wake up.

XII

I'm in a hospital room. Funny how endings always circle back to beginnings. In this case, the beginning of my insanity; my fall; the end of my happiness. I wish I would just die.
Die.
Die.
Die.
I go to swipe the dark strands from my eyes, but I can't. I jerk my arm and my leg, then my other arm and other leg, but I still cannot move. Why can't I move?
Move.
Move.
MOVE!
I'm tied down. This is different. Why have they tied me down? Am I hurting others?
Just kill me already!
My breath quickens, and I'm hyperventilating again. I need to breathe.
One. Two. Three.
Again.
One. Two...
This is stupid. Why am I even trying? Somebody help me.
"Sweetheart, please calm down.You're okay and safe here, trust me."
I whip my head over to the voice that beckoned my nerves to still. It came from a tall, dark and handsome man wearing a doctor's coat and a blue shirt. I looked down at what I presumed was the man's tag pinned over his chest. I curse my eyes for being so out of focus, and I force them to clear up. They did, but only just enough to make out his name. Dr. Harson.
What am I doing at a hospital? How could they help me? I was expecting a psychiatric ward, not this regular hospital. Then I remember my bruises across my stomach and neck and I freeze.
Dr. Harson turns around, picking up a small but shiny sharp object. He stabs it through a small jar of something, and it's then I know that he's going to inject me with something. I squint. I still can't read the name. He sighs, drawing a chair over to my bedside where I'm still strapped down.
"Alright, Ananka. Without going into too much boring detail about your vitals, I need you to know that you still need some sleep, alright?"
I shake my head. I shake my head repeatedly. He can't be serious, right?
"Your bruises will heal faster once you're asleep, I'm sure you understand. Don't worry, you're in safe and capable hands. Do you have any questions before I sedate you?"
I go to open my mouth, but my throat is dry and nothing comes out. This can't be happening.
His hand moves towards my straining wrist and I'm scared. I'm terrified.
I do have questions!
Where is my dad? Did he give his permission? You can't inject anything without permission! Where's Mariah? Did she help me? Can you help me? What are those boring details about my vitals? Could you not sedate me? Please, please, please, please, PLEASE!
He moves closer, and I'm not numb. I can feel the cool thin metal of the needle dig into my skin.
No.
No.
No.
NO.
And as always, I'm asleep.