Chapter song: Seen It All Before by BMTH
^^^ btw this is a just cover. I think the real song is too loud as in punk rock.
(Mia's pov)
-Wednesday, 7am-
Ugh, I hate fucking school. I don't even need it. It doesn't teach me anything except how fucked up I am.
"Mia, get up. You're running late!" Mom calls from outside my room, unaware that I haven't slept much at all.
"I know." Emotionally beaten, I get out of bed and change into a lavender sweater and black jeans. My clothes are big enough to hide my E.D, but I don't care if people know anymore. It's not like they notice me anyway. Even if they do, it's not like they'd care.
Everything is always about them, what they want. Nothing's ever about me, if I'm happy. Nobody even notices if I'm ok or not. They don't know how I have major breakdowns in my room, crying over the smallest flaws in life. They don't know how much I would kill to be noticed, even if it's only once. I just need someone to save me. Scratch that. I needed someone to save me. It's game over now.
I brush my teeth and hair, wash my face, then put on some cherry-flavored Chapstick. It's the same routine, a worn-out cycle.
I walk right past my mom. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't notice me. I don't think she even cares if I say goodbye or not. Damn, I wish she'd notice how much I'm trying to cope with life. I wish she'd treat me like I matter. It's always been like this, even when my dad was alive.
When I arrive at school, I instantly want to run away. Some people are still laughing from yesterday. I wish I can turn myself into anything other than stupid Mia. There's nothing special about me. I'm just a waste of space.
"Move out of my way, freak," one of the popular girls shoves past me. Her name is Casey, the girl I started a fight with a year ago. It's best if I avoid her. I don't care what she does anymore. But apparently everyone cares.
I walk to my first class and sit at the back of the room, so I'm away from everyone. It's better this way.
I receive several dirty looks from people, but I've learned to ignore them. I gave up on figuring out why they look at me like that. I just assume it's because I'm everything but perfect.
The teacher buzzes on about being persuasive in your writing. Instead, I think about if I should kill myself today. Can I persuade someone to slice my throat? I'm feeling pretty up to it. It's not like I'm waiting for a "bright future" or anything. Everyone else would love to see me dead. I mean, what's the fucking point? What am I doing here if everyone hates me? What am I doing here if everyone would rather see me in a grave?
-12pm-
It's lunchtime. Like always, I choose to skip it, because last time I went to lunch, everyone taunted me for eating and called me fat. All I ate was an apple that day, so now, all I eat is nothing. I don't even know what hunger feels like anymore. It's crazy, but after awhile it becomes easier to ignore. Craving a simple remedy, I go to the bathroom and fish out the razor in my pocket.
Tears are in my eyes. Nothing hurts more than feeling alone when I'm having a breakdown. It's like I'm paralyzed and nobody can help me. But of course, nobody knows what it's like unless they're like me. I slit my right wrist, making at least 4 new cuts. It's sad that this feels better than living everyday. I wish there was one day where I didn't hate myself so much. One fucking day.
I can't be happy. It's not meant for me.
Class has already started, so I quickly bandage my wrist and make my way to my next class, which is science. When I enter my class, the teacher gives me a disapproving look, and everyone else glares at me. What the hell? Why do they care if I'm late? It's not like they're paying attention anyway.
I want to cry, because I'm tired of everyone making me feel so bad about myself. I feel so out of place and left out. I'm sick of feeling lost. I'm sick of feeling alone. I just want to feel accepted for once. I want real friends, people who'll be here for me, who'll talk me out of suicide. I wish I could just rip myself apart and bury myself in the fucking dirt, dead or alive.
I sit down and dry my eyes before any tears fall, before I can make up my mind.
-3pm-
Last class of the day. I'm only on day 2 of the school week, and I want to tear my heart out. The suicidal thoughts are greater than usual, and it terrifies me.
"What are you looking at, whore?"
Casey snaps fiercely. I'm not even looking at her. Ignoring her comment, I don't say anything in response.
"Hey, I'm talking to you. Who the fuck do you think you are?" she glares right at me. I don't want to answer. Anything I say will trigger another breakdown.
"You know what? I don't care. All you do is fuck everything up. Everyone hates you. You're so pathetic. I think I'm gonna throw up," she fake gags, making all her friends laugh. Of course, she doesn't say it in front of any other people; her reputation could get ruined.
I dodge out of the classroom and out of the school's front door. As I stand at the front of the school steps, I try to get it together. Repeatedly, I take deep breaths, pacing left to right, trying everything. I try to take notice of the cold breeze against my face. But I'm too scattered for anyone to find me. At this moment, nothing can make me change my mind, because nothing hurts as bad as I do.
Tears fall uncontrollably as I chuck my backpack on the cement. I'm going home. Better yet, I'm going to visit Death. He hasn't visited me before, but I heard he's good with causing funerals.
My mom doesn't notice my arrival, so I go straight into my room.
