We All Have a Story to Tell || v.f. ~COMPLETED~

1.2

/ SCARLETT /

lyric-

when i close my eyes

and try to sleep

i fall apart

i find it hard to breathe

--

"Come on in, Scarlett," the doctor called.

I reluctantly got up from my seat out in the hall and entered his office, closing the door behind me. I didn't bother asking before plopping down into the couch.

"How are you feeling today, Miss Marlowe?"

I raised my eyebrows. "I'm not gonna respond to that name. ...But I'm all right, I guess. I've felt fairly welcome so far."

"Good, good," he said. "I'm Dr. Moore, and I'm the psychiatrist here. I'll be talking to you every other morning to build up to your release. Once I and the staff feel you're ready to go home, we'll release you."

I nodded. "Cool."

I wasn't really interested in the way things worked around here. I really only cared about getting better and getting out. I asked my parents to have me admitted into here. I wanted to be here. I wanted to get better. I couldn't say the same for my fellow patients, though, and that was a little depressing. But I was used to the depressing truth of reality.

"Do you know what triggered this?" Dr. Moore asked.

"No," I quickly replied. "I'm just really stressed. Even though there's nothing to be stressed about." I chuckled pathetically. "I'm just weak."

"No, now that's not true."

I shrugged. "Prove it to me."

"You were strong enough to have yourself admitted to a mental hospital, Mis- Scarlett."

I wanted to roll my eyes, but he was right, so I just sighed. "With all due respect, i don't see us getting anywhere until I learn to decipher my feelings. We're gonna learn that in group sessions, right? So why don't we try this again Saturday?"

He laughed and wrote some things down in his notebook. "Yeah, go on. Head on to the Day Room."

I didn't need to be told twice. I hurried out, moving my hair somewhat out of my face. I hated therapy. I always talked to multiple people about my issues, so I didn't need to talk anything out. Therapy was pointless for me.

Everyone but the boy from before was already in the Day Room. I took a seat in the circle that the chairs were set up in.

Mystery Boy quickly followed - I had no idea where he came from - and sat beside me.

"Nice of you two to join us," Mr. Kelly said. "All right, let's get started. I'm Mr. Kelly, and I work night and morning shifts during the week. Since we got so many new patients last night, we'll all introduce ourselves and say why we're here. Let's start here, with you." He looked to Mystery Boy.

He crossed his arms and slouched in the chair with a sigh. "I'm Vic, I'm seventeen, and I'm here for cutting too deep." Vic. Short for Victor. Yeah, Vic suits him much better. I like it.

"Tell us why," Mr. Kelly said.

"Well," Vic began, "I've been cutting for five years now. Got scars all on my thighs. A few faded ones on my arms. It's not really brought on by anything. I'm just sick."

I looked up at him with curiosity. It was the exact same for me. I'd never met anyone that had the same type of depression as me, especially not with such detail. Five years. I started when I was eleven. I'd heard about it at school, and because I was so numb, I had to feel something. I needed to feel something. Physical pain was the easiest and quickest way to feel something.

"Next?" Mr. Kelly pulled me from my thoughts, and I quickly looked at my lap, fiddling with the hem of my sweatshirt.

"It's cold in here," I mumbled. A few people laughed. "Uhm, my name is Scarlett. I had myself admitted because I felt really suicidal and didn't trust myself. Oh, and, uh, I'm sixteen. Uhm, I've basically always been suicidal. I remember once when I was really young I told my mom I'd rather be dead than throw up ever again. I said it twice more before I was even eight. But I never really realised that I was suicidal until this past year."

I didn't really expect reactions from anyone. We all knew what to expect. But I noticed Vic absentmindedly rubbing his bandages on his wrists. Hey... I didn't even notice those bandages until now.

He almost died. I couldn't imagine how scared his parents were. And he probably had a girlfriend that was freaked out about the whole thing.

I didn't find anything particularly interesting about the rest of the group. Alli (fourteen) was here because she tried to run away. Willow (seventeen) - the pretty girl with crimson hair - was here for the tenth time just because she had to keep coming back for her insurance to let her go to long term. Chris and his brother Jack (both fifteen) were both here for attempt of suicide. Sasha (fifteen) - the girl who wanted her salt and pepper - was here for anger because she threatened to kill her brother, although she didn't mean it. Tahlia (sixteen) - the girl who was actually having her blood drawn while Alli introduced herself to me - was here for taking one hundred Benadryl. And that was it.

These kids were actually pretty cool. I mean, really, I'd honestly expected some complete weirdos. Well, Vic seemed kind of weird, but in a good way. He was different. I liked different.

After the introductions, Mr. Kelly explained the rules to us. They were pretty basic. No pencils or sharp objects in our rooms, no venturing into the other units, no going to anywhere but your room and the Day Room without supervision, and no talking about sexual things. Simple. Easy.

Then he left us to socialise and play cards and stuff.

I looked at Vic. "Wanna play Black Jack?"

His face lit up. "Yes! I didn't think anyone here knew how to play that."

I smiled. He had really pretty eyes, and it was nice to see them light up.

"So, since you're not in here for actually trying to kill yourself," Vic said, "what's stopping you from doing it?"

I sighed and dealt out the cards. "Uhm..."

My reason for staying was this crazy hope that I could find someone to get better with, to fall in love with. I needed a love to heal me. It was crazy, but if it kept me alive... Well, why not?

But what would I tell him? That would scare him off, probably. I'd have to lie.

"Uhm," I said. "Well...uhhh... For my friend. We have this pact, y'know? At first, it was unspoken, but then I brought it up, and we agreed. If one of us leaves, so does the other. She's like my sister. I couldn't do this without her."

"Oh." He looked at his cards. "Yeah, that makes sense."

Maybe I'd ask him what kept him here, but I'd do that later. I was a little shaken from having to lie. Because in all honesty, there wasn't a single person on this earth for whom I would stay.