misfits · calum hood

day twenty-four

day twenty-four - feelings

☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹

I was still confused the day after Calum had told me to get in trouble in less than twenty-four hours. I still hadn't gotten in trouble; I wasn't even sure if I should. Steph told me to go for it but that would mean having to be alone with Calum. Any other day that would be great, but these days it would be probably awkward and plainly, terrible.

I was also confused why he had told me he loved me. I thought it was almost clear that he didn't love me, but maybe I was completely wrong. It just took me by surprise because that was not how I thought guys should propose their love to you. Maybe I was just in over my head, maybe I was stuck in the world of cliché that didn't actually happen. But, I didn't realize boys telling you they loved you included cockiness and a wink.

Depression was taking over me. I tried to be happy and I tried to laugh and smile when Steph would talk to me but nothing worked. It's not like I should have expected to be happy, because I had depression and I had learned to live with it. But it sucked and every single minute I wanted to cry and hide in my room that wasn't actually my room. I had to face it: sadness had filled my lungs and everyday was a stuggle to keep breathing.

☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹☹

I arrived at breakfast and Michael was already there. I was glad, maybe he could consult with me about the whole 'getting in trouble' situation. I didn't even have much time to do it, either, since Calum had proposed it be twenty-four hours or less.
I sat down next to Michael, and he offered me his hand again and I gladly took it. He grinned at me, and I forced a smile back.
He was opening his lips to talk to me when I cut him off. "Uh, Michael? Do you know any ways I can get in trouble in less than, like, twenty minutes?"

He arched an eyebrow, propping his head up with his hand on the table. "Why do you ask?" He questioned.

I chewed on my bottom lip, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. He put his free hand up, signalling me that is was okay. "Never mind, it's okay - um, here, I'll help you. There's tons of doctors in here so even if a bunch of them don't care if we break the no touching rule; one of them is bound to. So, like, stand up and make it obvious you're holding my hand or hug me or scream lyrics at the top of your lungs or maybe all three at one time?" Michael chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

I nodded, pulling him up with me as I stood up. Everyone looked at us with strange glances: people at our table, people at other tables, doctors. Then, I hugged Michael, plain out of the blue. And then into the crook of his neck I started to belt a Green Day song.

I could feel Michael's laughs into my shoulder. He was trying to muffle them but it wasn't exactly working. And he just kept laughing; he found my horrible rendition of Basket Case hilarious, obviously.

Michael was right, that was enough for doctors to crack. A few came rushing over, pulling us apart as we both continuing to giggle. It was the first time I had not forced a laugh in awhile, and it felt good. It was like the sound of me kicking depression's ass. Vicky, one; depression, zero.

A doctor pulled me away from Michael and basically dragged me out of the room as Michael wiggled his fingers at me. He was still laughing at me even after I left the room. Looking back, it wasn't really that funny, but to two depressed teenagers it was pretty damn hilarious.

Soon enough, I was at the punishment room. The huge one with the white walls. The memories in this room were both good and bad. I didn't realize what coming back here would trigger.

The doctor practically shoved me inside the room as I scowled at him and cursed under my breath. Weirdly enough, there were no doctors like there was before. According to Jimmy, who had been in some kind of trouble since the last time I had, said they refrained from putting doctors in that room anymore. Apparently, you were supposed to, like, let loose and let your feelings out because there must be some reason why you acted out and got in trouble. So it basically sounded like you could do whatever, from screaming at the top of your lungs to doing cartwheels across the room. And maybe that's exactly what Calum wanted.