Motionless. That's my adjective for today. I laid still watching the clock tick in the corner of my room. My therapist always tried to get me to learn more words. She always said I'd make a great writer.
Ludicrous. That's what I would describe my situation if that's what the topic was. But no I was supposed to describe my day, and how it's been.
I haven't moved since I woke up and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. I guess it is time that I should begin to take care of myself. What's the point of caretakers if they don't actually care?
This one lady that was supposed to watch over me left halfway through just to masturbate in my bathroom. It was disgusting to hear. Now I never go near that restroom and I take extra time walking to the bathroom on my level.
Of course, they never let us use the stairs. It's not an option because someone could accidentally fall and die. I would be the person to do that out of an actual accident because I'm a klutz.
I waddled into the shower, opposite of my bathroom, and did my business. When I got out I looked at myself in the mirror.
What made my father believe I needed mental help? I never did anything wrong. I was a good kid. I've done as asked and rarely complained.
Maybe he was sick of me. Needed a break or some lame excuse as that. I want to know how my mother's been. She hasn't visited in a long time.
Have I been forgotten? No, I couldn't have been. I'm her only daughter and she's a single mother. Maybe that's it. She moved on got a boyfriend and forgot about me. She wouldn't do that though.. right?
I need to stop.
Tears weld in my eyes but they never fall.
Something strange is going to happen today I can feel it. My lips quiver and I hear a knock on my door. It's time to make my way towards Ms. Jenny.
I take my precious time in getting ready. I make myself impatient. My socks feel weird today too. Something's really off.
I walk into her room and close the door behind me. I grab a stack of paper and a pen.
"How are you feeling today y/n?" Jenny questions.
Petrified. I write.
YOU ARE READING
𝐌𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐬 𝐈𝐥𝐥 (g.w. x reader)
Mystery / ThrillerIn a mental hospital. The majority of your days you sat and played with your hands. Every once in a while getting notes from strangers. No one ever spoke to you except the caretakers. You never spoke to anybody anyway it was pointless for them. Unt...
