you're not supposed to be here.

[SAMANTHA VENGENCE]

The lounge was spacey enough. It was not to big and yet not to small. It was completely empty and an amazing place ot gather ones thoughts. Of course, it was the staff lounge. Samantha was a patient, but she had never much cared for retrictions. She got out some paper and a red pen. In a matter of twenty minutes there was a bleeding cat, with spikes on it's tail. She was a dog person obviously. She tucked the paper inside her loose fitting jeans. Her shirt was baggy and said "however, you can if you want." She never knew what it meant but the shirt fit her comfortably and that was all that mattered. She sat on an arm chair with her legs folded. She let her mind wander as she stared at her medical bracelet. She had been here a total of six hours and already they slapped their brand onto her. It said her name, age, and condition. They catagorized her as skitsofrantic. Multiple personalities? Pssh. That is just what they put there when they can't figure her out. She is all her, all the time. Well, aside from the episodes. She has no mind, but she is still there...buried somewhere. Something takes over her, weather it is form her mind or another source she has no clue. She doesn't want to know anyway. Next to her information is a bar code, that is all she is to /them/. She is an object that is just another way to recieve a paycheck. They don't know er yet, so they don't know to keep a special eye on her. They'll learn soon enough.

It was amazing just how easy is was to get down here. She simply walked down here and was never questioned by the countless number of orderlies that passed her. She had been escorted to her room and left to unpack. All her clothes still sit in that bag. She prefers not to make her residence permanent just yet. Voices, she heard voices. Soon an apparition appeared about five feet away from her. It was teh little girl who had welcomed her only hours before. Obviously they tried to scare new patients. Her little voice filled Samantha's head. Her cries, and her fears. Samantha had to put her head in her hands. Not from fear, she has always seen things other people haven't, but from pain. This things emotion was filling her head an dbuilding up pressure. Samantha wanted desperately to cry out in pain but then her mother might hear her. Wait, why would that her matter? Her mother can't hear her. Her mother commited-"No!" she yelled. The emotions faded and the pressure released. The ghost was gone when she looked back up. This place sure made a memorable first impression. At this point there was nothing left to do but sit back and calm down. She was breathing heavy, on the verge of a fit. If she went into an episode no one was here. No one knows what to do...it might go on for days. She had to clear her memories. The images of hung soldiers popped in and out of her head. Flames. Gunshots. Bang, bang, bang. Death. Pain. Nothing. There was no emotion or thought floating through Samantha, then she snapped back.

"Fuck..." she muttered to herself. Something happend here, years ago. War? Probably. A lot of wars were fought in New York. She hadn't caught attention from anyone above yet. They didn't realize she was missing. They're all dimwitted.......footsteps? Someone was venturing down. Oh well, her trip to the lounge was interesting while it lasted.

[jake]

Jakob was sick of scrutiny from his fellow employees. They didn't understand his ways. The only people who did were the ones that signed his checks. The big guns. The ones who hired him in the first place. Friday meant pay day. And that most of the staff that was off duty were out partying. Not Jakob. He had just returned from his night class at is college. He'd been loaded with a term paper due in two weeks. He'd chose to do it on schizophrenia. a commonly misunderstood disorder. The minute someone mentioned schizophrenia everyone jumped to the thought of multiple personalities but that wasn't what the disorder was at all. That was Multiple Personality Disorder. In his opinion, way less interesting than schizophrenia. Schizophrenics just had their minds all mixed up and this causes them to have "fits" in some cases. Jakob didn't now everything yet but he was learning. It happened to be his favorite mental disability. The most interesting one in his eyes. His feet dragged a bit as he made his way to the staff lounge to begin working on his paper. The staff had access to free wifi and if they didn't he'd be lost. He'd spent so many nights in the lounge studying and researching. He was a straight A student at school and in the near future he'd have a bachelors degree and would be allowed to assume the position as a therapist here. That was what he was working toward. He was nearly there when he heard someone scream no. It kicked him out of his tired haze and he quickened his pace a bit.

There sitting right where he was sure she shouldn't be was the new patient that had been admitted today. He'd taken some time to read her file before heading out to go to class. She had been diagnosed with schizophrenia. How ironic was that. He sighed when he saw her. He'd have to escort her back upstairs. She'd probably get pissed. It was easy for patients to sneak down here because the orderlies never kept track of which patients had the privlidge to come downstairs. At the highest level on the behavior charts a patient had most of their freedoms back. Including roaming whereever they wanted in the building. Allowing them to access the basement gave them the opportunity to find their doctor or therapist or a counselor if they ever needed them. Jakob sighed. "Come on, Samantha. I'll have to escort you back to where you're supposed to be right now. You haven't quite earned the privlidge to be down here yet."

