Mentally Broken

11

Chapter song: Believe in Me by Demi Lovato
(Mia's pov)
Justin continues answering my question about his life before being put in a mental hospital. He just told me how his parents died and he had to rely on his friends for company. He also mentioned that he had a girlfriend.
"...She cheated on me with my friend," Justin confesses in a sad murmur. I feel my heart grow into a 20lb weight. His confession makes me so sad, and I want to take all the pain away.
"That sucks, Justin. She made a big mistake," I gently squeeze his hand, careful not to destroy our connection
"I guess," he shrugs hopelessly and narrows his eyes. I know he feels like it's his fault. I hope there's a way I can convince him to see it differently.
"Any girl would be lucky to have you, Justin," I keep my hand in his.
"Thanks..." he gives me a crooked smile. His head snaps away from me as if he hears something; then he shakes out of it and look back in my eyes.
"...What about you?" he asks in the same shy manner as me.
"My dad died when I was 14." My throat tightens just speaking of my dad. It's not an easy concept.
"I'm sorry, Mia."
Justin squeezes my hand just like I squeezed his. I don't mind. I mean, our hands are already together.
"Yeah, he was in a car crash too, went to the store, never came back...I was stupid enough to let it get to me, and started a fight I couldn't finish. I was never good enough. I fucked up my own life..." I dried my eyes and break eye contact with Justin. This has got to be the millionth time I've cried in here. He probably thinks I'm a big baby.
"Everyone made fun of me and called me names. It was terrible. They pushed me, knocked my stuff down, made me feel like...I shouldn't be here anymore," I have to dry my eyes again, because I keep tearing up.

"Mia...They're assholes. You shouldn't blame yourself...It's ok to blame it on other people sometimes," Justin scoots closer to me and hesitantly grabs my other hand. This must be challenging for him to do, but his eyes don't show it.
"If I had a choice anymore, I would kill myself, to be honest," I cry in my free hand, feeling like a total weakling.
"Don't cry, Mia. There's people who care. You've got to believe that," he places his cold hand against my wet cheek.
"Who the hell would care about me? Nobod—" "I do, Mia...I just met you, but I trust you," he dries my eyes, and I can feel the cuts and scratches on his hands. I think I'm in love with them, but not in the way a person is supposed to be.
"Thanks Justin," I move away, because a nurse is walking our way.
"Dinner time!" the nurse shouts, making my ears ring. I motion Justin to stand and head into the cafeteria.
(Justin's pov)
-Monday, 11pm-
My mind is overwhelmed with memories of my past. I sit in the middle of my bed. I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I know Mia is crying. She really hates it in here. I don't think she should be in this place either. We're supposed to stay here until we "get better."
"I don't know about anyone else, but it's not that easy to fix a person's mind, especially if everything's just getting worse," I mutter to myself. Everyone thinks differently.
Mia doesn't need this. She'd be better off outside. Even though she tried to kill herself, I think her family should've have taken her to a therapist or something. Why directly to a mental hospital? Over the past few days, I feel like she's changed me a little. I mean, before I met her, I didn't want to make contact with anyone. I hated to be touched.
"I wasn't open to anyone," I think out loud. Since Mia has shown me that she cares and won't leave, I sort of adjusted to her in my life. She's probably the only person who I would allow to get personal with me.
"I'm sorry," Mia breaks my thoughts, but the voices in my head still buzz on.
"For what?" I look worriedly at her, blocking out everything else. She's in tears and sniffling.
"Keeping you up," she wipes her puffy eyes.
"You're not doing wrong, Mia," I turn my head back around and stare at the sheets of my bed.
"I'm so tired, but I can't sleep. I just want to leave," she breaks into sobs again. This time, I get up and sit beside her on her bed.
"Don't cry, Mia. I know how you feel. It'll be ok. Trust me on this," I reluctantly put my hand on her delicate shoulder. She shakes uncontrollably as I remove one her hands from her face and hold it in mine.
"Why are you the only one who's been nice to me?" she looks at me with teary eyes, sniffling and whimpering.
"I don't know," I shrug and narrow my eyes. Mia rests her overcrowded head on my lap and sniffles again. I don't flinch or anything, but I still get slightly uncomfortable.
"...You don't know what I would do to kill myself right now." Her voice is breaking.
"I know it's not good," I speak soft enough for her to hear, but not loud enough to beat the voices.
"You're right," she swallows hard like it pains her to speak.
"You'd rather be dead?" I move close enough to feel her sadness, but it doesn't feel any worse than mine.
"Yeah. I hate my life," she stares at the floor, dealing with her suicidal thoughts.
"We all do. Listen, Mia...just be careful. You've got to watch what you do in here," I warn her, which probably makes her annoyed with me.
"I'll try," she speaks flatly. I don't think she even wants to. I'm just worried that she'll get in trouble.
"We'll get out of here someday. I promise," I hold her hand in mine, unable to warm it up.
"Can I stay like this?" Mia asks sadly, referring to our current position.
"I don't mind," I smile slightly yet a little conscious of our contact.
"Thanks," she smiles back and closes her heavy eyes.

I don't know when was the last time I slept. It's got to have been more than 3 days. Sleeping is something I've found difficult to do. I always do, ever since I killed my girlfriend. It's uncontrollable. All these voices somehow remind me not to sleep a wink.

(A/N: It's been such a bad week. But I really appreciate you helping me cope. Thank you so much.😘 Next post is on Saturday/Sunday)

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