Time Stood Still

Kandy

*Kandy*

(Kellin Quinn + Andy Biersack)
-&-

White.

White white white.

Everything is white. Usually when people think of white, they think of snow or a bunny's tail.

I think of the suicide ward I'm in.

That leads to the multiple reasons why I'm here.

That leads to the reasons of those reasons.

It's a big fucking white mess.

Whipped cream is white, too. I just thought of that.

I was sitting in the room they called a sitting room. Or a sunroom. There was plexiglass panes as the ceiling and it stretched to half of the outer wall. I loved sitting on the white couch in here. It was the only room that wasn't completely white. The walls were painted a light brown, so the sunlight could compliment it. There was a dark brown shag rug in front of the greying couch which had its back to the wall wall that was half wall, half windows. The sunlight warmed me up in this cold hospital. But it didn't burn my pale skin. It was perfect.

The only thing I didn't like about the sunlight, was my eyes. I know that may seem like a very out there sentence, but it makes sense. Lighter eyes - like my blue ones - are more sensitive to light than the brown ones most of my friends don. It took my eyes a little while longer to adjust from dark to bright light.

I sighed and ran a hand through my black hair. I didn't like the way I looked. I was very fat. I didn't like how I couldn't see my bones or the fact that I don't have a thigh gap. Bones are cool. They're awesome. I want to see mine. My pale skin always burned and peeled. My eyes were dull and lifeless. My smile showed too much gum and my teeth weren't exactly white. My hair was always greasy and I hated it.

I lifted the sleeves of my white sweater to see various scars. Some bigger than others; some deeper than others. I hadn't touched anything sharp since I've been here, though. And it was killing me more than I was killing myself. I knew I'd never get out of here alive. I'd never find the one.

With that thought, I looked at my clock.

1 day 2 hours 8 seconds

Tomorrow? I guess my prayers have been solved. But who would love a boy with so many disorders and scars? No one.

I looked up to see my nurse, Justin.

"Hey, Kel. You look sorta frustrated. What's up?" He asked me from the doorway.

"Apparently I'm meeting my clockmate tomorrow." I grumbled.

Justin squealed and asked if he could see. I showed him my wrist, but all I was looking at was my scars.

"But I don't want him to see me like this." I said.

"What do you mean?" Justin cocked an eyebrow.

"I mean... Name something a disorder or a disease. I probably have it."

"Depression?"

"Severe."

"Anxiety?"

"Regular and social."

"ADD?"

"With and without the H."

"Alcoholic?"

"Vodka is the best."

"Popper?"

"Sleeping with pills."

"Binge eating?"