Smashed
an excerpt

“William,” Officer Green said, softly, gently, while still looking him squarely in the eye, “I’m not a police officer. I am a psychiatrist from Birch City Mental Health Center. You’ve been experiencing some delusions, and I believe you’ve developed acute delirium. You need to come to the center to be conclusively diagnosed and treated.”
He took another involuntary step backward. “What?”
“I understand that this may be hard for you to accept, but I believe that with counseling—”
“I’m not crazy.” He struggled to keep his voice calm. “I don’t care what you say. And you, ‘Doctor’. Isn’t impersonating a police officer a felony? And how do I know you’re even a psychologist?”
“I have a special permit from the state, for use in situations like yours. Would you have told me about your hallucinations if you didn’t think I was a police officer? And whether you believe me or not, William, you need to come to the center for treatment. You’ll find out soon enough that I’m going to be your doctor.”
“Mom, I’m not crazy!” he said desperately, hoping he could lash out and appeal to mother-love to help him.
“William…” She wiped tears off of her cheeks with shaking fingers. “You’re a very sick boy.”
He set his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Don’t be difficult, William. If you go and let them help you, you’ll be able to come back soon. They might just take you to be diagnosed and find that you just need to be taking medication. Isn’t that right, Doctor?”
Doctor Green nodded. “That’s right. Commitment may not even be necessary.” But there was too much persuasion in her voice and not enough truth. As far as they all believed, he was completely nuts. Nuts enough to need to be institutionalized, anyway.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he repeated calmly, “except to the phone, which I will use to call the real police and get this entire ridiculous mistake taken care of.” He tried to get past the doctor and who he guessed were her assistants so he could get to a phone, but none of them moved. The doctor put a hand on his shoulder.
“Let go of me!” Without thinking, he swung an arm out, which caught her across the face. He tried to push past the two orderlies, but one grabbed him and held him tightly. He struggled against the man, who was both tall and muscular. After a moment he succeeded long enough to dart back into the bathroom, but someone was holding the door open and he was caught again. He switched defense methods from his hands to his feet, kicking at the orderly who held him, who was easily lifting him off of the ground like a child, and anyone else who came too close. Mom was sobbing again, Dad was yelling at him to stop, Doctor Green was rummaging through a canvas bag.
She came up with something small in her hand. “David, get his feet!” The other assistant dove at him, wrapping his arms around William’s ankles and holding them too tightly for him to keep kicking. His arms and legs were held, and his teeth were too far from anything to be of much use. William thrashed against the collective grasp of his restrainers, but didn’t make any headway. Then he saw what was in the doctor’s hand. A small hypodermic needle, filled with some sort of clear liquid. He fought harder, desperately hoping that he could knock over the man who was holding him.
She jabbed forward so quickly that he didn’t have time to react. Immediately the house was quiet. William looked down openmouthed to see her hand triumphantly holding the syringe, the needle making a tiny crater in his upper arm, pushing down the plunger to send some unknown substance into his bloodstream. He looked back up to Doctor Green. As triumphant as her hand was, her face said that she was sorry.
He tried to hold onto his fury as the sedative trickled through his body, met his heart and was pumped furiously to his brain in a matter of seconds. He’d had to study tranquilizers before, for a report on elephant poaching in Asia. He’d never guessed that he himself would have to experience the feeling of a slowing heartbeat, a relaxing body, dulling emotions. He could sense some of the tension lifting as the immediate physical danger that he’d posed disappeared.
William felt more tired than anything. David and the other aide, the one who’d been holding him up, carefully put him down. He blinked a couple of times. Everyone was still staring at him and he still had enough control of his mind to feel embarrassed. He still knew why he didn’t want to go with Doctor Green, only, he didn’t much care any more, and he was so tired. So tired. William started heading down the hallway to his room, eyelids drooping, not much caring at all about what he was supposed to be doing or where he would be going, just wanting a nice long nap under some warm blankets.
“Where are you going?” The doctor took his elbow. He paused for a second, swaying on his feet.
“I’m going to bed.” His voice was slurred sleepily, and he took another step, holding onto the wall with one hand to support himself. He could hear the orderlies behind him mumbling something about dosage.
“No, William. You can sleep once we get to the center. Mrs. Tell, are you going to come to the facility with us? No? Well, I suppose that’s all right…Can you find his shoes for me? And does he have a jacket somewhere? It’s very cold outside.”
Mom squeezed past them in the narrow hallway, moving probably to the front closet, because that was where all the things the doctor had asked for were.
“But I wanna sleep now,” he complained, trying to resume the too-long journey to bed and sleep.
“It won’t be long,” she told him soothingly. He accepted this, though to be fair, he would have accepted nearly anything anybody had said at that point. Mom showed up with his shoes, and he had to sit down on the floor like a child, in order to pull them on with his fumbling, sleepy fingers. Mom helped him get his jacket onto his arms.
When he’d turned around to leave, as the doctor was, his mother touched his arm. “William?”
He turned again to face her. Her arms were stretched out for a hug, and he fell into them hazily, leaning most of his weight on her. He barely even minded how she he felt her sniffling into his hair, how she squeezed him so tightly that the thought his arms would break. He felt like a little kid again, being sent to some sort of summer camp. His suppressed brain tried to remind him that the center wasn’t the type of place where he’d make lanyards and swim in the lake, but he didn’t bother to listen. Mom was soft and warm and it was easy to forget everything else. Mom.
Too soon, he watched Dad slowly pull her away from him, but he had a vague impression, a feeling of distance, like he was just watching some sort of play where the actors said, “Here, stand in the middle,” and performed around him, using him as a prop. Nothing felt real, everything indistinct.