[/color] He sounded a little bit more staffy than usual but he was tired and stressed out. Once he got her upstairs where she was supposed to be he could sit down and sort out this paper he had to work on.

On his way up he'd drop his bag and jacket off in his room. It was right on the way. He was wearing his favorite leather jacket and had a messenger bag strapped to his shoulder. "It's hard to believe they haven't sent someone looking for you yet. But then again...[/color] He trailed off. He didn't want to speak badly of his co-workers in front of a patient. especially one that was new here. "Nevermind."[/color] he mumbled and scratched his chin as he waited for her to get up and head out the door. He hoped she would cooperate because he was off duty at the moment and really had no intentions of dealing with unruly patients. He'd call an orderly to deal with her. And their solutions were always the isolation rooms and padded rooms.[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[SAMANTHA VENGENCE]

A boy came down. He sighed when he saw her, obviously not wanting to deal with a crazy kid at the moment. He talked so...stiffly. She looked into his eyes.....he's stressed. Unhappy with his position although he loves his job. Overachiever. Overworked. She wan't planning on saying anything, but her mouth opened itself. "You have to give yourself a break every once in awhile." She got up and followed him, she wasn't a very difficult person if she didn't have to be. She walked along side him and listened to his silent rants abbout his co-workers. She just nodded her head as if to say she understood. Samantha had never had a job, her mother was to protective. What would her darling mother say now? Nothing. Her mother was silenced forever. She walked along side this man, he must be a councelor. The ones who act as escorts. She looked at his bag and there was a paper sticking out. She saw the letters 'SCHIZOPH'. She smiled grimly, he wanted to know about disorders. Maybe he could help him. "Bachelors or masters degree?" she asked. She usually didn't mind silent walks but if he worked here then he must know something about the history of the building. Something about what she saw... It would start with small talk and then develop into what would appear as friendship. Really, it would be an outlet for information. A little decoy never hurt a soul. She tried desperately to get another look into his eyes. The eyes really are the window into the soul, it's amazing how much you can find out. Well, if you know what to look for. He seemed like a pleasant enough person, although that put him on his own level of crazy. If working with a bunch of utcases didn't damage him at least a little bit, then there was much more to this guy. It sort of sparked curiosity in her. Although not enough to question him any further.

She waited for an answer, not really caring what it would be. She had no real interest in him as a person, but his position in a place like this. how is that one who works around the "mentally impared" does not develop issues himself? A question better unanswred for her. She just had to be patient and wait for opprotunity to poke it's head from out under a rock.

[jake]

Jakob felt bad for being so harsh. He was never like that with any of the patients. He always tried to be kind and get the patients to enjoy his company. He didn't want to belittle them or make them feel like he didn't respect them. That wasn't him. He wouldn't apologize, that would be strange. She had no clue how he usually acted. But he would try to be more friendly while he escorted her upstairs. "I'm Jake, by the way. I'm a counselor here."

[/color] He offered, trying to be friendly. He didn't know if he had already implanted the wrong image of himself in her mind but he hoped he hadn't. He made a mental note to study Samantha extra close. She might help him with this paper, being schizophrenic and all. But he wouldn't try to make it obvious. He didn't want her to think he was using her as some study guide or anything.

when she asked about his degree he was confused. He looked at his bag and saw one of his papers hanging out slightly. The name of his college printed across the top. She was a smart one. Very observing. He smiled as he tucked the paper back into the bag. "Bachelors. Just trying to get the job I want here. Although I love what I do, I'd love to be more than a babysitter some day." He answered. He hadn't divulged too much but just enough for her to get an idea of who he was. He was still very young so it was easy for him to connect with some of the younger patients. Especially the ones his age or close to his age. The younger ones seem to cling to him. It was like he had a crowd of young girls following him at all times. He'd kind of taken on all the girls who admired him as his group of patients he was in charge of. He had the largest group of all the counselors. It was expected, he was the most fun.

Instead of heading straight for the stairs he took a right and headed down the hallway where the staff rooms were. He pulled his key card out of his pocket and when he reached the fifth door on the right slid the key in and out of the lock quickly, the red light turned green and he heard the lock click. "Sorry, small detour. That bag is heavier than it looks."[/color] He opened the door just enough to throw his bag and coat onto the floor of his dark room then he shut the door and slid the key into the lock to lock it again. He wasn't in his uniform. Which meant no ugly khakis and maroon shirt. He was wearing a black t-shirt with a band logo spread across the front of it. And a pair of distressed jeans with a white studded belt and some skater-style sneakers. He looked even more like a patient without his uniform on. His tattoos probably stood out the most. He was forced to wear long sleeves to cover up most of his tattoos during his work hours. The ones on his neck and hands were harder to cover up. Now his arms were visible and completely covered in tattoos. Not many patients had seen him without his uniform on. Only those that had been here long enough. [/blockquote][/blockquote]

