I was taken to the head police station to be questioned. They finally sat me in a room with three chairs, a table with a clipboard on it, four security cameras, and a big mirror which I obviously knew was for people to be observing the room.
A man walked in the room and sat down silently. He did not speak, only sipping on his coffee approximately every 20 seconds. After waiting for about ten minutes, a lady walked in with a tape machine to record our conversation in her left hand. She sat down, and pressed the green button on the machine.
“Anything you say or do can now be held against you and will permanently be in our records,” she looked at both me and the man, “You may begin.”
The man was the first one to speak. He said his name was Officer Williams and he was here to ask me a few simple questions before they went into any further process.
“What is your name, miss?”
“My name Alyn Jones,” I replied. Officer Williams started to fill out a paper with a lot of blank spaces on the clipboard.
He reached into his pocket and placed an ink pad on the table, and told me to relax my hand. He took my hand, pressing my index finger from left to right on both the ink pad and a boxed out space on the paper.
Officer Williams asked me a couple simple questions including my birthday, my family, where I live, and my personal information. The front page of the clipboard was now filled and I was asked to empty all of my personal belongings from my pockets.
I emptied out my phone, keys, wallet, and two pennies onto the table. The lady with the recording tape took out five bags to put each item from my pocket to a bag. Two security guards walked into the room and escorted me down the hallway to a new room.
In the room, a slim man with dark hair was waiting for me to sit. He had an intense look on his face that pierced me as sharp as a knife inside. The man almost intimidated me, and nobody dares to intimidate me.
“Take a seat, Alyn,” he announced,”My name is Peter Johns. Doctor Peter Johns. You may call me by any name that is comfortable for you,” he paused, “Most of my patients call me Peter.”
“Thanks, Doc, but I think I’m a little different from any other patient that you’ve had before. I’m assuming that you are the one who tells me that I’m not crazy,” I said to him.
“Nobody is crazy, Alyn, especially not you,” he tried to comfort me without succeeding to do so.
“I don’t think you quite understand what crazy is, Doc,” I responded back to him, ”Crazy is most definitely not a bad thing if that’s what you thought crazy was.”
He looked puzzled as though he was speaking to somebody who was a different breed of human. “You’re right about one thing. You are different from anybody who I’ve ever spoken to.”
“I like to think that my mind works in a better perspective than most peoples’, you know, instead of thinking of the bad consequences, I think of the good ones.
“Can you explain to me what a good consequence of your actions were? When you jumped off that building to the next one, and ended up in the police station, what was good about that?”
“Aren’t you the one who is supposed to be ‘good’ for me?” I asked without needing a direct answer.
“You’re very clever, Miss Jones,” he responded, “Too clever for your own good.”

Overnight they sent me to some stupid place that they referenced as a “Home for the Mentally Disabled.” The room that I stayed in had a caged in window, a bed, and a desk with a lamp on it. Also the walls were cushioned. Somebody probably tried to break every single bone in their body on here once, I thought as I stroked the worn out fabric. That explains why they’re not here anymore I guess, I shrugged and looked down at my feet. I had to wear this gown with nothing else on. I also had to take out my earrings and belly button piercing due to the fact that they thought a spec of metal would cause me to go mad.
“Miss Jones, my name is Mariah. I am here to take your pictures and lead to the room where they will follow up with your Psychological Evaluation, so please look at the camera first and I will get your pictures taken,” she said.
“Okay,” I said in the nicest way possible. She took five pictures from multiple angles capturing every detail on me. She then led me to a nicer room where a middle-aged man sat who told me that I would be doing my evaluation his name was Michael.
“On a scale of one to ten, how safe do you feel here?”
“Ten, very safe, Sir,” I said.
“Are you on any drugs?” he asked.
“I’ve never done drugs.” I responded, even though I’ve done just about every drug there is. Maybe with the exception of heroine. He scribbled on the paper tapping his heel on the edge of his chair. He cleared his throat.
“Any history of smoking?”
“Yes, I smoke cigarettes,” I responded. The only reason I told the truth was because I knew that my pack of them were in the bag that kept my belongings.
“What kind do you smoke?”
“Marlboro Menthol 100s,” I replied.
“I’m sure that you must want one of them right now, huh?” He crept his way into my mind as if he knew that I was hiding something from him.
