Wasted

1

"Lane!" All I could here was my name being screamed out by different people. I really didn't know why until I realized something, I was unconscious. I couldn't open my eyes, I felt as if I was dying. Then I heard sirens.

The last thing I remember is waking up in an ambulance and I began to scream, there were three people trying to get me stable. I remember the needles being jabbed into my arms and the blood pressure cuff squeezing the life out of me. They began to ask me questions but I continued to scream, I didn't want their questions. I didn't want anything. I wasn't doing anything violent, all I was doing was screaming. It's all I felt I could do. Mostly I was scared and confused. Who were these people, and why were they asking who I was?

When I arrived at the ER I was rushed to a room and I heard my stomach was going to be pumped. But, why? I attempted to speak but every time I opened my mouth nothing came out. My throat was burning, my vision was blurring, and I couldn't breathe. I was dying. Sadly, it didn't bother me.

I was puking now, as all the pills came up it burned me. My memory slowly came back to me as I continue to vomit my guts out. I cringed every time and tears flowed down my face. I was pumped up with fluids and questioned by what seemed like millions of people. I was groggy and in pain. They wouldn't leave me alone, wanted to make sure I didn't try to off myself again I guess. Eventually, the inevitable happened, a stretcher appeared in the door frame of the room I was in. I was helped up and helped back down into the stretcher. I didn't speak a single word the entire drive. We arrived at some place called Avery Behavioral Health Hospital. I had never been here before. I looked at the lady sitting next to me. "Why am I here?" I asked her, my voice barely audible. She looked away from her papers and down at me.

"You attempted suicide," She told me. "this is where a bed was open. You're going to get help and find the root of why you did this."

"What if I don't want help?" I looked down at my hands. She didn't answer me. They rolled me out and into this huge building, and they brought me to the third floor. The place was huge, rooms lined the hallways and the nursing station was smack in the middle. A dining area was right outside the nursing station and at the end of the left hallway a huge room called the day room. After I got off the stretcher a lady took me into a room and made me strip off my clothes, she searched me, then I put them back on. She asked me lots of questions, I simply said yes or no and gave a little explanation when needed.

"Are you suicidal at the moment?" she asked me. She barely looked at me.

"Yes," I replied blankly. She then looked up, her eyes looked kind.

"Rate it on a scale of 1-10."

"78." She opened her mouth to say something then closed it. She looked worried.

"Repeat that."

"I said 78, or should I just say I broke the scale?" I was honestly trying to sound nice but it was so hard when I didn't want to be here. She wasn't my problem, she honestly looked really nice. She asked a few more questions then showed me to my room. It was white, big and white. There was a built-in closet, a desk and chair, a bed, and a bathroom with a toilet sink and shower. How fancy.

"Stay here, and keep the door open," she told me and left, hesitantly. I looked up at the clock and it read 7:49, she told me the doctor left at 8. Was she going to get him? Was he going to ask me more questions? Dear god. I sat on the bed cross-legged and silent waiting for something to happen. I heard people moving about and doing things and muffled voices, then my name. I heard my name quite a few times but one voice was distinct, it was the one of a man. The doctor I assumed. I heard approaching footsteps, then standing in my doorway was a tall man with black hair and a suit. His whole appearance looked fake, like a mental breakdown waiting to happen. But, who am I to talk? 

"Hello," he said. "my name is Dr.Anders, and I will be your psychiatrist." He leaned against my doorway and smiled his perfect, expensive white teeth. I just looked at him for a moment until I spoke.

"I don't need you, I've done this before. What makes you think you're going to be any different." I said to him. He stood up straight and walked into my room and sat on my desk. He looked down at his hands then back at me. "Well?"

"Well... then you'll get out here mighty fast, won't you?" I was silent, he was playing with me. I never really liked games.