I Am Schizophrenic

Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

The feeling was weird; just to look like a complete crazy person in people’s eyes. How could it be? Derrick was obviously lying, or he wanted to scare me. I shouldn’t had trusted him in the first place anyway. All he did that he went to talk to my parents about that, about my ‘illness’.  He thought he was helping me..too bad he’s an idiot. I isolated myself from their conversations, going to the bathroom and picking up the sharp razor, and watch it penetrating my pale, cold skin slowly. Blood started to come out gradually, it started falling on the floor..looking like drops of water falling from the sky..falling to a hopeless desert, a desert which will never be slaked even if all the rain fell on it. A hopeless land with hardhearted people who live on it, people who don’t know the value of hearts and feelings. See..those drops of my innocent blood became a metaphor. So when will they care? When will they value those drops of blood which are wasted? But I won’t satisfy them. I won’t let them see me fail, I needed to be strong. A storm of guilt filled me, then I picked up a tissue and dried my blood. I will stand for them. Let them see what will the Schizophrenic girl do.

I went downstairs, with a blank face and strong eyes. My parents and Derrick stood quickly when I approached. I looked at them for a second and then said;

“What do you want me to do?”

Mother looked at Father with hopeful eyes, smiled at me and said “Tina, honey. Teenagers have issues sometimes, which make them…you know create events and people in their minds. Doesn’t make them crazy, no, no. but it makes them…”

I interrupted her, continuing her sentence by “Schizophrenic?”

She looked at me then said “No, dear. It just makes them different somehow..but there are always solutions! There are people who listen for those teens and help them with their problems.”

I looked at her blankly again and said “More like psychiatrists.”

My father came to me and put his hands on my shoulders and said “No, baby. Don’t take it this way, they just help.”

I shrugged and told them “I’m not convinced that I’m ill. I’m just talking to you now to know what do you want me to do. Not surrendering to the situation, no. but being reasonable.”

Derrick started to talk and said “Tina, just try to talk to the therapist. Give it a shot! You won’t lose anything.”

I looked at him in a disgusting and disappointed look and quickly replied with “Thank you, you needn’t to interfere in our family conversations. You were welcomed and I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He looked embarrassed, looked at the ground and started to move saying “Excuse me.” then he headed to the door and left.

“Tina..” mother started.

I got angry and said “You know what? Sarah was right, it’s MY choice.”

They looked at each other shockingly and said “Sarah?”

“Yes. I visited her the night of my accident.” I explained.

A storm of silence filled the room, exchanging looks to one another. My mother put her hand on her mouth disappointedly and said “We need to make an appointment with the therapist now.”  Then Father nodded and they both left the room.

I didn’t know what I had said to make them so determined now. They insisted on taking me to the therapist. I sat helplessly on the couch crying, thinking of how horrible I felt, and how scared I was. I felt a hand touching my hand tenderly, I looked up and it was the girl—young Christina. I was freaked out, my breaths were harder than before. She looked at me with my wide, innocent eyes. She patted on my hands, then looked at me and said “Don’t cry.”

“You wanted me to kill myself.” I told her in a blaming voice.

“She told me to tell you so.”

“Who?”

“Darkened. She beats me up with her cane every day, and she gives me a candy when I tell you to kill yourself.”

I was shocked by what she was saying. But I quickly left the room and went somewhere else, to avoid her. To avoid all this. Please, fade away.

Two days later, they actually took me to the therapist. They insisted, I gave up on trying to win. Arrived at the building, the therapist’s place looked calm and nice. Tyler had drove us to the therapist and left, so it was my mother and I only there. We sat quietly until we were called to enter the office, a woman in her forties was sitting on a desk—she was elegant, and her face had something nice—pureness, maybe. She smiled as we entered, and told us to have a seat. Then my mother dismissed because I had to be alone with the therapist. Silence occurred between us, then she started talking in a friendly;

“My name is Dr. Samantha Collins. And when we become close friends, you can call me Sam.”

She freaked me out,  I wasn’t even convinced by the idea of a therapist, as I’m not ill! But you know…parents.

“Nice to meet you.” I murmured.

“And you’re Christina, right? Or likely to say ‘Tina’.” She said with a kind smile. The woman was friendly, but I hated the fact.

I nodded.

“Well, Tina. Tell me about yourself! I’m a very good listener.”

Weird; that was becoming interesting.

I spent for like fifteen minutes telling her about myself, about my hobbies, school, family…etc.  She listened carefully to me, and I thought she would be holding a notebook and writing down everything I say, but she proved me wrong.

“What about your friends? Who’s your best friend?”

I silenced for a minute, getting nervous and scared then I replied “I have Ellen, I know her since I was seven.”

“Great! Who else?”

“Jake..” I replied with a really low voice.

“Tell me about him!”

“He’s nice, kind, friendly..”

“I see. So, you guys exchange visits? He visits you and you visit him?”

“He visits only…”

“Why don’t you visit him as well!?”

I didn’t reply.

“Is he handsome?”she said winking her eye to me. I knew she was trying to make me spill out.

“Yes.”

“Do you guys have a thing for each other?” she asked, smilingly.

Didn’t reply again. Just stared at her blankly.

“Never mind. Is he the reason for those scars on your arm?” she smartly asked me. she saw the scars, was intelligent from her. I felt so uncomfortable and I really wanted to leave.

“I’ll leave.” I said as I stood up. She didn’t react, she looked at me kindly as the start, then she said;

“You’ll come back later, Tina.”

I left and closed the door behind me, I told my mother that I wanted to leave. She kept asking me how it went with her, I said ‘good’ and ‘nice’. Didn’t give her much details, it didn’t feel right. A part in me feared the lady, a part of me didn’t want to know the truth, a part of me was…Schizophrenic.