Suited and booted

Chapter 8*

20 mins later...
"Sorry, I had a work call" my dad says, sheepishly coming into the room and closing the door. "Right now your back mr Specter we can discuss options about miss Specter here" the doctor explains, I'm about to hurl everywhere. I don't think I'm going to eat after this, much to my dad's dissatisfaction. "I don't think either of you will be happy to hear this" he says then stops, it didn't need the dramatic pause, even though it was a few seconds it felt like 200 years. "I'm very sorry to inform you that you have in fact relapsed, the options are as follows" he explains, much more cheerily than needed. "We can admit you to a psych ward or you can have carers to make sure you eat your meals" I feel violently Ill, it's getting worse and worse. "I'm sorry I have to go" I cry, standing up as tears come flooding down my face, running to the door everything starts to become blurry, but I don't care, I slam down the door handle pushing the door and dashing through the crack. I just need to run, run as fast as I can, get as far away as possible, before they take away my freedom and lock me up, like some messed up in the head person.

I run into the bathrooms right near the exit, staring at myself in the mirror as mascara drips down my cheek, in a waterfall of jet black. "I'm not perfect anymore, I'm a mess" I scream, slamming my hands against the mirror, thank god I'm not strong enough to shatter it. "It's my fault that I'm not perfect, it's my fault that I was sexually harassed" i blubber, as everything starts going blurry. As I feel myself  shift from side to side, I hear the door open and my father comes rushing in. "I'm sorry, I'm not the daughter you wanted" I say, as I feel the cold floor beneath my back, then everything left. I don't hear his reply, I just get sucked into an abyss of solid darkness, it's as if I'm stood in a room with walls and a roof a mile thick, where light can't touch inside. It's like I'm in the middle of it, spinning around trying to find a way out. There's no noise, no sight, no scent, no touch, not anything but still darkness. Is this what it feels like to be dead?

Then a bright light appears almost in the centre of my vision, slowly but surely my senses reappear, I can feel myself wriggling my finger tips against my side, I can smell chemicals and aftershave. It's all too familiar. I can feel my chest rising as my lungs fill with air, but it rises and falls rapidly, almost like a panic attack. The light seems to be gradually getting brighter as it pierces my eye sockets, it's like looking at the sun in a solar eclipse and I'm waiting to become blinded. Lastly, i start to hear again, a low hum of people talking through what sounds to be a wall, am I in a psych ward? My eyes burn as they finally adjust to the piercing light above me, i squirm away from it, closing my eyes and covering them with my hand. Right now I could do with my Ray bans. As I move trying to flip onto my stomach to avoid the light like the plague, I feel an ache in the back of my hand. My hearing isn't still fully back, either that or there's no one actually in this room other than me. I slide my hands underneath myself trying to right myself so I can sit up and look at why my hand seems to have an nagging ache. As I do, I hear the door open, it is shut softly and the door handle squeaks as it's released. As I'm still blinded my the light (pardon the pun) I can't seem to make out anything more than a tall figure stood at the door. I can still hear talking outside, I'm trying my hardest to decipher who's voices it is.

I hear a click and the blinding light turns off, the room goes slightly darker, I can tell my eyes are definitely grateful for the light being switched off.

The door opens slightly allowing blinding light from the outside hallway to flood in through the door. Here we go, everyone get ready for the shit show. The doctor steps into the room, flicking the lights on as he is followed by my father and closes the door again. I squint and squirm yet again, trying to not be blinded by the light. "So miss Spector we have a lot to talk about" the doctor addresses me, I slump back on the hospital bed and roll my eyes. If he thinks he's putting me in a fucking care home like an old bat he has got another thing coming. "I have already thought of a solution" i say, interrupting him as he was about to start talking about my freedom being taken away. He stops talking instantly like someone has just snapped his lips together. "Go on" my father says, propping his head up by placing his chin on his fist, as his elbow rests on his knee. "What if I set alarms to remind me to eat and then if we create an excel spreadsheet I can input in what I have eaten at what time of the day and you and the other doctors can see it" i explain, looking at him. He purses his lips together seeming somewhat impressed. "Ok we can try that but only on a trail basis, if it goes wrong and you are still not gaining weight or nutrition by this time next month, we will have to try a new approach such as carers" he replies. I nod feeling somewhat happy that I don't have to have some bastards come into my home and force feed me to some degree. "Mr Spector is that all ok for you?" The doctor asks my father, who nods and smiles, seeming somewhat perkier than before. "I'm determined to make it work this time, I promise I won't let myself slip" i exclaim, trying to sound positive and like I'm ready for recovery again which I am. I'm determining to make this work as I'm not having my freedom taken away not that I would admit that to the doctor as he may change his mind. "Can I go now?" I ask, sliding off the edge of the uncomfortable bed and standing up. "I don't see why not" the doctor says. Feeling like I'm walking on air as I basically rip the door open and strut out into the corridor. Why I feel much better I'm
Not sure but I do.

As I slide into the back seat of the car with my dad he asks "now you have turned a new leaf should we go and get some lunch?".