Fiction Books About Mental Institutions Novels & Stories

Marius and papa can only watch me with distraught expressions, but none of them take a step towards me. On the way to the mental institution, I continue to insist to the police that Leslie set me up, that I’m not hallucinating or anything of that sort. But the more I explain myself, the more they see me as a dangerous, crazy woman. My tears fall harder, my sobs echo louder as soon as we arrive at the institution. I fight back, trying to free myself from both the police and the nurses’ grips as they drag me deeper into the eerie facility. I’m placed into a small room, restrained by a straitjacket. Murmurs keep rushing out of my mouth, but I can’t understand any of it.

She wandered in and lit a lamp, which illuminated almost the entire space. "Huh? He's been a part of the mafia all his life and leads a ruthless gang. What could I possibly learn about him through old books? And to top it all off, why would I want to understand him? He kidnapped me, Isabella." "To understand Darick, you need to understand how his mind thinks. Here." She handed me a book with torn and withered pages. I opened the book cover and couldn't tell if the writing style inside was medieval or gothic. I didn't even know if the two were the same.

I opened another—it described my death. As I reached for a third book, a hand stopped me. I turned—and saw that it was Lucas’s hand. But he was no longer young; he was now an old man, holding a pen. He whispered, “Don’t open that book, Sophia. That book says this library is actually a memory inside your dead brain… and we will never be able to escape from here.”

Martinez asked me to research more about my abilities which I had no clue how was I supposed to do that. The library was really huge and It amazed me every time I got the chance to visit it. I didn’t even know how much books that library hoard, maybe thousands or millions or billions, I don’t know. So, of course, I went straight to the psychology department to gather books I haven’t encountered yet. Though, I guess, that was a great time to browse because there were less people inside. As a matter of fact, when I went there, there was only one man reading. Yeah, just a man with a black hood. So, I started browsing books about emotional healing, powers and even the psychology of healing.

The force of gravity in the room seemed to suddenly increase, threatening to drag her to the floor. Get over it. You knew damn well this was going to happen. Just . . . move on. She looked over her shoulder to finally take in the rest of the space. Her father’s bed lay inside one of the corners, the mattress a size too small for a man of his height and covered with the same camo blanket that rested on her own. A large bookcase lined one wall, its contents a hodgepodge of classic and paranoid—“Survivalist,” Emma corrected herself—literature. She scanned the titles. Finding Tom Sawyer and The Anarchist’s Cookbook resting beside each other conjured demented scenes of the scamp lobbing improvise

He heads to the mall’s food court area to unpack the items and check out the plots as well. The series is a medley of genre set in a dystopic time. He is amazed at the condition of the books, they feel… brand new? He takes his time to admire and study their condition for almost a hundred times. As he grabs the orange books, he feels the hard cover and runs his hand on the embossed title – The Darkest Minds.

He wasn't there and the desk was empty, yet something in me lurched at the sight. ‘What was wrong with me?' I swallowed, looking away to center my thoughts. The books. Right. Plopping onto the soft surface, I looked properly at the books I acquired, ready to clear my mind. I let myself get drowned in the mass of words that came meaninglessly. The first book I read was some kind of fantasy romance adventure. One which entailed a woman who had to run away from her home and found herself another family in the form of two siblings and another pack. It was strange to say the least, but it kept my mind momentarily distracted.

It breaks my heart to know how mistreated and abused they were. The institution is far too big of a place for how little it is used and the now limited number of patients, only those who are truly mentally ill are kept there now. It’s practically an empty space, and the pack Hospital is abysmal, a tiny unit attached to the packhouse. We decide to renovate the institution into a state-of-the-art Hospital, with a secure psychiatric mental health wing attached to it.

I walked so slowly and so noiselessly out of the room and down the hall. There weren't many people up, since it was technically late, all the nurses were busy in someone else's room checking on them, or were hidden in their office. This made it the perfect time to escape for a little bit and plus I really needed to think about how my life will change without Daniel in it. The sliding doors in the front of the hospital led to the small park across the road, as I slowly made my way towards it. I'm sure it is cold outside, but I didn't pay attention to that and walked out of the hospital.