This is a spin-off of several works I have completed or are currently underway.
This series of short stories will follow a few of my characters through the rehabilitation process until they have their moment of clarity.
Some issues dealt with in thi...
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*trigger warning*
Much like the last time, I woke up in a hospital bed.
How can I fail to commit suicide twice in a row?
My vision was blurred, but I was able to make out a sleeping figure in the chair next to me.
That had to be Parker.
Or maybe it was Squirtle, and I'd finally snapped as far as my mental health goes.
After a few more blinks and adjustments, I saw that it wasn't Parker sleeping in the armchair, but instead Emmett.
It's just like Parker to leave his friend to do the dirty work.
A nurse came into the room, smiling when she saw me. "Hello, Lee. Do you remember our previous conversation?"
My throat felt hoarse as I tried to recollect meeting her before. "No," I answered, my voice raspy.
Emmett stirred the nurse's voice, his eyes popping open.
"Is it medicine time again?" Emmett mumbled.
And then his eyes landed on me.
"Oh, shit," he muttered.
"I want to go home," I said, quietly.
Emmett stood up. "I know, kid. Just answer the nurse's questions, okay?"
Much like the last time I'd been in the hospital after a failed suicide attempt, I felt broken.
Vulnerable.
Whoever this was had seen me at my lowest point. The nurse had seen my scars get bandaged up, again. She'd seen the evidence that it wasn't my first time.
She knew I was a repeat offender. A person who just couldn't commit the suicide he wanted to.
She asked the standard questions. She asked for my name, birthday, and age. She asked if I remembered how I ended up here.
I didn't.
She asked if I remembered any of our previous conversations.
I didn't.
And she asked if I was in pain.
I wasn't.
After that, she adjusted the IV in my arm and then promptly left.
No explanation was given as to how I got here. Just silence.
"I want to go home."
Emmett nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I'm sorry this keeps happening."
That didn't make sense. "Why are you sorry?"
This is my fault. Everything continued to be my fault.
