An Ethan Dolan fanfic
"I was drowning, but nobody hear me scream."
"The Deep End?"
I nodded in shock.
"Good book." She smiled
This story is to promote suicide awareness, and if you feel depressed or have any suicidal thoughts, please call the suicid...
(This chapter is gonna be in Ethan's POV. Trust me, it gets a little spicy in this one 😏)
Ethan's POV It's finally Friday. Usually, when you're in here, you can't really keep up with time nor care what day it is. But I do; I have a clock and a calendar full of "schedules." Monday's, Wednesday's, and Friday's I have sessions with y/n. Every other day, except for Saturday's, I have sessions with Dr. White. Saturdays are the only days when I don't get interrogated by everyone. Plus, I get to sleep in.
Every single day, I have to get up around 7:00am and eat breakfast with all the other patients. Dr. White let's me take my meal into my room sometimes, only because she's convinced that I get even more depressed when I'm around people with the same issue.
Honestly, I just don't want to be with others. I don't want to deal with sitting in the wrong spot or having people stare at me when I hack at my food, wishing it was me. I can't deal with other peoples bull shit. That's why I'm always alone. It's just easier that way.
The staff tries to get me to interact with the other patients, but I don't. We have an arts and crafts "session" everyday after lunch. They just basically make you cut stuff out and color it. Apparently that's their way of getting me to interact; but it almost never works. But it did only of couple times.
I met a nice lady once. Her name was Veronica; she was very pretty and funny. She had dark brown hair (that sometimes looked black) that fell all the way down to her lower back. She had beautiful blue eyes, that would change color on occasion, and nice lips. Her skin was smooth and clear; and her smile was amazing.
She would wear makeup sometimes; though she looked absolutely gorgeous without it. I never really knew how or why they let her bring makeup in a mental hospital. I mean, usually they take most of your belongings; but it's whatever.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Veronica was 16 and she seemed a little too happy to be in a mental hospital, so I asked her about it once. She said that her father was sexually abusing her and her sister for years, until she cracked. She tried to kill him when he was asleep after wanting to touch her little sister. She made too much noise I guess, and failed.
Veronica said that if you plead for insanity, when in trial, then you'll be put in a mental hospital; much like this one. We grew a little attached, though I never talked much about why I ended up here.
In all honesty, I really only talked to her a few times before she left, but I didn't know where she went. Sometimes I have to remind myself that not everyone stays in here forever; though I might as well be.
It sucks because she was so nice, and patient. She started talking to me when I tried to slit my wrist with scissors when no one was looking. She said that I was too pure to die so early, and that I should try to get out so I can be truly happy. After that, we became friends and obviously she never let me touch scissors since.
