Mind split.
It's been 24 hours.
I don't miss my dad, he made me come here. I'm not sick, I'm not crazy.
I was having a mental breakdown.
...
I finally calmed down and walked over to the bathroom mirror.
It's what is making this life hard.
I looked in the bathroom mirror and examined my messy dark brown hair and hazel eyes tainted with exhaustion and fear.
It's what's mocking me, terrifying me, and going to kill me.
I sighed then stood there for a few minutes then jumped when someone knocked on the door.
It's here!
It's going to get me!
I scrambled for a few seconds then stopped.
Well, I did lock the door of a bathroom..that was for every male in this uh, place...
I took a breath then held it as I opened the door to find It wasn't here. Thank goodness, it's not the time of dying, I released my captive air. It was not here. I was just visited by my angry red headed stubborn psychiatrist therapist person.
She doesn't care if I am suffering and could die any day!
IT WILL GET ME SOONER OR LATER!
She examined my features and sighed and the anger disappeared (unexpected but I think she's ignorant).
"frank, why won't you just talk to me ?" She said with her stupid little 'I'm going to be nice to you and you'll talk' voice.
I've known her for about a year now, she was not making any progress in making me talk about It.
She must be new here...
I'm not falling for this you fire truck!
I looked away from her then her look then changed to a more serious but delicate expression, "you know where you are at and you do know why, right, frank?"
I shook my head, denying my life and then looked up at her and started to cry
"I'm not crazy..." I said almost whispering.
"Frank, you're sick and I am supposed to help you get better, you are not crazy".
And that's why I hate her already.
It's been 24 hours and 15 minutes of suspicious safety from it, I am talking to my excuse of a person who will 'help me get better' in front of the bathroom door of a mental hospital.
My life is spectacular...
I took a deep breath and swallowed hard, what I was about to do was going to put me on bad conditions with the staff...
I pushed past her and ran to my so called 'room' (of suffering) and hid under the bed because I can actually fit under there. she'll never expect me, a 15 year old to be there so I win... What if it is in here ? I started to hyperventilate then I crawled from under the bed to find my angry red headed stupid psychiatrist, mrs. Elizabeth standing over me. "You can't help me" I simply stated. Her face then fell into a sorrowful stare, staring directly into my soul. Her mood was like a turnstile, there are three metal things , changing once hit, she has three moods...but now... This is new to me.
She walked out the room, slightly hitting the door frame with her side and sputtered silently until her words were incoherent and honestly , I don't care.
my heart started to race as adrenaline rushed through my blood stream. It's run or be sliced..
It...
It's here.
It's going to kill me and take my mortal body and hurt other people, I'm the only one that can be hurt by It. It loves pain.
I stared at It in horror and I jumped to my feet and sprinted out the door as fast as my little legs could carry me. I looked around I couldn't find mrs. Elizabeth...
I turned around and saw It running toward me, out of breath, I wimpered and ran away again, into mrs. Elizabeth's office ...
That's the image I'll never forget,
the light draining out of her eyes as she started slipping away from the world..
Mrs.Elizabeth had killed herself and it was all because me.
I released the breath I had subconsciously held and my eyes filled up with emotion I never felt...
I ran to a staff member and spilled out my incoherent and sputtering words of mrs. Elizabeth and ... It
He looked and me with wide eyes
He knew it was my fault
he knows!
Everyone knows!
I started to cry and he ran off towards the scene and not long after , the sound of sirens were heard ...
After about an hour I picked my throbbing head up out of my hands , my throat was dry and my eyes were probably puffy.
I looked at my watch , it's 1:00 in the morning...
The staff member returned real glum
I know what happened, don't tell me..
"She's dead...", his words seemed to echo through my head and down my spine, it sent chills as if a ghost passed through me...
"And it's all my fault..." I said as my breath solemnly rasped in my throat
He gave me a hug, "no it's not, she was clinicly depressed...the worst thing to do is blame yourse-"
I interrupted him, "I made her die" I whispered
"You didn't, she wasn't dead when you arrived in her office us know, I got to speak to her as she was dying... She told me to tell you you're not the reason.."
he pulled out of the hug and smiled, " you're fine, kid".
I looked at his name tag, his name is Ryan...I'll remember that.
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Everyone will burn.
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