“No,” I responded very stern,“I don’t have an addiction to something that cliche.” He looked up at me and paused for a moment.
“Well, how often do you smoke? A pack a day, less or more?”
“Less and more,” I replied, “Like I said, I don’t have an addiction. I can control the amount of how many cigarettes I smoke,” Michael gazed at me wanting more of an explanation. “Some days I decide to smoke two packs, and some days I decide to smoke nothing at all.” Michael scribbled more onto the paper, filling it out eventually.
“How is your family?”
“My family is great. My parents are split, but that doesn’t really affect me. I see both my dad and my mom pretty equally,” I lied again. The truth is, my family used to be great. That was until my older sister went through a “rebel stage”. She told my mother about my father’s affair, so he left the house, never to be seen again. After he left, my sister did too, except I know where she is, and it’s my decision to never see her again. Oh, and three years ago my mom left too. She still pays the bills for the house, and leaves monthly phone calls saying that she’ll be back in three days, but she isn’t tricking me.
“Do you have any siblings?” Michael asked.
I thought about it for a second, but just shook my head, ”No,” I muttered.
Michael asked asked about my friends. I told him that we were all very close and had tons of sleepovers. I also told him that our families got along, and about all of the cookouts we had. We had plenty of cookouts but none included our parents or we’d be killed. What he didn’t know was that they mostly stayed at my house because I had a party almost every night.
He put a hospital band on my wrist that had my age, gender and name on it along with a ton of numbers.
“I see right through you, Miss Jones,” Michael said as I was leaving his room, “You don’t fool me.” I stared at him for a moment. He seemed like he knew everything and anything in the world. Like he wasted his time asking me a single question for the past half hour, because he already knew the answer.
“There’s nothing to see through, Michael. I told you the raw truth,” I responded to him as I quietly left the room. I timed the pace of my steps. Left, right, left, right, left… I thought. How could he know these things? As of now, I’m just going to assume that he was lying, until he gives me evidence that he does know. Maybe he does that to all of his patients on the first session just to show them that he is not the type of person to mess around with.

I sat down in a big room where all of the patients gathered in the daytime. There was lots of room to paint, draw, write, or play with cards. Of course, there were supervisors watching every move we took like they were hawks.
“So you’re the new girl,” a voice said in my ear. I turned around to see that it was a guy, about 20 or so.
“Sure. I guess this place is my new obstacle,” I said. He examined me like my body was being carved into his head. Every bone was burned to his brain. “I guess that I’m the ‘new girl’, so what would that make you?” I asked.
“William, and who’s your doctor, I know he works outside of the facility.”
“I call him Doc. He’s really nice, but I don’t think he understands my perspective of life.”
“Alright, I’ll take it,” he cleared his throat, “And I don’t think you’ll be getting out of this place any time soon. I’ve been here for three years, all of the exits are bolted, and Michael won’t budge.”
“What makes you think that you’re better at this than I am?” He has no idea what I am made of to think that anybody is more clever than me.
“Touche, Newbie,” he winked and bit his lip like he actually found that comeback impressing to me. He turned to walk away. He walked with swagger because he knew that I was still looking at him.
I rolled my eyes, “You can quit calling me ‘the new girl’,” he turned back waiting for another word to roll off of my tongue. “My name is Alyn.”
“Alyn, that’s one that I’m not going to forget,” he called back, “Alyn…” he said as I turned to walk away.
I sat down on a couch in the back corner of the big room and began to read a book. I read “War and Peace”, one that I’ve read at least a million times. Nobody ever says a bland word. Everything they do has a purpose. It will never get old. I kept a copy of it in my drawer at home, anytime I needed to clear my mind, I turned a couple pages.
Although I read it a million times, it was hard to concentrate. Across from me, some guy was screaming and twitching. In the corner diagonal from me, a woman was trying to bribe a visitor to bring her back a little pouch of cocaine. Too many things went on here at once as though the air was rehab that the insane people refused to inhale.
Names kept being called to different rooms for daily sessions on each hour. When I heard William get called, I looked back and examined him as he walked into the room. He genuinely didn’t care. He didn’t seem like he needed help. Will was completely sane to me, but something bad happened to him before he was locked up in this place. That I don’t think I’ll ever figure out.

