Thread: M x F - Long-Term - 24 prompts/plots/starters within

M4F - Psychiatrist and his new patient Seven years ago, his Father had passed, leaving him the private estate that his family had owned for what must have been a century now. His Father, just like him, was also a psychiatrist, but not just any psychiatrist. They dealt with some very hard situations at the estate. Well, not the estate itself, but the private hospital theyd created on it called Craice. To the outside world it was just another name a made up name for a hospital but ironically one of Freds family thought it would be a funny way to add insult to injury by merging the names Crazy and Hospice... making the word Craice. Well Fred, or Dr Crawler as patients called him, took it upon himself to change the way Craice was run. The Crawler family were often consumed with money. Probably not the only reason they all became doctors, but certainly one of the top reasons. He really didnt want to make his estate hospital about care for the crazy, it needed to be something more. The first drastic decision was to reduce the number of patients, when he took over. The change moved the maximum patient load down to only 10. Fred wanted the patient care to be of utmost importance. The government, since his hospital was highly supported by government funding, put up a bit of a stink at first but after seeing his proposal agreed that it was in the best interest of the patients. The night was going off without a hitch so far. No serious problems really to be dealt with. No addicts that he had to talk down off a cliff. No paranoid delusionals that he had to coax out of a nightmare. The on-call, that he of course always hated, tonight was simply a way to keep his exposure to the outside world. Taking on these shifts, periodically, did mean that he had to take time away from Craice, but how would he even get patients if it werent for word of mouth and referrals from hospitals just like this one. The time bleeded down to nearly the end of the on-call shift and of course here it was. ALWAYS, without a doubt, it always happened toward the end of the shift. Some nut job broke a beer bottle at a bar and tried slashing at someone, or someone fell asleep on a park bench and was brought here by the police Fred was always brought in to take care of these situations and did he ever hate them. These werent people that truly needed his help these were people that just didnt know how to control their own lives. But no tonight was different. There she was, bleeding from arms, legs from any extremity that the world could see. Needle marks, her eyes back in her head foam at the mouth he knew he was truly needed here, and was truthfully glad that he was on-call tonight. Fred watched on as they revived her numerous times. Her arms looked like freshly cooked noodles with the way they were bending and the softness of the skin from all the blood lost. They hit her with adrenaline again and her eyes opened and heart was beating, he sighed a breath of relief. The number of doctors and nurses that went in and out of that room in the last 45 minutes was too high to count, but she was finally in a state that she was ready for him to go in. Fred had just finished having a conversation with the trauma doctor that was on that night he just had speculation of course, but believed the wounds to her arms and legs were self inflicted, but the bruising and cuts to her face werent. The doctor wasnt sure about the drugs, and honestly didnt want to have an opinion but said he would sign whatever papers Fred needed to get her into Craice instead of going home So with that, the doctor signed his name at the bottom of the empty paperwork and left the rest up to Fred whatever he filled in on the papers would be why she was at Craice. He stepped through the door and approached her slowly. She was clearly too weak to truly even do anything but lay there. The amount of blood lost wasnt a cry for help as most would say a lot of suicide attempts were this girl truly wanted to end her life whatever she was going through was enough to just want it to all go away. Fred simply opened his mouth, watching as her eyes tried to stay open, and said Im Dr Crawler. Im a psychiatrist and am here to help you. he knew she wouldnt be responding, he knew she didnt have the strength so he just continued with what he knew she needed to hear in this horrible moment. You wont be going home anymore. Im taking responsibility for you, and youll be safe with me at my estate. I just want you to sleep, and when you wake up we can talk. His voice trying to be as light hearted as possible he wanted to calm her, wanted to give her some sort of peace that shed be safe in her sleep right now, and that when she woke up she wasnt going to be sent back to whatever brought her here tonight. Fred waited until her breathing became heavier than turned and walked for the door. He looked down at the chart before him. He didnt even know what to write, but started with the best explanation he could come up with. Basically outlining that the patient was beyond the point of despair. The patient was readily inflicting pain on herself and was in no condition to be put back in the situation she came from signed Fred Crawler beside Trauma doctors signature. Getting on the phone immediately he called and set up transport for her to happen while she slept. The drugs they put her on, after Freds recommendation would make sure she didnt wake until she was comfortable in her new accommodations at Craice. .................................. I'm open to writing in either 1st or 3rd person. I'm also open to your interpretation on where she came from, how she got here. This prompt is a bit on the darker side, so if that style of writing isn't for you, you may want to stay away from this one!