[SAMANTHA VENGENCE]

She just nodded at the detour. She looked at all his tattoos, they were beautiful. The body is truly just ablank canvas waiting for an artist's touch. She thought about how a grown man must have felt about babysitting people like her. Well, people that were classified like her, no was really like Samantha. She knew that and accepted it proudly. She had so many questions. Was there a fire? What types of wars passed through here in the almost-recent past? Well, Samantha could name a few. According to the state she dropped out of school at 15, her fits were getting bad then. She got more educatoin just from locking herself away in a room with one light and a big pile of books than she ever did at that popularity contest. her biggest advantage was her eyes though, they saw right through someone. They always had, and probably always will. Her mother said it was a special gift she was born with. The doctors said it was an over active part of the brain creating the illlusion of being able to know someone through their eyes. Samantha preffered to call it her lifeline. As he turned around she saw another bit of him. Caring. Friendly. Not at all what she expected, but she wasn't shocked. They had a use for each other and it was more buisness than anything. He wanted a good term paper or whatever and she wanted information. She'd always been the curious type. As they walked away from his room she swayed a little bit. Headache, they were commmon in her. A question she hadn't even pondered moments before popped into her head, "What to you think of animals?"

It seems like a random question to anyone, but she might have seen something in there about animals. Dog maybe? She hoped to god it wasn't cats. Well, at least she hoped to some divine power. Her belief in god faded along with her sanity long ago. He wanted to stop being a babysitter he had mentioned before. Whats above that in this place? Therapist? if you ask her it's not a good working environment at all. You're either cleaning up, watching, or listening to crazy people. Her mind wondered even furthur onto what interested him in schitzos. They aren't very interesting. They're normal and then babble like crazy kids and kill people sometimes. That wasn't Samantha at all, even though she unconciously killed someone. She swayed some more, this time bumping into the wall before she got herself straight again. Her eyesight went blurry for about a minute before returning to normal. She walked a little bit slower now, it wouldn't be noticeable to the untrained eye. But because of Samantha's luck Jakob was probably trained, and might start asking questions. Questions that were none of his buisness. "Before you even bother asking, I'm fine." she said and steadied herself and picked up the pace. It made her head hurt worse, but she didn't care.

[jake]

Frank almost laughed at her random question but he held it in. Just settling for a smile. Random questions weren't anything new around here. He'd been asked things a lot more random than that. The most random would have to be when someone had asked him what kind of popsicle was his favorite. He hadn't been able to hold back the laugh on that one. Especially since she had asked out of nowhere. He loved random questions to be honest. They made conversations more interesting. "I love animals. I have five dogs but I'm keeping them at my mother's for now. I've been saving up to get my own place so that i can have them with me. How about you?" He answered. He did indeed have five dogs waiting for him at his mother's house. His mom was way too nice to him sometimes. He missed the dogs though. He'd had a couple of them since he was a kid. He usually rescued dogs from shelters. He liked dogs that weren't perfect. That needed a little extra help. That's was just Frank's nature. He liked helping those who weren't perfect.

Frank watched Samantha with concern as she started to sway and walk a little bit slower. It was like she was going to pass out or something. It wasn't that bad so he didn't say anything. He just watched her to make sure if she did fall he was alert enough to catch her. She noticed him watching and told him she was fine but he wasn't convinced. She started walking normal but he kept his eye on her. He didn't want her to collapse on him or anything. He wasn't even close enough to others to call for help. They were almost back to the stairs though so it wouldn't be long.

He thought about her saying she's fine and decided her wouldn't touch on that subject. Something in her voice said she didn't want to talk about it. So he'd talk about something else. "You know, they say this place is haunted."

[/color] He looked around a bit when he said it. His eyes searching for something he didn't even believe was there. "The only problem is that the only people who claim this place is haunted are the patients. And of course, none of the people in the big office ever believe anything like that coming from a patient. Not trying to scare you or anything. Just thought I'd give you the heads up. He said. He wouldn't tell her that he himself had heard the sounds of a little girl laughing in the linen closet on the girls dorm floor one night when he had finished hall checks. It had sounded like she was right behind him. But when he turned to see who it was, thinking it was a patient, nobody was there. When he looked down the hall he saw no one. He had shaken it off, tried to forget about it because he thought that if he told anyone, they'd think he deserved to be a patient instead of a staff member. And he didn't want to lose his job. It meant too much to him.[/blockquote][/blockquote]