The next couple of days, I woke up early, around 5:30, I didn’t sleep much during the night. Days rolled by as boring as they were. I had to take a ton of pills that the doctors thought were necessary. I didn’t mind taking pills, it just bothered me that they were filled with some sort of fake powder that “helped speed the recovery process”. I didn’t feel a difference. My main dosage of medication was an antidepressant called Zoloft. They told me from my background information, it would be the best treatment. In reality it’s just bullshit.
Will met me in the morning in the cafeteria for breakfast. He always ate toast with chunky peanut butter; it has always been his favorite. On the other hand, I ate an apple and some oatmeal. I only like my oatmeal with a lot of brown sugar in it. I sipped my black coffee forcing myself to wake up. The cafeteria was pretty empty except for the old ladies who naturally woke up this early, not many others got up until 10:00 or noon.
“How did you sleep, Sweetheart?” Will took another bite of his toast.
“I’m far from a sweetheart, I’d say that I’m closer to a demon, but I slept well,” I let out a yawn. “I got as much sleep as I could, I guess.”
That afternoon, I spent with Will mostly, just like every normal afternoon. We walked in the garden and painted the flowers. When lunch came around, Will left to take a nap. I had an appointment with Doc in a half hour, so I just read a little bit and relaxed. About an hour passed and I didn’t get called for my therapy, so I asked a nurse and she told me that my appointment had been delayed until tomorrow. I was concerned because he never let me down.
Three woman were whispering and looking at me from across the room.
“If you have something to say to me, you can go ahead and say it. Talk away, it’s foolish to talk behind my back, so just say whatever you want to say right now,” I exclaimed.
“We were just… talking about what William just did in the lobby, I hope your therapist is okay. Will seemed to hurt him pretty badly,” the one lady said shyly.
“Where’s Will?” I asked.
“The last time I saw him, he was in Michael’s office, he might still be in there,” another one of the ladies said.
I picked up my pace and barged through the corridors to Michael’s office. I saw in his office, Will was still there. I tried to open the door, but it was locked. I knocked, but they did not acknowledge me, so I decided to bang the door until Michael came to unlock it.
“Will, what the hell were you thinking?” I screamed at him, “Did you think it would be okay to punch my goddamn doctor? Jesus, look at your fists, you’re a mess!” He rested his hands on ice. “Just don’t bother talking to me for a while, okay?”
Night came up and I slept as much as the night would allow me to.

I ate oatmeal this morning. It was better than a piece of bland bread. The cafeteria ladies were the nicest. They didn’t force you to eat or give you a lecture on life. The janitors are by far the funniest, though. They spill the funniest jokes and try to keep a smile on everybody’s face. Never trust a janitor, because they will tell Michael anything that goes on to try and get a 25 cent raise.
Will came over and sat down next to me, “Do you have an appointment with Doc today? I didn’t think he was supposed to be here until Friday.”
“Will, I’m starting to think you are actually insane. Doc isn’t here today,” I laughed at him.
Whatever, Alyn. You can think whatever you want,” he walked away and I could tell he was really pissed.
“Aye-leene? Aye-leene Jones. Michael wants to see you,” a nurse shouted. Nobody ever gets my name pronunciation right.
“It’s pronounced Uh-lean, not Aye-leene. My appointment isn’t until 3 o’clock, why does he want to see me now?”
“He requested that you go to his room now,” she said. I pondered upon why he would want to see me now. He doesn’t like me, and as nice and pure as I act, I don’t think he’s gonna let me out now.
I sat down across from him and waited for Michael to speak. “Alyn, your therapist who works with you requested that you get released for a day. He says that you will be staying with him and that you will be under his supervision for the next 24 hours.” I was shocked. I have been seeing Doc twice a week when he comes in to visit me, but he didn’t mention releasing me. “You have permission to change into your own clothes, but you must return back before noon tomorrow,” he handed me a pile of my clothes and once I changed, he led me out to the visitor’s room.
“You already been’ released, Lyn?” Will looked concerned.
“I’ll be back before noon tomorrow, I’m sure you can find somebody to torture this afternoon that isn’t me,” I turned to Doc. Will grabbed my arm and pulled me close to him.
