We All Have Our Scars

Chapter 16 - Dark red blood

"Well hello Mew, I see you're awake now." I heard the familiar, snarky, annoying voice sneer.

"Y-Yeah...I am." Lord, is my voice really that weak? The gunshot couldn't have weakened me that much. I mean did it really hit my neck that deep? I thought it was only a skim...oh well. I'll look in the mirror later first I just need to figure this hell-hole out first.

"Took ya long enough, but I guess it doesn't matter!" I heard the voice cackle, I weakly turned my head then winced, but ignored it. I needed to confirm my suspicions. I looked around at the pure white room, then at the male worker in pure white scrubs. My god, was white their favorite color? And it's not even a color, it's a shade. Logic bitches!

"Why the hell am I out here again?!" I snarled as I sat up, realizing I was back in the straight jacket. Yep, you guessed it. I'm back in the asylum.

"Why else would you be? Insane people belong in the insane asylum. Got it?" He spat at me, then giggled and laughed like a maniac; and I was the insane one? Lorrrrrrrd.

"I'm not the insane one!!" I practically screamed at him; I may be weak and restrained, but my voice held strength.

I watched as a smirk slightly crept onto his mouth, this was not going to be good. "Well, let us think, Mewlyn. What all have you done in your life? You have....?" He started the sentence off for me. I just stared at him, debating if I should go on or not, he's like the devil here in front of me; and trust me. He is not good looking. At all. "Well Mew?" He looked impatient, really impatient. "You have...? What have you done...? Just start from...when you were.....fifteen."

Ohhhhhh, great! Fifteen is the age I took a major turn in my life, and why should I tell him? I have no reason to, but I guess I will. "When I was fifteen I gave into shit and started cutting and burning, starving myself, shit like like that. Will you leave now?" I could feel my neck starting to hurt, and I was in no mood to share my pain with him.

"What have you been doing lately? Any....interesting things....happen?" He shifted, staring at my interestingly.

"Yeah, you fuckface. I beat myself up everyday, and last night I tried suicide. Happy?" I can't believe I just said that...shit.

"Oh Mewwwww....how did you do that?" He questioned and pressed on, but I thought it was obvious.

"I had a gun genius. Russian Roulette." I rolled my eyes and got up, noticing the glass of water.

He must've noticed me looking at it because he leaned over and picked it up, "Answer some more questions and I'll give you a drink." He smirked, and he must've thought I was desperate, but I really wasn't.

"Alright, ask away, bastard." I sat back down, my eyes darting through his in displeasure.

"Well, how come it skimmed your neck? Hmmmmmm?" I just realized the clipboard in his hand and he was writing....oh well. If they don't kill me I'll do it myself, or at least try...again.

"Because my hand started shaking from the blood loss, so I moved the gun away and my hand slipped. And well, oopsies poopsies!" I acted all stupid and childish, maybe I'll scare him off with my stupidity. "It skimmed my neck and I was out cold. Now here I am, waiting to get a simple drink of water so I can replenish myself."

"Alright, alright." He rolled his eyes, "You've given enough. Here's your water." He fed me the water and left.

Finally!! Now I was alone to my thoughts...I wondered what happened. Obviously Keegan would have found me...but I know he wouldn't have taken me back here. I hope not at least. My throat felt fine, but I felt horrible. I knew that I planned on telling Lyle everything, but...I got some text's. So I changed my mind and decided that enough was enough. Now here I am, more than likely the next day, sitting here in a strait jacket covered in bandages. Could this get any worse? No, probably not.