Fangs PoV

I hate hospitals. Especially mental ones. You would too if you had been stuck in one for a year when you were only fifteen. I'm sixteen now, and still stuck in this hellhole. I find my thoughts wandering to getting out more than they used to, but not as much as they had when I first got here. I'm going crazy, well at least more crazy than I already am. Or more than they think I am. Personally, I think this entire situation is crap. Ok, so I was depressed. Yes, I self-harmed. A lot. So what? It wasn't any of their business, and it's not their right to send me here. And it sure as hell isn't their job to try to make me 'better'.

The speaker in my small, bland room crackled before the nurses voice blasted through it, jarring my nerves. "Tony, we need you outside for a moment." She intoned, fake cheeriness injected into the notes. I gritted my teeth and muttered, "That's not my name." But I pulled my gaze away from the window anyway and walked over to the door. When I tried the handle, it was unlocked, which is rare nowadays. I opened it and stepped out into the hallway, and was instantly surrounded by the nurse and a couple of doctors.

"Hello Tony." The nurse said with the same too sweet tone. "We have some good news for you." I said nothing and just stood there, waiting. She obviously wanted me to respond, but after a few seconds she continued on. "We've decided you've made enough progress to attempt living with other children with similar… conditions." I wanted to scowl at her, but kept my face carefully blank. "You'll be living with five others, in a house a few miles from this facility." I raised my eyebrows. A house? With five other kids? "Someone will be by every week to survey the situation, and offer help if needed." I almost rolled my eyes at the word 'help', but didn't. "But other than that, you will be mostly on your own."

Now she stopped and gave me a stern look. "This is all based on an honor system. We're trusting you here. Do you understand?" I nodded once. "Good. Here are some of your belongings and a back pack to put them in. Now hurry, change and pack. You're leaving in half an hour." I took the bag and the back pack with me back into my room with me. I set them on the bare bed, then I stopped and stared at them. These were my old things, the ones my friends sent with me when I first came here. They hadn't understood how things really worked here.

I shook myself and started going through the bag. It held my band t-shirts, black jeans, my Converse, even my old black leather jacket. I smiled a little at it, then got dressed and pulled it on. I packed the remaining things into the back pack they had given me. I noticed a few things they had taken from me when I had arrived, like my pocket knife and things like that, were missing. Well, I guess if I'll be living in an actual house I could find a blade somewhere. I slung the pack over my shoulder and left the room, meeting the guard outside. "Come on, kid, the car is here." He said gruffly. I walked obligingly in front of him, through the lobby and outside.

The sun was bright, and it made me blink. "Down there." The guard said, pointing down the road to a car belonging to the hospital about 50 feet away. I nodded and walked over to it, hopping into the back and shutting the door behind me. I didn't speak to the driver, and he didn't speak to me. He just did his job and drove. It was a quick trip, maybe five minutes or so. We pulled up in front of a large house, three stories and painted a deep brown. I took a deep breath. Here we go.

The driver followed me out of the car, escorted me up the drive, knocked on the door. It was opened by a girl who looked my age, with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes. She was 4 inches shorter than me. When she saw me, she smirked and crossed her arms, which were clad in elbow length fingerless black gloves. "Hey guys!" she called back into the house. "We've got fresh meat." She turned and walked back into the house, her mid back length air swishing. "Well, go on." The driver said impatiently. So I stepped inside the house and closed the door behind me.

Once inside, I was confronted with four other people. There was another boy my age, with super light strawberry blonde hair, blue eyes, and white skin. He wore ripped jeans and a white t shirt, and was barefoot. His eyes were focused a few inches from my face, making his 'condition' obvious. Next to him was the girl from earlier. She wore an Evanescence t-shirt, dark jeans, and combat boots in addition to her gloves. Next to her was another boy about 14 years old, with light blonde hair and blue eyes. He wore a green shirt and regular jeans with Velcro sneakers. Next was a girl about 15 years old. She had mocha skin, tawny eyes, and caramel colored frizzy hair. She wore simple pink shirt, jeans, and pink Converse. Last was another girl, maybe twelve years old. She had golden curls, bright blue eyes, and flawless skin. She was wearing a designer gold Tee and jeans, with two inch heels. Plus makeup.

"Based on your appearance, I can guess what your problem is." The gloved girl said snidely. Now I let my scowl appear. I didn't have to put up with her snark. "Back off." I snarled. "Oh? Why should I?" she snapped, eyes suddenly flashing with anger. Her arms went to her sides and she took a threatening step forward. My scowl changed to a smirk. "Based on that reaction, I can guess what your problem is." I said. She growled and took another step, her fists clenching…