“Be careful with that guy,” he whispered into my ear, “I don’t want you to get hurt. I saw him in Michael’s office earlier, he was inside of the pill cabinets. Alyn, he was tossing pills down his throat. Please be careful.”
Doc held out his arm and handed me a jacket. He eyed Will and walked with me out of the door, “I have an exercise for us today,” he exclaimed, “I want us to visit the tower from where you jumped.”

I followed him to the car. I’m shocked that this is where we are going. Isn’t this the place that he wants me to stay away from? What happens when the guards on duty see that I am here? The police would lock me up in prison.
When we arrived, Doc led me to the back of the building where most of the supplies are delivered to. “Hey Jason, I told you a patient and I were coming.” Doc talked to a man who slipped a key in Doc’s pocket midway through their conversation. We made our way up about 14 sets of staircases, on our way to the top of the tower.
“Clever,” I said to Doc, “I didn’t think you had that type of thing in you.” He always seemed so innocent and never broke the rules.
“I have the key, so it wouldn’t be considered breaking and entering, just entering,” Doc went on, “And, they can’t put me in jail for just entering.”
He made a good point. Although he did, I still don’t understand what made him go so badass since the last time I saw him. I’m surprised that he doesn’t have a leather jacket on. We kept climbing stairs which seemed like they would never end. I saw at the top, a door that looked familiar. It was unlocked the last time I came here, I already had that taken care of that the last time. Doc hurried up to the door and twisted the key into the hole. Click. The door propped open and swung immediately to hit the opposite side. Doc and I stepped out and he latched the door closed.
I closed my eyes to feel the breeze almost carry me off of my tip toes, when I opened my eyes, Doc was at the edge of the building where I jumped.
“I understand, Alyn,” he blurted out. “I get why you jumped. Now that I look across to the landing spot, I see how you did it.” He went on. “When the people came up here, they thought you were jumping to your death. If you hadn’t have jumped, they’d think that you were going to jump to die.”
“They all thought I was going to jump to die,” I sighed, rocking myself back and forth, I didn’t know what to expect of this. I couldn’t tell what’s coming next.
“You had to jump to prove to them that you weren’t jumping to your death, but you were actually jumping to live. You aren’t suicidal, you’re ambitious. It just takes a lot of thinking and effort to know what perspective you are coming from. You have a whole different perspective on life and now I know how you see life.”
The skylines gleamed as light hit off of every shadow. It seemed as though things were okay now. Somebody knew what made me feel so daring. Somebody knew that the type of crazy I felt was okay. Someone knew what it felt like to look past the ground and onto the next building. Somebody understood that jumping doesn’t mean dying. If living means jumping, I’m jumping for life. We take chances and make the landings. We jump everyday, and at the end of the day we either hit the ground or make it somewhere. Society is toxic, they don’t know how to live. They’ve poisoned minds of so many. Never do they ever put their hearts on the line. We are meant to take big jumps and reach the highest of heights, and we are meant to never look back.

Sirens started to blare in the distance so we ran to the door, locked it up, and got out as fast as hell. Doc let me stay at his place, but then he took me back to the Phyc Ward in the morning.
When I got there I went to Michael’s office to report back. He was in the restroom so I waited. On his desk were a few papers that read my name. With curiosity I looked through the files. The top paper was titled “Permanent Release”. I looked and saw that the paper had three signatures on it. The first was Doc’s signature which was short and tiny. The second one was my Psychologist's, the person who put me on medication. The third was Michael’s. But the last space was held blank.
“Found the files, eh?” Michael was standing at my shoulders. “You have made progress, Alyn. I think the time you had here was valued, but I think that it’s done now.” He took a pen from his pocket. “I want you to sign this only if you feel that you are ready to leave this place, you’ll be back every other day for therapy, but other than that I think you have done well.”
“This is it?”
“If you want it to be. You have my permission to be released. We will be keeping a close eye on you, though.” I took the pen from Michael and scribbled my loopy signature at the bottom of the page. I was allowed to go. When I got to this place I didn’t think I’d be able to get out for a long time. Doc had something to do with this, but however the hell he did it, I don’t care. I’m gone from here now, and no matter what I’m getting out.
“I am ready,” I said, “I’m ready to reach the highest of heights.”