AN: Hey guys! Shoutout to Zelda_Air! She's my best friend and I look up to her. I know you probably won't, but look up her account and check out her story if your into Scömìche fanfiction! Thanks!

So this chapter will basically be Nico leaving the hospital and heading the the asylum. The media doesn't have anything to do with this chapter, I just saw it and thought, 'Oh hey! That's cool! I'll post that as my media for my next chapter in, 'In the Asylum,' so yeah, let's do that!' But anyway, the order in how I would have people sit next to me, would be: seat 1; Nico Di Angelo. Seat 2; Will Solace. Seat 3; Bianca Di Angelo. Seat 4; Hazel Levesque. Seat 5; Grover Underwood. Seat 6; Frank Zhang. Seat 7; Zoë Nightshade. Comment on what your seating arrangement would be! Enjoy!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY PERCY JACKSON!! *hands Percy a blue cupcake* Now go share this with Annabeth like on your sixteenth birthday!

Nico's POV

      I was at the hospital for the next three days. When I first arrived I would get dizzy whenever I sat up, but this got better over my stay at Mount. Sinai hospital.  I still wasn't a big fan of the nurse, Shakylla, I believe.
       I talked with Bianca a lot, and mama and uncle Alessio came in often. Occasionally a random rotten corpse, or lost soul would wander into my hospital room. At first this really freaked me out, but I figured always freaking out over it wouldn't do me much good.
       Don't get me wrong, it still scares me like hell whenever a zombie would just barge into my room, but Bianca told me that this would be happening from now on.
       It was around nine o'clock in the morning in New York. I would be checking out soon and some people would come to take me to the 'Mental Institution'. Do they really have to use big words? Why not just call it what it is. An Asylum. For crazy people. I'm not crazy, am I?
      Knock, knock, knock!
      The door opened and in stepped that nurse.
     "Hello Mr. Di Angelo." She said, looking me I'm the eye, as if to tell me, 'I have no patience today, so annoy me. I dare you!'
      Well, nurse Shakylla, challenge accepted.
      "......" I ignored her, not even bothering to glance her way.
     She coughed into her sleeve, irritated, trying to get my attention.
     I stayed silent.
     "Mr. Di Angelo!" She said, her voice near shouting. "Are you going to continue to ignore me?"
     I don't react.
     "Mr. Di Angelo, I'm in no mood for games!"
     I still keep quiet.
     "Nico..." Bianca warns me, not liking my stubborn behavior.
     "Ugh. Fine." I can feel her eye roll from the other side of the room. "Your check out time has been moved from eleven o'clock A.M, to noon. Alright?"
      Again, nothing but silence from me.
      The nurse huffs and leaves the room, grumbling to herself about me being a jerk and how I was dumb.
      After she left the room, I sighed. I already knew that stuff, so there was no need to practically whisper shout it to herself, loud enough for me to hear.
     Bianca, who way standing next to me was staring daggers at the spot the nurse has been in.
     "Bia?" I ask. The intensity of her glare was pretty high.
      "Yes fratellino?" Bianca looked at me, her gaze softening.
      "Bianca, if your mad at the nurse, don't be. Sure, she can be rude, but she doesn't deserve your time."
      "I'm sorry Nico, I just don't like how she insulted you."
     "It's okay Bia." I didn't want my sister to be angry at anyone. Bianca was a naturally happy person, so I didn't like seeing her unhappy.
      In the hours leading up to my departure, I tried to eat, but ended up throwing all of my meal away, except for some grapes. I talked more with Bianca, trying to find answers as to how and why she was here.
     She would only respond saying that it was because she didn't want to leave me. It was a pretty one sided conversation.
     Then finally, at eleven fifty, two large men came into my room with the doctor. I had gotten dressed back into my usual attire earlier. Black skinny jeans, a black skull shirt, and a pair of black converse.
     No. I'm not emo. I just prefer black. Dark colors. They're so different from what the man that killed Bianca had worn that horrible day. It makes me feel separated from the event that cost my sister her life.
     After I had gotten out of bed, the two men grabbed me. I wasn't one for physical contact, so I yelped when they touched me. They didn't seem to care though. Their rough holds never ceased.
     I was for sure going to have some bruises on my biceps. I was dragged up to a van, where one of the two guys say in back, while the other day up front driving. Bianca stayed next to me the entire time. So did mama and my uncle.
