Therapy - Septiplier

One

Jack stared out the window as he sat on the old vents that hardly pushed any heat into the psych ward, though it was still the warmest spot within the freezing hospital. He watched people boarding the local bus across the street through two thick slabs of glass that was meant to be hard to break. He was on the third level and the only thought that crossed his mind while he looked down at the small people on the ground was, 'I wish I could jump to my death.'

He didn't try to push the suicidal thoughts away anymore, not after that day. It took everything in him not to let the tears accidentally fall down his cheeks or let the panic build up enough to break his code of silence. He could never talk about what happened that day, not to anyone.
"Sean, breakfast is here. Would you like to eat?" A nurse asked, stepping up to him. He shook his head, knowing one of his many medications were trying to help keep him from starving himself to death, so he didn't eat. "You have to eat something."
No response.
"Okay, let's check in now," The nurse, Abby, sighed, grabbing a pocket-sized notebook and small pen out from her back pocket and handed it to him. "Write down your responses as always, Sean."
No response.

"How are you feeling today on a scale of one to ten, ten being awesome, one being suicidal."
1.
"Have you had thoughts of harming yourself or others, or have you thought about suicide?"
Yes.
"What's your goal for the day?"
To see at least one person smoking outside to try and satisfy my desperate need for a cigarette.
He handed it back to her and she reviewed his responses. A sad frown crossed her face and she looked at Jack with sorrowful eyes. She wanted to reach out to him, have him reach out to her, she wanted to do anything to help him, but it seemed he was too far gone to be saved.

"We'll keep a close eye on you today, okay? Do you have a prescription for nicotine gum?" She asked and he silently nodded. "I'll get you a piece, I have to get your medication anyhow."
He wanted to say thank you to her for being so kind before she walked away, but he couldn't bring himself to speak and, therefore, remained silent. He hated his silence, but whenever he tried to speak, no words would come. It was as if he was trapped in his body, begging to come out, but he had been trained to remain silent with a gag in his mouth for many hours. He could only scream whenever it was removed. The hours of torture caused his body to prevent him from speaking. He was trapped behind blue eyes.

"The doctor suggested we narrow down your medication, so your body isn't overwhelmed. It seems the prozac for depression, panic disorder, OCD, and bulimia nervosa wasn't working for you and neither was the atarax for anxiety, so he's hoping lexapro will work better for your condition. It pretty much treats the same things, major depression, social anxiety, OCD, body dysmorphic disorder, and kleptomania. It simply takes a different path in your body. Are you okay with this change?" The nurse asked once she returned. Jack nodded silently and she scanned his medical bracelet and the little plastic package that contained one tiny, white pill.
'How is one little pill supposed to help me?'

"If you come up to the front desk to get some water to take your medication, I can get your nicotine gum right away," She bribed him. If he wasn't craving it so much, he would've remained in his comfortable corner by the window. He slowly made his way out of his spot, feeling out of place. Other patients would look at him, pity in their eyes. It made him shiver. He followed the nurse up to the front desk and grabbed a small cup. He then picked up one of the two liters of water and poured it, his heart feeling heavy as he watched the nurse open the tiny, plastic package. She poured the small pill into his hand and he took a swig of water before tossing the pill in and swallowing it with the cold liquid. He barely felt it sliding down his throat and already knew it wasn't any use. He was broken beyond repair and his anxiety was too high. He felt as though he were dying.

"Just have to scan your bracelet one more time," The nurse smiled and Jack let her scan it before getting his gum. She had a little difficulty getting the tinfoil top off the wrapper, but finally managed and slid the gum out into Jack's hand, who tossed it in his mouth once it hit his palm. He chewed it a bit before letting it rest in his cheek, allowing the nicotine to absorb and seep into his system. "Thank you, Sean. I'm proud of you for getting out of that corner. One step at a time, alright? Don't go retreat back into your room again because I know you can beat this, don't lock yourself up."

He gave her a weak smile and nodded. He still couldn't find the strength to speak and he knew that he wasn't going to listen to the advice, but he could at least pretend that he would try. He turned and walked away from the front desk, going back to his corner by the window. He went back to watching the people outside, the minty gum making his throat feel dry, but he had no use for his throat without his voice, so he couldn't bring himself to care. He was beginning to lose himself with thoughts of what life could have been when someone tapped his shoulder and he flinched, snapping his head towards whoever poked him.

"Hi, I'm Cry!"