Mid term holidays are here. Yay.
Edited.

Adrien's P.O.V

The first sense I had was smell. The first thing I smelt was disinfectant and paint. An unpleasant scent.

My eyes fluttered open, and I saw white. I looked around. More white. White everywhere. A white ceiling and white walls.

Was this a hospital?

I yawned, wondering how long had I been asleep. My body felt sore; it ached as if it had been one position for a long time. I lay down coffin-style; hands crossed over my chest, and it was incredibly uncomfortable.

I stretched out - or at least, I tried to. My arms barely moved two inches. I groaned at the immense aching feeling and looked down at what was preventing me from moving.

My eyes widened at the sight of the strange shirt I wore. The sleeves were overly long, and extended around my middle. I could feel the knot on my back from where they were tied together.

A single word rang in my head.

Straitjacket.

"Good afternoon, Mr Agreste."

My head snapped to the right, catching sight of a woman sitting on a white chair. She wore a nurse's attire, and everything about her was just as white as the room, except for her fair skin and golden hair pulled into a bun. Her eyes, though I could only just see them, were a deep green in colour.

"I am nurse Amour. I have been assigned to you as your main nurse," she said. "I'll help you in any way I can to make sure that you get better-"

"Better?" I questioned, my voice a whisper. "I...don't understand..."

"You are a little...sick, Mr Agreste, and I believe that I can have a hand in making you better."

"S...sick?"

"Yes. You came in yesterday, so your schedule is still fairly empty," she said. She bent her head over a clipboard in her hand. "Your psychology tests were supposed to commence today, but since you just came in, Mr Humble thought that it would be best if-"

I sat up slowly. "Hang on...psy...psychology tests? Wh-what are you talking about?"

She stared at me for a moment, and then sighed, looking down at the clipboard again and jotting something down. "Shows signs of forgetfulness of crucial events..." She mumbled before looking up at me again. "What is your name?"

"What?" I said dumbly.

What are you called, idiot?

I blinked. "Uh...Adrien. Adrien Agreste."

"And how old are you?"

"I'm...fifteen."

"What are the names of your parents?"

I hesitated. "G-Gabriel and...E-Emilie."

She stared at me for a while after that, as if she were scrutinizing me. I fought the urge to flinch under her gaze.

And then she bent over the clipboard again and wrote, muttering things I couldn't hear.

"Could..." I swallowed. "Could you tell me where I am?"

She answered without looking up. "You're in the Humble asylum for the mentally challenged."

My head spun. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her words, but her serious expression stopped me in my tracks. I stared at her in incredulity. "The Humble....Asylum...?"

"Yes. Last night, you were found in the boondock streets of Paris, unconscious and bloody, and beside you were three other boys your age, or rather their broken bodies, and you were captured....oh!" She jerked suddenly, making me jump. "I, um....wasn't supposed to tell you that."

Yeah, no duh.

"Shut up," I muttered, and her head tilted to one side. My eyes widened as I realized that she had heard me.

"What?"

"Uh...sorry. I was having....annoying thoughts," I said. Almost immediately she bent over her pad, and I swore, making sure that this time it was under my breath.

"Passes thoughts off as annoying, portrays indifference..." she whispered, and this time I couldn't help speaking up.

"I can hear you."

She looked up and, seeing my unamused expression, gulped. Did I look that unnerving? I sighed and wriggled around, groaning.

"Can you please get me out of this?" At my words and my pointed look at the stifling straitjacket, her expression softened into one of amusement. She shrugged.

"You know I can't do that, Mr. Agreste."

"Don't call me that, it makes me feel old."

She chuckled. "Alright then. Adrien, you will have to stay in that for a while. At least until we determine your mental stability."

"But I'm sane."

"Well, judging by the broken bodies of the boys in hospital, you aren't quite sane," she said softly. Despite what she was saying, I felt myself smile. Her tone was joking, and she seemed like a nice person. How she ended up working in a psychiatric hospital was beyond me.

"Look. I don't remember what happened before," I swallowed upon realizing that she was still jotting things down. "All I know is that those guys came looking for a fight, and I blacked out. I remember seeing the police, and blood, but that's about it."

She stopped, looking up at me slowly. Her jolly expression had faded away into dead seriousness.

"Do you remember laughing, perhaps?"

Shit.

The swear in my head was all me; I did remember laughing like the mentally disturbed, and had purposefully omitted that part in hopes that it had been brushed off as a mere trifle bit of information.

Unfortunately, it had not.

Miraculously, I had managed to keep a straight face. "Must have slipped my mind," I said nonchalantly, before wincing as I realized that my tone would probably work against me later.

Nurse Amour chuckled, showing no sign that she had written anything down. "You seem like an interesting person to be around, Adrien Agreste," she said. "I think it'll be nice, coaxing you back into normal mentality."

"I've already said that I'm not crazy."

"Keep telling yourself that," She stood up and turned around, opening the door and pausing before she stepped out. "And eventually you'll get tired of saying it. There's a paper on the wall; memorize the times, would you?"

She closed the door, and I heard the sound of the door locking. I sighed.

This was not good.

"A lovely predicament you've placed yourself in," came a low voice from the far corner. I bolted up, my gaze darting toward the source of the voice.

My eyes widened.

"Hello, Adrien."

A black, shadowy figure rested against the wall, with no distinguishable features save for a pair of white eyes and a wide, grinning mouth, exposing rows of sharp teeth. Despite me never seeing such a thing before, I knew exactly what it was.

"What...how did you get here?" I demanded.

"You mean in the physical plane of existence?" It chuckled. "Oh, I think you should be asking yourself that."

"You belong in my head. Not here. Go back."

"Ooh, touchy," it said, feigning fright before chuckling again. "You are certainly quick to anger, Adrien. A feat that got you to this point in the first place, and also the feat that brought me to this plane."

My eyes narrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Your - oh, what word can I use - nervous breakdown last night gave me power that is unimaginable to a mental-dweller such as I. Enough to free me of the mortifying prison you refer to as 'your mind'." It scoffed as if the term was wrong in all possible ways.

I frowned. "Why are you so hell-bent on torturing me?"

"Oh, Adrien. Trust me, if I had my way, I'd be anywhere but in your head. But fate wills it, and so I am merely a part of you, yet it is up to you to accept that fact."

And with that, it dissipated into nothing, and left me alone in the white room. I closed my eyes and somehow managed to convince myself that I had imagined the encounter - even though that sort of proved that I was mentally unstable - before getting up from the hard mattress I had been lying on and walking over to a paper taped to the wall not far from where the shadowy figure had supposedly been.

I read it slowly.

Waking - 7:00 am.
Roll call - 7: 30 am.
Breakfast - 8:00 am.
Medication precedes.
Morning sessions - 9:00 am.
Free bounds - 12:00 pm.
Lunch - 1:00 pm.
Medication precedes.
Afternoon sessions - 2:30 pm.
Free bounds - 4:30 pm.
Visiting hours - 5: 30 pm.
Television/arts and crafts - 6: 30 pm.
Dinner - 8:00 pm.
Medication precedes.
Lights out - 9:00 pm.

I sighed and collapsed back onto the mattress, looking at the clock placed on the far wall. It read 11:48.

It would soon be free bounds. I wondered if they would let me out.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Word Count: 1464.

One point of view once again. It seems that Adrien has gotten a one-way ticket out of the frying pan, but the fire sure is hot.

This took a long time to update because life got hectic, and I probably won't update for a while. Promotional exams are next week and I have to study to make it to the eleventh grade.

Wish me luck? No? Because I'm the devil?

Okay.