     As I boarded the van, I saw a pale white figure of a girl, maybe fifteen, my age, floating in the air, her eyes resting on the ceiling. A strait jacket was wrapped tightly around her thin frame. I paused for a moment, but was shoved ahead by the burly man behind me.
     I sat down and the man put a pair of clasps around my hands, locking them together, so I couldn't use them if I possibly got aggressive. Yeah, as if I would pick a fight with these guys.
     Suddenly, the head of the ghost above me turned in a one-eighty, her body still facing up. Her eyes locked on me, and her mouth opened. Her lips moved as if she were speaking, but the only sound escaping her lips was a high pitched screech.
     The noise pierced my ears and I tried to cover them, but the cuffs on my hands prevented me from doing so. The guard in front of me said something, but his low voice was muffled from the girls cries.
     I cried out from the intensifying volumes of her screams, but, as expected, it didn't do anything to make her stop the torturous sound she was emitting.
     The guard, of course, didn't notice anything. No one does. Only me. The souls of the damned seemed to be haunting me ever since my last attempt of suicide. The souls I knew, like Bianca and mama and Alessio, were friendly, while others were just neutral. They would leave me alone unless I provoked them.
     I hadn't done anything to make this soul mad, had I? I glanced back up at the girl, her head still twisted at that gruesome angle, still screaming like there was no tomorrow, which for her was true if you counted it as living days, rather than how she was dead at the moment.
     I screamed once more. The pitch her voice was at was now extremely high. It hurt my head to hear. The frequency was so loud, I thought a marching band in the middle of a screamo concert had decided to play as loud at they could in my brain.
     I tried to focus on the way she was moving her lips. I was never the best at lip reading, but I would at least try.
     Her lips seemed to read:
      'They took me. I didn't like it. I tried to fight. They killed me. I will stay here for eternity. They don't like people like me. Like you. The eel.'
     Oops. Must've read that wrong. She probably meant ill.
      '-and they don't care that we might see the world how it really is. They only like their way. They don't want to think that the world might be more messed up than it is now. They don't like that we are special. They are jealous. Or just ignorant. They think we're insane, but you first have to be insane to outsane the sane. Trust me, they don't want to help you. The only friends you have are the ones that are like you. Don't trust them. Only trust yourself, and remember, don't trust the-'
    A speed bump in the road shook the van a little bit and the girls screaming immediately stopped, along with the movements of her lips.
     "Wait, what do you mean?!" I shout, wanting to know more. "Please! Tell me! Who are you, and how did they kill you?! What do you mean that we see the world how it really is?! Please tell me!"
      "Be quiet!" The man across from me yelled. "There's no one here. Your just seeing things. This is why your going to Half-Blood Mental Institution and Asylum. Your crazy."
      The man seemed cranky, and so I kept quiet through the rest of the ride, even with Bianca sitting next to me screaming insults in Italian at the man while mama was scolding Bianca for using such language.
      Even though she knew the man couldn't hear her, Bianca didn't seem to care, and continued yelling at him. It felt good to have someone actually care about me. My father, as expected, didn't even show up to the hospital once. Same with my step mother, Persephone.
     The car ride was long. Probably a few hours. I kept hoping the ghost girl would start to speak again, but I guess she either didn't want to, or couldn't.
     When we pulled to a stop I couldn't help but feel nervous. The things the girl had said were pretty nerve wracking.
      "Stand up." The man ordered, and I obliged. It was time for my arrival at Half-Blood Mental Institution and Asylum.

AN: Hey guys! So this chapter was much shorter than the others, but at least I'm getting it published! I wanted to make a blue cake to celebrate Percy's birthday, but my mom wouldn't let me! I was very sad. She even went as far as to say that he was 'just a fictional character' and his birthday was 'unimportant.' I'm surprised she's still here on this earth right now.

     Anyway! How've you guys been? You didn't comment any questions, so I'll hold off my answering thing until I get questions. So, comment on how this story is going so far, if I should update more often, and what I could do better on! I always love constructive criticism! You guys rock! Word count at the bottom! I should just make that an annual thing! I will now do word counts from now on! Tell me if you guys would like that! Until next time! 😉

Word count: 1,800