behind closed doors

cannula

𝖙𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖗 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖎𝖓 𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊

☾

he doesn't reply to anything she says.

he doesn't want to talk.

instead, he stares at the foot of the bed he is practically bound to, apathetic as the noises surrounding him go in one ear and right out the other.

he's always thought he was a failure. his whole life he's told himself he can't do anything right. but this is a whole new low.

the brunette shakes his head in response to his mother's rambling.

"george, please," she begs fruitlessly, squeezing his hand where it sits curled in her own, "please, consider it?"

"i'm not going to a psych ward," he says- which, ironically, is the first coherent sentence he'd said since waking up.

before now, the only noises he'd made were screams, cries, and the occasional, desperate, "please," or, "hurts," or, "mum."

"i know you think it would be awful, george," she says, sympathetic as ever as she runs her thumb along the back of his hand, "but the people there could really help," she insists. "they could try to help and make all of this go away."

george shakes his head, feeling his lip quiver as his plea goes unheard. "please don't make me," he says, finally looking at his mum -she looks so broken- "please, mum."

"george..." she tries, sighing quietly.

george has never seen his mum look so mentally torn, like this really is the hardest decision she's ever had to make.

"please," the brunette whispers, blinking out a tear. "i'll get better, i promise," he tries, "please, mum."

"you need time off school," the ginger woman says, and george's whole body relaxes as he takes the words as ones of agreement. "not long, if you don't want, but you have to spend at least a few days at home," she tells him, stern. "you need a break from everything, and i'm going to stay home and keep an eye on you, alright?"

george's eyebrows pinch together.

he feels guilty, more than anything, but also, he feels a whole lot of pain - not just physically.

and he's embarrassed, but he tries not to focus on that, as it makes his stomach curl every time he realises how truly embarrassing this really is.

"so i'm on suicide watch?"

"no, george," his mother denies, but her eyes shift, not meeting his own, "i just want to keep an eye on you so i can help you feel better."

"mum," george speaks softly, bringing the woman's attention back to him, meeting her eye contact with a forlorn expression. "am i on suicide watch?" he asks again.