The Patient

Ten

Getting back into therapy wasn't too difficult once I accepted I needed help. I still. think they were overreacting with the whole Thirty-Two thing, but I do have a problem with depression and anorexia... 

I went through this a lot, as well as anxiety after my parents died. We were all in a car crash together and I was the only one to survive. 

I got hurt really badly and even died for a couple minutes but because of my youth I had amazing resilience and managed to bounce back. I wasn't left with any long-term problems but I spent months in therapy learning how to walk again. 

The worst part is that I somehow lost all my memories. I have no recollection of anything before the accident. I was still able to talk and complete basic human tasks but I can't remember anything about my parents, I didn't even recognize my grandma when she came to pick me up... 

I know I loved them and I know I miss them, but I don't know what I miss.

I got extreme anxiety every time I went in the car and took losing my memories really badly. It looks like my ability to make new long-term and short-term is perfectly fine, I just wish I could remember my parents, now I'll never have a chance to know them. 

They gave me exercises to help with my depression and I had a lot of therapy every day now. I'm eating again and am back to a healthy weight again. 

I've been working on myself for about 2 months now and I've made a crazy amount of progress. I don't know why I'm still locked up though... I'm not going to hurt myself or anyone else, I've been eating and my personality has returned but they keep me in here. 

I've been asking when I can leave for weeks now and they always just answer, "It should be soon, just keep up the great work!" 

Dr. Pat walked in again, same time as every day. She sat on her chair outside my cell and I sat against the wall facing her. 

She went over the same questions as every day, asking me how I'm doing, making sure I've been eating, have I been doing my exercises etc... 

I'm pretty much just dying of boredom at this point. These people need to let me out soon or I'll go crazy again for a completely different reason then I'll never leave.

I'm not even on anti-depressants anymore, I feel great, I'm not longer at any risk!

No, I'm not crazy. They always tell me I'm not crazy, I just needed a little help becoming myself again. 

"Well, everything looks perfect, as usual. I think you're my favorite patient now."

"Dr. Pat, please, when are you guys going to let me out? I'm sorry I keep asking but I don't understand why you're keeping me in here!" I exclaim in frustration. I feel a little bad for talking to her like that... 

"Everything looks good, you should be getting out of here soon, just keep up the good work!" She exclaimed with a smile before leaving. 

Oh my god. 

Its honestly starting to get really creepy...

The day went by and night rolled around, but instead of falling asleep I stayed up. I don't know why but something in me told me that I couldn't sleep right now. I started pacing the cell, ready for something, but I didn't know what. 

Suddenly I heard some sounds outside, they were quiet, barely noticeable but everything else was so silent I could make out quiet footsteps that got gradually louder. Someone was coming for me. 

Maybe it was Dylan or Kate! Maybe they were finally here to take me home! Maybe they finally convinced someone to let me out! I knew they'd come through for me. It took them a really long time though.