Behind The Glass Door

Chapter 26

Lacy:

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A whole month, went by of physical therapy, dancing slowly and doing baby steps, talking to the police, and I was sick of it. I had hospital visits once a week, my food monitor came in whatever room I was in whenever she needed me to eat and it didn't help that everyone knew that I needed a food monitor. It was torture. 

People whispered, talked, and spread rumors about my hospital trip. It varied from, 'She saw the ambulance coming and she didn't move, she wanted to die,' to 'Someone told me her heart stopped because she doesn't eat,'. It was annoying.

I had to do therapy on top of preparing for The Nutcracker. People thought they were helping me by getting so much work done on me but in reality, I was drained. I was exhausted. I can't possibly keep going, I tell myself every day when I wake up. I just wanted everything to go back to how it was before, doing twenty turns in a row, dancing until I was bathing in my own sweat, and being invisible to people.

I popped my anti-depressants like TicTacs, and every morning I longed for them, it was my first thought and I was addicted. It was my only escape from emptiness, exhaustion, and morbidness. Sometimes, when it got so bad, I'd take two a day, but every day I had to restrain myself from taking another one.

Enervating. A word to describe what people in my life did to me. Fatigue snuck up through my bones inch by inch through the day until it reached my brain, and then I was out. I lamented I slept, I dragged my feet, I didn't study, and I didn't do my homework. All because of a mental illness. 

Sometimes I just lay in my bed and stare at the ceiling, until I feel hot droplets of water fall down my cheeks and onto my sheets, staining the pink cotton. After that I bury my head into my pillow and wail, I scream and sob until my voice is hoarse and my head is dizzy from the lack of water in my body. I had multiple black smudged ink stains on my pillows, and on my stuffed animals, they were everywhere. 

I was currently in one of my moments, Val was with her boyfriend, like most nights, and I was accompanied by my ballerina teddy bear which I sobbed loudly into, my screams muffled, like I was underwater drowning, gasping and reaching for someone to save me but no one came, my Derek Shepard didn't carry me out of the water bridal style and resuscitate on me until I gasped for air and my eyes opened again. My Derek was busy with dance because she got to dance.

In all seriousness, I was immersed in water, I screamed but no one heard my cries, they only did the opposite. 

A creak of my door was heard and I whipped my head around to see Riley sneaking in, looking at me with a frown at my bloodshot eyes and wet face. 

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Everything, go away," I sniffled, my voice nasely.

"No, come on, tell me," she said.

"I'm so tired and drained, I just want a break," I sighed into my pillow, feeling her lay down next to me, bringing me to lay on her chest.

"How about I take you out to dinner, all fancy and French, like in your books," she stroked my hair, slightly mocking me.

"That might be nice," I said, laying my chin on her chest. 

"I think that would be a good idea, get your mind off things," she said, holding me close.

"I can dress up nice," I mumbled.

"Yeah," she smiled softly at me, stroking my hair. 

Tears continued to flow down my face as I stuck my head into her chest to hide it. She only cooed soft words at me and hushed me gently as she played with my unwashed hair.