13 Novella 2

Returned

TW: psych wards and self harm

Maybe it's the smell, or the unnaturally crisp anti-suffocation bed sheets, or the lack of fresh air because the windows don't open, or the pathetic pillows that your head sinks right into.

Whatever it is, when you wake, you know exactly where you are.

You keep your eyes shut for as long as possible
before opening them where you don't even sigh. It's just not worth it. Nothing's changed, all white and clean, in fact you might even be in the same room. Although they do all look the same.

"Ah you're awake" a kind nurse says with a smile which you fail to return due to the overwhelming sense of deja vu.

You listen to the her hum complacently nearby as you try to shake off the drowsiness surrounding you.

"It's ok, you're fine, sit up slowly now" she says watching you rise, shaking your head to clear it.

"What happened?" You say blankly. You know where you started and you know where you are now, but you have no idea of the in between.

"You had an accident my dear. Gave us all quite a fright too might I say" she says with a chuckle, pouring you a glass of water.

"I fell" you say, confused, but you are sure that happened.

"Yes into a lake, don't worry it wasn't very far. Some Good Samaritan called the ambulance and you were saved in a jiffy" she says contentedly.

Of course, cover story.

"Didn't catch their name, just said they were a Doctor of some kind. Said they were glad you were safe, and to take good care of you." She finishes, wheeling her trolley to the door.

She is still humming but you rather like it.

"It's alright my love, you're safe now" she says with a warm smile, catching your broken expression as she exits shutting the door behind her.

You lie back, not touching the water she's left you.

So this was it.

You close your eyes, and vow never to open them until this nightmare was over.

                             *              *              *

Hours bleed into days, days crawl into weeks, weeks snail into months, and nothing.

You didn't expect them to release you from the ward, but you couldn't help hoping.

They knew you jumped, and that was enough.

Reasons beyond didn't matter.

You are unaware of anything except the constant stream of distorted pictures that play around your mind.

The Doctors tell you it is psychosis, and that is should disappear when you get better. It was a good idea to motivate you, but you just don't care.

You are friendless and alone. Creativity alludes you, and your attempts to speed up the remainder of your life are unsuccessful.

You trying starving yourself, but they stick a tube down your throat. You try stashing your meds, but they find them. You try escaping but they catch you and bring you right back.

People come and go, but you don't talk to them.

A month in and they finally tell you where Georgie went, she was released a few weeks after you escaped.

You didn't even get to say goodbye, let alone go to her funeral.

They talk at you, and you nod and pretend to participate. You rate your mood and they almost believe you, but you never get close enough. You don't even have to prevent your mind from wandering. It's stuck in a simple thought sequence.

Doctor means medical personnel. Jenny is a girls name. Yaz is short for Yasmin, one of the nurses is called that. Abigail means nothing. They are just names. Utterly meaningless. Time moves but you don't. You haven't in such a long time. A year comes and goes and you don't notice. Time is a construct.

You are stuck in this loop of thought about time for the thousandth time when you dully register a commotion in the hallway.

You rise at the sound of a voice that almost seems familiar.

You pad softly to the door and look round the corner, finding two nurses pinning down a girl with blood running down her face.

She turns her head of bright red hair in your direction and you catch her eye. The connection lasts no longer than a second before you retreat.

You know her. It's her, it's definitely her. How long has it been? Two years? Three? You met her the day you left. So Codie never did achieve her goal.

Lucky her, she gets to rot in here instead.

She is lead away, snarling and screaming until you are left stood in the middle of the hall, staring at the spot she had just occupied. You blink in bemused surprise, your brain hasn't properly worked hard in some time, when something shiny catches your eye.

You know what it is.

You run in three strides, bending quickly to scoop it into your hand. Happiness, the first emotion you've felt in months beside numbness, envelops you.

You almost skip to your room and barricade the door. It won't keep them out long, but it'll be enough. They'll be too late.

You run to the bathroom and roll up your sleeve, power coursing through your veins at your stroke of luck.

You want to savour the moment, but they could be back any second. You open your palm and gaze lovingly at the blade before digging it across your wrist without hesitation, because this is what you have wanted for so long. You are certain in that.

You watch the Scarlet pool grow, and your hand deplete into a pale comparison.

You don't stop.

You don't bother making last thoughts, you've done that enough times. They'll know what you would say and the thanks you would give.

You were happy, and that was all that mattered.

This time you've got it right. It's perfect.

You roll onto your side and let your eyes close. You hadn't lost your touch. You were effective as ever.

The last thing you see is an image of yourself, lifeless and peaceful at last.

Goodbye horrible thing.