My New Home

59. Numb I (3rd Person)

~ Hey guys! These next two or three chapters will be in third person! It's for a specific reason of course (I'm a clever mastermind after all): Carrie's numb. Her mind is kind of blank almost. She's shut down :,) ~

Carrie sat in her hotel bed, uncomfortable on the unforgivingly hard bed.

It didn't help that she didn't sleep last night- not at all. Even though she was more tired than she ever has been in her whole life.

The drugs, whatever the fuck they gave her, made her sleepy and feel like shit.

They didn't allow her to leave the room- expect for the monitored bathroom trips. It was because of the loopy drugs and her busted leg, and she understood why. She couldn't walk.

Even with the damn drugs, she felt pain everywhere and nothing would help it. Maybe it wasn't bad as it be without the meds but- nothing could compared to the mental pain she was going through.

She didn't get any sleep the night before: she was exhausted but her body wouldn't let her fall asleep. She was filled with thoughts, thoughts she hated but couldn't show it.

Here she was, stuck in the hospital bed when her Dr. Peters came in, the signature doctor smile plastered on his face.

"Hey kiddo!" The older doctor said excitedly.

Carrie, on the other hand, was less than thrilled.

She didn't hate the doctor man but she wasn't the biggest fan of him either.

He was happy and smiling...all the time. Sometimes it wasn't even the real kind; sometimes he puts it on to make his patients feel like everything will be okay, but it won't be.

Not for Carrie.

She didn't feel okay. She was also sure she didn't look it judging by the momentary slip of his smile. He looked concerned for the poor girl.

She hated the pity. She hated being here.

She wanted to go home yesterday but she knew she couldn't face her brothers just yet.

Not Owen's outbursts.

Not Benji's sadness.

None of it. She couldn't handle it.

"How ya feeling?" Dr. Peters asked, standing beside her bed.

She shrugged. "Fine."

He sighed and tapped his clipboard. "It's alright not to be alright, kiddo. You went through some stuff no kid- heck no one should."

She shrugged again.

She was sick of talking about what happened with her dad. And she hasn't explained it to anyone yet! Not her foster dad Hank, not Eric, and certainly not officer Nevaeh.

She secretly wishes she never has to say his name again, talk about what happened to her. She wishes she could bury her trauma forever and never look bad.

Why has her life been a never-ending pile of dog shit, with the occasional bit of relief?

Doesn't she deserve a happy ending?