Room 839

Chapter 1:Im not crazy.

I kick the rocks away as I walk home from school. Same usual routine with my music holding my hand along the way. Everyday I dread coming home and walking through that door and everyday I dread going to school. I don't know where I want to be. Locked away in a room, away from the world, I guess.

I reach my house and I open the door and walk inside.

"I'm home!" I yell as I walk through the hall and I make my way straight to my room. I put my stuff down and walk out of my room and to the kitchen so I can get a drink. I try to avoid my family since they know about me and I try my best to avoid their "life lessons on how to be happy". I open the refrigerator to grab the juice and my mom calls my name.

"Emie!"

"What?" I respond as I close the door and open the cabinet to grab my glass.

"Come here, we want to talk to you."

Oh, shit. They're gonna talk to me. Why can't I ever get home and just have a silent empty evening? I set my glass down and walk to the table where she is sitting at. I see my sister sitting there with a weird look on her face.

"Oh hey Alice. What are you doing here?" She usually doesn't visit at this time. I wonder what's going on.

"Sit."

I do as told and watch them both.

"What's going on?"

Silence.

"Honey, I'm very worried about you. You're so depressed all the time and I see the tear stains on your face nearly every day and that makes me sad. Every time I see the scars on your body, it makes me feel like I've failed in some way." My mom talks like she actually cares. How wonderful. I've had this talk multiple times. It always just ends with, "just try to be happy ok?" Yea sure.

"Mom, I'm trying."

"Yes, honey, I know but I don't think you've been improving." What does she know??

"Mom, I'm fine." I look over to my sister just sitting there with her hands tied together, looking at the floor. "Alice, I'm fine. I'm not crazy."

"We know that but, we just want you to get the best help we can get." She finally speaks up but she still goes on with the idea of getting help. Where's my supportive sister?

"Mom, Alice, I don't need a therapist. I'm fine on my own. I promise, I'm trying. I feel better than I've felt in weeks." Lie.

"Oh, no, we don't mean a therapist." My mom looks over to Alice as she talks. What?

"We mean that we should probably make you an inpatient at a mental institution."

"What?!"

What?! She is definitely NOT being serious right now!

"Mom, are you crazy?! YOU should be the one in there!"

"You do not speak to me that way, I am your mother!" Pfft. Yeah, right.

"And I am your daughter! You don't just tell your daughters that you are putting them into a mental institution!"

"Emie, please, we think this might be good for you. They're not going to treat you like you're mental, I promise. They're just going to help you out and make sure you don't harm yourself or do something crazy. They'll just try to fix you and make you happy." My sister, the one who was always there for me, is saying this. No way. No.

"No! You're acting like I'm some type or robot or some shit! No one can just, FIX me. No!" A million things are running through my mind. How could they do this?

"We know that, but please! We just want to help you! We already fixed everything up, honey. You'll be going in in two weeks. Please, honey. Give this a try."

I just stare at them in disbelief and run up to my room, already in tears. I slam my door closed and fall into my favorite corner and cry. My family is putting me in a mental institution. No. They can't. I'm not crazy. No. No no no. I furiously rub my face with my hands and grab my phone from my bed and unlock it. I go to messages and tap on the only person who will listen and understand. I stare at her name and then quickly start to type. As I'm about to press send, I hesitate, wondering if she would actually care. No, no she wouldn't. I delete the message and click my phone off and just sit there. A million thoughts run through my mind which are interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Emie?"

"Leave me alone, Alice! Just leave me alone. Leave me alone for two weeks! I don't want to see your face. Leave..me..alone."

I hear footsteps until they become quieter and I can't hear them anymore. I let my tears fall once again and rip off my duvet and make a big lump and lay on it. I think about my nightmares and I then fall into a deep sleep.