Ozara]

{ S L O A N E ♦ A D A I R ♦ A U S M I U M }

x • x • x • x

.:FEELING:.
Nothing
.:LOCATION:.
Hallways
.:WITH:.
No one
.:WEARING:.
~x~

♦ - -

♦ - -

Sloane walked with no sort of pace or rhythem; she stopped every so often to twirl or softly sway a hand in a pattern like a kind of bird would. Her eyes were luminous and glossy with innocence; a false innocence in all blunt reality. But it was entirely convincing. Her hair was straight but flicky today; the cold somehow affected its behaviour. Sloane began to hum the haunting chorus of Sleep by One Republic. The song that never leaves her head. She hears it all the time and yet it never tires out. It never will. She won't allow it to wear on her.

A duo of nurses passed her up in the hall, moving a little to the side as though with fear. They paused their talking completely even though Sloane giggled like a five-year-old and waved at them. Once she raised her own hand a nurse flinched abruptly and began to speed in her walk until her back was to Sloane. She had just recently been taken out of the 'Priviledge Revoked' room where she was snug in a strait jacket to be all by her lonesome in a squishy walled room. Sloane didn't mind in the slightest though; her eerie knack for speaking to her own hallucinations became a comfortable habit to replace boredom. Even though she was incapable of that emotion. For some reason, it just never happened.

Sloane had stabbed a woman in a bathroom. A nurse. The woman hiccuped while the two were side by side, which set off her misophonia. In a violent, uncontrollable rage, she reached for the closest thing {In this case, a pen} and stabbed the woman through the shoulder. But now that that was over with, as well as her short lived punishment, the empty-eyed crimson haired seventeen-year-old girl was eager to take a step outside for the first time in a very long while. The staff here were pretty impatient with Sloane because she despised medication. But that was natural for people who stayed here. Though Sloane, being extremely intellegent, figured out it didn't take a genius to know you only had to fake swallow the pills. Sometimes a stickler would make you open your mouth and move around your tongue to be sure they were gone, but that wasn't always the case. It wasn't even often the case.

The doors leading to the courtyard were just a meter away from her now. The shift in temperature was easy to pick up on. There was a nippy wall of icy air the closer to the door she got. A dull glare of opportunity began to mold itself onto her eyes as she rested a pale palm on the frigid surface of the door handle. Sliding her hand further down before pushing out, Sloane breathed in deep as the outdoors air filled her lungs with a tundra-like frost of brisk atmosphere. Oh, how she craved this cold. It was snowing in such an enchanting manner. She could hardly resist skipping; but did. Even though it wasn't something to be surprising from her. A luminated electric green butterfly that appeared to be leaving behind wisps of transparent lime colored haze as it flew by. This of course was a mere trick of the mind, but she pursued it despite that. The alluring neon vapor butterfly passed over a cluster of vividly shaded flowers, which caused Sloane to stop and touch her knees to the floor in a sort of squat as she traced her fingers over some of the petals.

The girl was so consumed in her own head. So lost in her own subconscious consciousness. And there was no recovery. There would never be a recovery.

"That's a tigerlily." A brittle voice spoke up, making Sloane's mint jade eyes flicker towards the source. It was a girl; a four-year-old. She had dark skin and caramel eyes; her hair was in a tidy ponytail that waved down her shoulder and right up to alignment with her elbow. She wore a muted yellow dress with a bee pattered into it, the lines displaying its flight dotted comically behind it in loopdy loops. "Hello Shylah." Sloane beamed, turning herself towards the young girl with her legs criss-crossed. "Did you find my butterfly?" Shylah questioned Sloane hopefully.

- - ♦

♦ - -

[PapaRoachFan]

|~| How should I begin? |~|