When I had woken back up lieutenant ghost didn't even let me process what happened before he demanded answers from me, why I had done such thing. Why there was oh so many scars. And just simply what caused it
And well I was forced to explain everything, my suspicion that my parents might've faked a clean record just to get me in. I explained my actual history with mental hospitals and jail, the fact that I even wasn't mentally stable.
When I was done explaining everything he just stared, I would've rather faced anger than silence. But his stare...he stared at me as if the mere concept of a heavily mentally ill person didn't exist to him. Which fair, he seemed the type of man to live off of discipline and no distractions.
Then he finally spoke, quietly but stating facts.
"How are you even still here?"
I laughed, not of genuine joy but a bitter full sense of distain.
"Because my parents needed the convenience of a maid" I said simply, matter of fact even "they needed someone to work for them, to bring in the money. So they made sure I stayed, with a stubborn determination actually"
I really loved taking about myself huh, but all of it was the truth. Even at my big age of 28 I still stayed with my parents to be a money tree for them. But even then that came with problems
Ghost slowly blinked, staring at me "you shouldn't have permission to even hold a gun" he muttered, probably thinking on kicking me out.
"Be happy I haven't shot my head off by now" I huffed, I didn't care if it was tmi. It was true, I've had a few temptations
He shook his head slowly "you can't go back to them, your parents I mean" he finally said
I blinked "what"
He sighed as if my questioning was annoying
"You heard me, you can't go back because it'll make everything worse. This is your distraction, I'll just have to change a few things" and as if it was already decided he nodded and left, I didn't even have a choice to agree or disagree
I huffed and looked down at the floor, which had been mopped. As if no blood had stained that exact spot earlier, at least the man is giving me mercy. Not kicking me out, even though he should. I'm clearly no fit to be here, so why keep me?
I guess I've already been here too long to kick me out, I know too much and it'd be wasted. Plus he had a point, this was my distraction. And as much as I hated it, it did prove to stop me from cutting.
Weakly i glance down at my leg, it was wrapped up tightly in clean bandages. So he had stitched it up, I do remember that
My head fell back against the pillow. My body was too heavy, my skin felt like its being peeled back layer by thin layer. Everything sucks
I hate my life
