Pessimistic [Completed]

19

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The shrill sound was painful to listen to, but it was all he could hear, apart from the occasional mumbling (whether or not it was his, he had no idea.) It went on endlessly, beeping more than every second.

It was a suprise to hear anything though. He barely remembered what had happened that he'd ended up here.

Wherever here was. Probably a hospital.

His neck hurt like hell. His head pounded in synch with every beat of his heart. His breathing felt labored, forced.

He struggled to open his eyes, half conscious, probably half dead. The light burned against his eyelids so all he could see was a peachy crimson.

The room was white. White bed, white walls, white window, white. It was almost blinding.

It smelled sickeningly like chemicals. The air was stale and unmoving, cold on his skin.

Bandages were wrapped around his arm and neck, dry blood still lingering on his fingertips.

Disgusting.

He had somehow survived, and the mess he'd made of himself was, well, a mess.

"Fuck." He croaked. His throat was hoarse and sore. His mouth tasted like he'd gargled his own blood. It was disgusting, gag worthy.

He tried to move his arm, but the pain was more than it was worth.

He felt like he'd been spun on a merry-go-round for hours, his head was spinning violently. He could barely get his thoughts together.

After a while, the door opened with a pig-like squeal. A doctor came in to check on him. They talked about something, he wasn't sure what though. He was too dazed. And shocked. Could you be dazed and shocked at the same time? Was that just confusion? Who knew.

"I've asked your friends about what happened, but I'm sure I'd get a better picture if you explained. Do you think you'd be comfortable talking about it?" The doctor sat down on one of those spinny doctor chairs, the circle ones with no back. They held their clipboard in front of them, pen ready.

"I'm not sure I remember everything." His voice was near silent, but it appeared the doctor heard just fine.

"What do you remember?" The doctor had a voice like the salesmen in those late night cable commercials. "Do you know how this happened?"

"I think I was sitting around when I had an idea, and I tried to do something." Talking was painful, but he kept going. "I think I tried to hang myself or something, hit my head."

The doctor's pen scribbled onto the paper, his expression unchanging. "Why? What led you to do this?"

"Shit was happening. I was being an asshole." His head wasn't spinning as much, and he was able to think easier. "I had a couple of arguements. My boyfriend broke up with me, which I deserved. Really wasn't thinking much."

The doctor nodded in the most 'Get me away from this freak' type of way. "What about the cuts on your arm? Did you do that?"

"Yeah. I deserved it." Pico glanced at the dressings on his arm, covering the shredded skin underneath.

"Alright. I'll come back later for follow up questions." The doctor stood up, the chair rolling backwards, wheels rolling loudly, until it stopped less than a moment later. "By the way, you have visitors. Would you feel comfortable with me letting them in, or would you like to wait?"

"Send them in, I guess." He hoped they wouldn't be mad. Nene would probably be pissed.

"Alright, I'll go out and speak to them and you'll be able to talk to you shortly." The doctor left the room without another word.

There was some sort of talking outside of the room, a couple different voices. He couldn't help but worry that they were all complaining about him, possibly in posh british accents.

The door opened, allowing him to see the hallway for less than a second.

Three people came in. Although his vision was blurry, he could tell who. Nene, Darnell, and to his (slight) surprise, Keith.

Darnell looked the least shaken of the three, but still more shaken than anyone should ever be.

Keith sat down on the stool that the doctor was on just minutes ago, not daring look at the man on the bed. He wrapped his sweater covered arms around himself like he was cold.

Nene stared at him, practically rolling on her heels. Darnell sat in a chair by the windowsill.

"Hi." Pico's voice rasped.

"Pico." Nene sighed. "I just don't understand."

"Naturally."

"This really isn't the best time for jokes, if you couldn't tell, with you in a hospital bed of your own accord."

"Sorry." Why was he such a fuck up?

"I mean, I knew you weren't okay, but I didn't think you were this not okay. I thought it was just the break up, and that you'd get over it."

"I was being overly dramatic, I'm sorry. I'm fine."

"You literally tried to hang yourself from a fucking ceiling fan, and you're still going to try to tell me you're fine?" Nene was crying. "You're just lucky you didn't shoot yourself, you'd be dead."

"Didn't even occur to me." That was a lie. His gun had been missing at the time, so he couldn't have used it. Now that he thought about it, it had been missing since May. He just hadn't noticed.

"Please, just promise me you won't do that again." She squeezed his hand, making him wince.

"I'm pretty sure I'm traumatized for life, so I don't think I'll be trying anything." He was already joking about his own suicide attempt. That meant he was recovering, right?

"You'd better fucking not." She dropped his hand, making him wince again. She noticed his arm in bandages for the first time. "You really hid in your closet to do this?"

"You would have stopped me."

"Of course I would have, you're my best friend! Why did you do any of this?"

Pico couldn't think of an excuse. He couldn't lie to her anyways. "I deserved it."

"No, you didn't, and you don't!"

"I was an asshole."

"To yourself! If I had taken offense to anything you said, I would have told you! You didn't have to beat yourself up about it!"

"I was a jerk to everyone, and I didn't even apologize."

"So what was that note, spare thought? I can't with you right now, Pico. You really aren't as bad as you think, and you need to understand that."

He was waiting for Keith to tell her otherwise. He'd been horrible to him.

But Keith didn't. Rather, he sided with Nene. "She's right, you know." His voice was quiet, like he'd screamed for hours. "You aren't all bad. I mean, you have better morals than me."

Pico didn't look at him still. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done any of this."

Keith stood up and whispered something in Nene's ear.

"Darnell, is there anything you'd like to say before we go?" Nene stared at him.

"I don't know. I really didn't think this could happen, but it did. I guess I'm sorry." He stood up and gave an awkward wave as he left the room with Nene.

Keith sighed, pulling the chair closer to Pico. "I'm just really sorry.