Held Tight by Someone I Know

End.

[A/N: Okay! I'm so so sorry for the late update! I know I promised that this chapter would be done in a week or two since the last chapter, but obviously I haven't kept my word. Anyway! Enjoy the last chapter! Btw. I've put a song up the top called 'Flickers' by Son Lux. Play it as you read. It sets the mood]

What next? What else could possibly be set for my life? Will I ever leave the rehabilitation institutional ward and move on from my life?
So many questions, but I suppose in this manner, I don't have little time. I have a lot of time to answer my own questions.
But, perhaps time is just a perception of doing. We 'need to get things done In this amount of time', but does time really exist? Why do we rely so much of our life on time?

What is time?

Sure, you have some numbers and a colon, then you have the sun and the wind. Our time can ether be analog or digital, clockwise or anti-clockwise, sunrise or sunset, east wind or west wind. But, does all of that really matter?

I personally believe that time is just a number. A goalset.

'I will get the laundry done at 4:30 pm.'

Is that the time you want to do the laundry? Or is that just a goalset.

'I will get the laundry done at this set of numbers to use as my goalset.'

I guess if you really think about it, there's no such thing as time. Clocks can go tick tock but can your body run on an analog metronome?
It really makes you think, doesn't it?

What the ever loving fuck is time?

It's time to get out of here.

Daddy visits me. Everyday for the past two weeks I've been in here.
Jimmy does too, he was supposed to go back to Palmsdale a week ago, but he refused; saying he's not going anywhere until I leave this place.
I'm fine, really. There's nothing wrong with me, I'm just emotionally, directionally inept. Nothing new here.

I study the cards in my hand as the clock ticks on the wall of the rec room.

Tick. Tock. Time to Stop.

"Bet." I smile at daddy as I hand in five chips.

"Five. Hit me." He pushes in five chips himself and deals me another card. I count a king of spades, a queen of hearts and an Ace of clubs.

"Black Jack." I say as I fold over my cards. Dad throws his cards down as I grab my fifty chips and drag them towards me.

"Looks like you're all out of chips, sir."

"Yeah, no thanks to you, peach!" He said, pulling a frowny face.

"Oooo! Someone's a sore loser."

"Smart ass."

"Wanktard." He laughed his contagious laugh and checked his phone.

Checking for the time.

"We're gonna go to the medical ward and see Dr. Reeves about that medication in a minute." I nodded, not showing any emotion. What was there to show?

"I know what you're thinking, baby girl. I don't want this to happen to you either, but the sooner he prescribes us these meds, the sooner we can check you outta here."
I nodded, completely understanding.
"Let's go." He said, flicking his head. I nodded and got up, smoothing out my gown and playing with the platform name band around my wrist.

He held out his hand for me to hold, which I took gradually and I followed him to the medic ward.

"MPD."