Craving an escape, I grab the gun and set it. Fuck it. Let's get this done already. If nobody cares if I'm alive, why should they care if I'm dead? Just think about how much better life will be, out of my misery. Out of everyone's misery.
Staring at the gun, I hear Ellie enter the house and my mom greets her. Oh, so she noticed my sister but not me? If that doesn't convince me to pull the trigger, then I'm not sure how this can get any worse. I cry silently, my finger on the trigger as I take my last breath.
"Omigod! Mia!!" Suddenly, my mom screams, standing frantically at the door. I realize I didn't lock the door. Fuck.
"Mom, what's going o-Mia! No! What are you doing?!" Ellie realizes what's happening. Oh, so NOW she cares. Fuck her pathetic ass.
"Put the gun down, Mia!! Please!!"
They beg, and it creates a speck of sympathy in me. I throw the gun and hug myself in tears. Why the fuck did I do that? Ugh, I'm so stupid.
"Mia, don't ever try this again! Omigod!"
My mom sits me on my bed. I cry, unable to stop. At this moment, I regret every move I made.
-7pm-
I've spent the rest of the day in my bed after all the yelling and crying died down. Despite the little sympathy, I don't feel bad for my mom. She had to know that was coming.
You see, mom has a strong favoritism toward one child. That child is Ellie. Ellie's always the one who goes first, gets noticed, receives love from mom. Nevermind me. I'm just a nobody. A failure.
Ellie seems to be in a regretful mood. That's kind of amusing.
My door has been left open as I hide under the covers of my bed. I was so close to ending my miserable life. Who knows what'll happen now. My mom's probably gonna be watching me like a hawk. This is my fault. This is my fault. This is my fault. It's my fault that my life is a living hell.
-6am-
Someone shakes me awake, and I gasp awake.
"Mia, c'mon let's go," Mom sits me up. It's Saturday.
"Where are we going?" I mumble tiredly and follow my mom into her car. I don't really give a fuck where we're going. She's probably gonna screw me over like everyone else does.
"Just get some sleep, honey," Mom starts driving. Is she still upset about yesterday? She probably doesn't. I feel like crap. I just want to die. After awhile the car stops. I realize it's unusually quiet.
"C'mon, Mia," Mom leads me out of the car, ignoring how drowsy I am. I step on the hard pavement. It's gloomy outside, the sky a murky gray with fog lingering in the air. Trying to wake myself up, I peek my eyes open to see us heading towards a big, wide building. It's very castle-like. It has a tall gate and a very protective security system. What the hell is this? I reluctantly walk in through a glass door to see a front desk and lobby. On a sign, I read "Mental Health Treatment." Hell no. My heart plummeting, I study the room in fearful alert. I see magazines about mental disorders on a table. I look at my mom in betrayal. She doesn't seem bothered by it. Because she's not the one staying.
"Ok, now Mia I want you to stay ok. Do whatever they tell you. This is for your own good."
Dammit mom, you don't care! You never cared! Stop pretending to have sympathy!
"But...mom," I don't wanna be here. I don't need this. No matter how much I try to explain, she won't understand. Nobody will ever understand me. No matter what they say, I won't get over this.
"Be good, honey," she kisses my head before walking away. She seems so disappointed, but that's not what her eyes say. Her eyes are relieved. See?! She doesn't fucking care!
"You must be Mia. I'm Mrs. Sanders," a tall, brunette greets me. I don't speak. I'm too speechless. What's happening? Something cold is snapped around my wrist, making me flinch and jerk away. It's a plastic bracelet, like the ones people get at a hospital. This IS a hospital. What am I saying? I'm pulled in through a big, protective door.
"I'm sure you'll like the people here," the lady speaks kindly, too kind to be real. It's fake. I don't want to be here! I'm not crazy! This isn't my fault! Tearing up, I tug back and shake my head.
"I shouldn't be here," I narrow my eyes with thoughts rapidly churning in my head.
"C'mon, miss Mia," the lady takes a firm grip on my arm and pulls me down the empty hall.
"No, no. This isn't right," I pull back in reluctance, wanting to run away, better yet kill myself.
"Don't do this, Mia," the lady tugs me harder, triggering my cuts.
"Stop, let go of me! Get me out of here!" I scream in trepidation, and break away. I run back down the hall and try to open the door. Locked.
Then I feel several hands pull me back.
"I don't belong here!! Get me out!! Stop! No!" UselessIy, struggle in their grip until something sharp pierces into my arm. My strength gets weaker, and my vision becomes blurry.
"No." Desperately, I whisper before everything goes black.
(A/N: Sorry about my rant the other day. I'm just a mess. School's just so hard. Anyway so how are you guys? I need to communicate with you guys more.😁 Next post is on Tuesday/Wednesday)
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Mentally Broken
Fanfiction(Warning: If you don't feel comfortable with cutting, suicide, etc. I wouldn't read this story) How did I end up here, in a mental hospital? I'm not a physco, right? After all, I'm just a suicidal girl who tried to kill herself by pointing a gun to...
