It's been three weeks. Three whole weeks that led up to this moment. Three weeks without my medication. Three weeks I spent countless hours in my room doing various thing I know I shouldn't have. Three weeks I tore apart every bit of myself until I couldn't take it anymore. I needed out. And whereas some might say that's explicit, it was the truth. I held a secret inside of me, which I thought I would be the only one to ever know. I was indefinitely wrong.
I'm not sure what compelled me to down half a bottle of aspirin, but I do know that all I could feel was pain. The last thing I remember is a loud, female voice calling my name. It sounded distant. There was screaming, banging on the bathroom door, and sirens. But it all sounded far away, like I was hearing it from a few houses down, instead of on the floor of my own miniature bathroom. Then I blacked out, and woke up in room 137 of Mountainside Hospital.
Upon fluttering my eyes open, my senses seemed to heighten dramatically, like a machine that hadn't been used in a while. I could instantly feel my Mother's soft, warm hand wrapped tightly around my left forearm. My Father and younger brother Daniel were to my immediate right. I could hear the beeping of hospital monitors just out of my peripheral vision, but I could tell they were behind me on the left side. The bed I was in was distraught, like I just woke up from a nightmare, but it seemed comfortable. There was an IV injected into my right arm, that seemed to be pumping a clear liquid into my veins. But, everything was so vivid and bright that it gave me an excruciating headache, and caused me to question if it was a dream or reality. I wiggled my toes, and shifted up a little bit on the bed in attempt to sit up. My mother glanced up from the floor.
"Violet?" She whispered.
"Sissy!" Daniel exclaimed. He seemed more excited than he should've been. Considering the fact that he's four, I doubt he knew what was going on right now.
They all stared into me, expectancy written into the expression on each of their faces. They were waiting for me to say something. But nothing I could've said would give them what they wanted.
We sat together in utter silence before I faked a smile and muttered a soft, "Hey."
"Vi! Are you alright? Mommy said that you had an accident with some medicine! She said that you took medicine to make you feel better, and you took too many, and it made you feel worse, and you got sick! Are you going to be okay? I want you to be happy and play with me! Please get better soon!" Daniel talked a mile a minute, as he was climbing onto my lap, and his cute little innocent voice made me crack a slight smile.
"Well, Danny. I don't know if or when I'll get better. I haven't been happy in quite a long time. Sometimes people aren't happy with their lives and so they try to take their lives away. I just woke up. I don't know what's next for me."
Danny looked at me, puzzled. "Take your life away? That's silly, Vi. Why would anyone ever do that?"
"Because they aren't happy, Danny." My Dad spoke up.
Danny looked back at him. "Well when I'm not happy, I color." Then he turned back to me. "Wanna color with me, Vi?" He asked.
Then, my Mom spoke the omit words I did not want to hear.
"Sorry, Danny. Violet can't color with you. She'll be leaving soon."
"You mean she's coming home?!" He asked with excitement.
"Actually, she's being moved to the part of the hospital where they treat people with sadness like Violet. She'll be better in no time."
My stomach jumped into my throat. What did she mean?
"You mean she can't come with us?" Danny asked, whining and pouting.
"Unfortunately, no, Danny. But it will only be a short time until she can come home. Isn't that right, Violet?" Mom turned to me with a look on her face that begged me to say what she wanted Danny to hear.
