The Suicide Club

✖️The Lifeguard✖️

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a/n: so this chapter is a little explicit. you have to imagine the amount of stress the characters are going through. of course they're gonna use 'bad language'. I honestly don't see what's wrong with these words. yes, there's a time and a place for them, but you should still be able to say them. They're just words.

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Chapter 13: The Lifeguard

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The Silent Girl

While I was at the hospital, they made me go to therapy. Most days, the therapist would come into my room and talk to me. The day that changed my life was in that room. Room 302. I was lying down on my bed in an oversized sweater and nothing else besides underwear, of course. I had always been ashamed of my scars and bruises on my legs, but everyone in the hospital already knew I had them, so why not?

My therapist was a middle aged woman named Pamela Robinson. She told me to car her Pam. She had dark brown, curly hair that reminded me of chocolate. Her brown eyes had the same effect on me, and her kind smile had a warming and affectionate feeling on you. I assumed that was what motherly affection felt like. Nevertheless, I refused to open up to her. Someone who was paid to listen to my problems didn't deserve to know me like that.

"So, Sydney, how are you today?" She asked me while I picked with a loose string of my sweater.

"Just fucking dandy," I snapped. I was annoyed with everyone and everything. I just wanted to fade away from the world. But no, I was stuck in the psych ward of some hospital.

"Did you take your medicine today?" Pam asked me quizzically. I looked at my feet. They gave me pills to 'calm me down' (numb my emotions), and that morning, I put them in my mouth, but as soon as the nurse left, I spat them out and put them in my nightstand table drawer.

"Sydney, you have to take your medication," Pam sighed.

"Oh fuck you, I don't have to do anything!" I yelled.

"Sydney, you've been through a lot," Pam told me. "I know, but you shouldn't be taking it out on me. You haven't even told me why you tried to kill yourself or why you cut yourself."

"You want to know?" I demanded. Pam nodded. "Fine, just fine! My life was and is a living hell. My dad hated me, my mom didn't love me enough to stand up to my abusive father, and frankly, I hate myself. I hate my plain ass face, I hate my freckle right by my chin, I hate my hair, how it's always so plain, I hate how I get so emotional about such stupid things, I hate everything about myself. Why can't you fucktards just get it through your brains that I don't want to live anymore? I think the scars on my legs and wrists pretty much prove that!"

Pam sighed and put her clipboard under the table. That one action signaled that it wasn't a therapy session anymore, it was a heart-to-heart.

"Sydney, tell me exactly what you feel like when you wake up in the morning," she ordered gently. I sighed and played with the end of my sweater sleeves.

"I...I...I feel like something's eating me from the inside out," I admitted. "I feel hopeless, I just don't see the point of waking up and getting on with life anymore, ya know. I feel like I'm drowning, but no lifeguards are diving in to help me."

Pam smiled warmly at me. "You'll find your lifeguard," she promised. "Someone will come into your life one day and pull you out of the deep waters of self hate you're drowning in. But, they can't save you if you're already dead. Hope is such an abstract concept, and many people do not understand it. Hope is what keeps the suicidal going. Hope is managing to get out of bed and on with life when all you want to do is stab yourself repetitively. Hope drives us all to work. And as long as you have hope, you'll be okay."

"Pam, if you don't mind me asking, who's your lifeguard?" I asked her. She smiled and glanced down at her wedding rings.

"My husband," she sighed happily. "He's so sweet. He was actually my doctor when I was depressed. He prescribed me my pills and administered my weekly check ups. He told me that he didn't date patients. So, the day I got fully over my depression, two years, three months, and four days after I met him, he came to my door with a sign that read, 'I'm so proud of you. Now that you're not my patient anymore, how about I take you out on a date?' And we've been together ever since."

I couldn't help but 'aw' at Pam's adorable memory. I was brought back to thoughts of Jake, Julia, and Jamie. They were my first friends in...well, ever. Pam must've noticed me thinking because she asked, "what's on your mind?" She asked. I shrugged in response.

"Sydney, I remember you mentioned a Jake, Julia, and Jamie in our earlier sessions," she told me. "Do you think they're your lifeguards?"

I smiled to myself before nodding.

"Yah, I...I think they are," I smiled. "It took me fifteen years to find them, but I did."

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a/n: hi so I'm not dead

I've been having exams all week

and I hated this chapter every time I wrote it.

so yah

I'll try to update this weekend

and thank you for helping my one book hit 12k reads xoxo

love you alllllllll soooooo much

mwah

xxx