What Happened to Charli

Ten

     I didn't keep track day by day how long I was in the ward, all I knew was I was surprised when Fridays and Tuesdays rolled around because mom visited me. Some hours were full of anger, at her because of my dad. Somedays I felt like she didn't care and so why should I? But the worst was when I tried to talk about my feelings to her and she quickly pushes them off to the side, making it seem like other things were more important like making jokes or talking about how understaffed her unit was and how she hated being floated. 

     When I visited Doctors Ann's office, it was February first, three whole months I spent here. I sat in her leather chair for the last time when she dropped the news. "Tomorrow morning I think you'll be good to go, Asher. You've shown great improvement, I think you're ready to take on the world."

     I was conflicted, ready to be back in the comforts of my now strange room and also not wanting to leave the scheduled and monotone life here. "I guess I am excited to be able to use the bathroom in the middle of the night without waiting for someone to escort me."

     She laughed. "Or have a light blinding you every few hours?"

     I smiled and laughed along. I didn't sleep well here, even with melatonin. In group therapy the main woman, I forget her name, says that might be my superpower - staying awake while the melatonin wears off. Some superpower. 

     I went back into my room for the last night, putting together my school work in my folder and placing it on my empty dresser. I guess Doctor Ann decided I was well enough to remember days of the week and control my sleeping habits now.

     Or not to kill myself. That was still on the book, though. 

     My last supper contained some under seasoned chicken and rice, a side of unsweetened applesauce and a brownie with some vanilla ice cream. I tried to choke down the regular food first, I tried not to gag what with me sitting near the anorexic kids.

     Mom came and picked me up in the morning, happy and smiling. We made pleasant small talk until we got home, where she went straight to her room to sleep after picking up three extra days and I went into my room, my folder of school work in hand and wearing my clothes that smelled faintly of the hospital. I promptly took them off and went to the shower, wiping off the containment the hallways carried.

     Back in my room I stripped my bedding again, throwing them and my dirty hospital clothes in the washer. I sat on my bed, feeling myself get depressed.

     A schedule, that's what I needed.

     Sitting on my cold computer chair I took out a piece of paper and made myself a time table. Six am, wake up. 7 am, leave for school.

     3 pm, get home. 3:30, do homework and eat a snack, 4:30 reading time, 5 pm, start thinking of dinner and making it. 6, clean up kitchen, 7 pm, some outside time. 7:30, shower, 8:30 pm, get into bed.

     I was dreading going back to school, but was intensely happy I wouldn't be left behind. 

     By Monday, I was the popular kid. Lots of rumors were spread around. Someone asked me how jail was, another asked me what it was like being suspended for so long. I saw Daniel briefly, he had a black eye. Kirsten asked me during a passing period where I've been, I shrugged and told her I was out.

     "Out? Ok, like, suspended?"

     "Yeah, I guess."

     "You guess?" I walked off, not interested in her digging. I wasn't about to tell anyone I was in the psych ward for sleeping the whole weekend and forgetting it was a Monday. I felt the anxiety shiver go down my spine and I cringed.