I did not belong here. That was my first thought as I stared at the sign labelled psych ward with an arrow seemingly pointed directly where I stood against the wall. A big red arrow on top of my head as if to notify the world that I was irrational and psychotic; a warning sign of danger up ahead. “Beware of rabid animal” might as well be tattooed on my forehead. This thought was solidified as I saw nurses running past me towards a room, where sounds of chaos and madness seemed to originate.
“Sedate him!” screamed a women from inside of the room.
“I cannot restrain him!” came from another, with a very evident expression of struggle in her exasperated tone.
As the complication came to a close and silence was replaced, a gurney with an unconscious teen strapped tightly to the bed came rolling down the hall, led by a burly man with large arms wearing a security uniform. The nurses that I had seen previously quickly followed, one with a scrape along the side of her face and the other with a line of blood trailing down her arm, the origin of the wound hidden by the sleeves of her scrubs; exhaustion flooded their faces.
Poor boy had no idea what he would wake up to, but believe me, he will wish he never woke up at all. I had been in this hell hole of a place for six months and somehow people seem to be misled into believing that my mind is classified as “psychotic” while I believe it is just pure generosity that looms in my being. Those people got what they deserved….they had it coming and it was me who delivered their punishment in the rightful form. They deserved to feel the pain of every slice of their skin and to hear every appendage fall to the floor after being unfastened from their bodies. I did mankind a favour really and this is their way of expressing their appreciation for my efforts?
I had relished in my dose of entertainment for the day so I began to walk back to my room as these thoughts still lingered in my mind; as the memories still flashed before my eyes. A smile crept up on my face as the smell of blood lingered in my nostrils and the sound of screaming flooded my ears. I took my time, I was in no rush and you would have thought they would have appreciated my clean incisions…but no. They had no respect for me while I was being so generous as to provide them with the attention and comfort that they deserved. The judge specifically said I had “no respect for mankind” but my actions beg to differ.
The doctors have labelled me as a psychopath but really if you look at it from my perspective I had committed no crime other than performing the act of kindness. I had done a task for humanity, and they say what I did was selfish and sinful; so they put me here. A mental hospital for the mentally insane. THEY are all insane for thinking that this place will change my future career in vigilantism. I will not change my role of serving justice to those who deserve it.
I see myself as a superhero; an honorary member of the justice league, protecting mankind from scum is my duty. I walked into my room and saw my roommate lying asleep so peacefully on his bed, it gave me a new idea…contemplating, questioning what my next move would be. I would prove to everyone that my rightful place was out there, not in here. The streets needed me, protecting my fellow humans. I did not belong here.