You Know The Night EDITING

Decisions

Maybe it’s the way I talk that scares them, maybe it’s the way I look at them that frightens them. They can barely speak or nod when it’s their turn to respond. But I know they’re listening. I know that they are taking in everything I have to say and writing it down in their clipboards. But they are still here listening to my pity parties. They know everything, from the late nights at the cemetery, the though dark thoughts, my curiosity on how it feels to die and feel no more, and the suicide attempt.

They knew the story but they didn’t know my internal battle. The one where I still do wish I had sweet death, to long for a place where I felt no more. Where I craved to not wake up every morning and be here. It’s psychological they said, it’s all in my head. I know this already, but they don’t understand that. They don’t know that one’s greatest enemy isn’t the whore who steals your man, your older brother, your drug problem. One’s true worst enemy is themselves and it’s also ones best friend.

It’s a shit hole inside my head now and I’m writing it to you. I miss you, and I wish you were here. Sometimes when the lights flicker in the room I wonder if that’s you. Remember when they would flicker in my room and id cry, you’d lay there with me and watch them flicker until they stopped and told me it was just a little wire misconnection in the ceiling? I think I have a wire disconnection too, maybe that’s why I’m this way. But it’s alright, they come and go as you would say.

That makes me happy and makes this a whole lot easier, Dad. That a little disconnection isn’t so bad sometimes. That sometimes you got to let it flicker and have its take its time to let it fix itself. I’m sure that’s what I’m going to do since the doctor says I have to do a lot of reflection to get better. It wouldn’t hurt to try but I’m already dreading these meetings with a child therapist they have been talking about.

I love you dad, more than ever and I wish you were here. Keep the lights flickering?  Makes me feel safe.

Melody.

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"Can we take her home?"

Candace wouldn't say she was tired or even a bit upset. She would have to keep her poker face through it all. She watched Max silently crumble through the psychiatric talks as even the orientation to the family counseling they would have to go through for Melody’s sake. Candace knew of the proper care her little sister would need and that alone kept her from breaking. One thing medical school taught her was how to separate her emotions from business.

"We don't recommend it. “

Dr. Harrison had said it countless times to the young woman who had done nothing but ask for all the paperwork to read it herself. She had already created a name for herself around the hospital as the pesky older sister whose dream was world peace.

“I’m not asking for your opinion. I want to take her home. “

Doctor Harrison had no idea what to say, she knew Candace Flores was a tough cookie but she didn’t know the girl was basically made out of steel.She held her head held high and kept her cool. No sight of a crumbled cookie was in the ambitious Candace.

“We think its best if she goes into a home where she could be watched 24/7 by doctors and have daily access to a therapist when she needs to talk. “

Candace had understood the routine of suicide attempts. She had been trained for this in her first two years of medical school. But never once did she think she would be the ones making such decisions for her own family members.

“Look, Shes my little sister and I know whats good for her and my family. Ive worked through the paper work and we think having a private family therapist would be best. “ Candace informed