Fix Me // Jamilton

Chapter 6: Ambulances and Promises

TRIGGER WARNING: Self Harm and Hospital Stuff
- ALEXANDERS POV -
My eyes were shut tightly when Thomas told me he was leaving. As soon as we had got out of the shower, I felt terrible. But I tried to hide it. I didn't want to worry Thomas. It was the anxiety. If it got really bad, it made me horribly sick. I didn't want Thomas to see this side of me, so I tried to hold it back. But it didn't last long. I knew he could tell, the way he brought me all this stuff and went to get me food.

Oh God, I thought as my head pounded. I'm going to throw up. After thinking this, I stood up faster than I should have a practically sprinted to the bathroom. Leaning over the toilet, I threw up everything in my stomach. My head throbbed harder. God, I didn't take my meds yesterday. How stupid am I? I just want to cut. Wait. Thomas didn't put every knife in the safe. If I hurry...

No, Alexander. A voice in my head tells me. Thomas will find out. He'll be sad. He might be mad.

Do it! A louder voice tells me. Nobody loves you. You need to cut! The voice mocks me until I can't take it anymore. I pull myself up and walk to the kitchen. I grab a knife and lean over the sink. Slowly, I drag it across my arms, making thin cuts on the arm that isn't connected to my SoulMate.

"There! Are you happy yet?" I ask to that voice. I finally stop and clean the cuts a little. My head is still pounding. I'm going to be sick again. I lean over the sink, and vomit up more. I hear a door click and realize Thomas is home. I keep puking, realizing tears have been running down my face since I cut. Thomas doesn't hear me yet, and he calls my name.

"Alex? Love, I'm home. I have food!" He calls. He sounds a little worried. He walks into the kitchen and sees me there.

"Oh my God, Alexander!" He rushes to me and pushes my sweat covered hair off my forehead. He puts his hand there.

"Jesus Christ, you're on fire! What...? How did this...?" I continue to vomit put stop about halfway through his questions. My throat hurts so bad. This is horrible.

"A-anxiety meds. I didn't t-take them yesterday or today. I g-get sick a lot if I don't take th-them." I stutter clutching my head. It hurts SO bad.

"Alex, this is really bad. I think we might need to take you to a hospital. Alex? ALEX?" I can't hear him very well. Black dots cloud my vision, and the last thing I remember is Thomas yelping as I pass out.

*time skip to the hospital*

I blink my eyes open and stare at the white hospital ceiling. God, I hated it here. A doctor perks up when they realize I'm awake.

"Ah, Mr. Hamilton. I see you've awoken. Your SoulMate Mr. Jefferson will be very happy to hear that. You've been asleep for nearly 14 hours." She tells me. Her a metal says Dr. Martha Washington.

"Wha-" I stop talking. My throat hurts terribly and when I speak, it sounds very odd.

"What happened?" Dr. Washington asks. I nod.

"Well, you didn't take your anxiety medication and the anxiety made you sick. Since the amount of anxiety suddenly increased, your body reacted by making you physically ill." She explains. I nod in understanding and shudder a bit. It reminds me so much of the sickness my mother and I suffered through... it's hard to remember all of it, but I do remember white hot pain, everywhere.

I snap out of my memories when the door opens slowly. Thomas walks in, looking like he's about to cry.

"Alexander, you're ok." He lets a few tears slip. It breaks my heart. He hands me a pen.

"I know you can't really talk, but I thought maybe you could write on your arm?" He asks, hopeful. I nod my head, of course, and he smiles a bit.

"Do you know what happened?" He asked.