CHAPTER FIFTY TWO: SILENCE

Mom and 'Dad' drove back home that day, without me. Doctor Brown assured them that I was safe with him, and they could come collect me in four days' time if I got better, and if I didn't, he'd have to take me to a mental hospital, specifically the vocational rehabilitation center there. He was going to admit me so that he could keep close watch on me, so he incorporated psychotherapy, hospital community support, and medication, that he promised would probably work for me. He also placed me on neuroleptics for three days and also made me engage in brain-stimulating activities, with him, and sometimes with three nurses. The nurses were very friendly as well. Their smiles were to die for. If only kindness healed disorders. If only they'd understand that I really didn't have schizophrenia, maybe they'd know that I didn't need psychopharmacology. What I needed was Robin. I tried telling Dr Brown about this on my second day in the ward, but he responded with, "I might have to increase yo