What's a girl to do?

Mental hospital-school-jail-thing (2)

"What?!"

"There's really no other way."

I stared in shock as my parents broke the most awful news I've ever heard. They had officially lost it.

"You cannot send me to a mental hospital-school-jail-thing."

My mom sighed and buried her hands in her face. "I told you Julie, it's not a mental hospital-school-jail-thing. It's just a place for troubled youth to go and live for a while till they get better...I mean, it's not the end of the world."

I refused to believe it. My whole life was here, and now my parents were shipping my off to some weird ass place with equally weird ass people. I lost everything in a few seconds. In a few seconds, my life turned upside down.

I stayed silent and I trembled, as a tear rolled into my mouth. It was bitter, not unlike my situation. Then another one rolled down my cheek. And another. And one more, until tears were pouring out my eyes uncontrollably, and I remained silent. However, the silence was getting louder and louder with each tear, and I didn't know how much more I could take. So, I took a deep breath and tried to reason:

"Mom, Dad. That's not fair, I-"

"Enough!" my dad banged the table "You're not okay Julianna! You keep forgetting what's happening, you have random fits of rage, your mood changes ALL the time, you hear voices and hallucinate, you have no friends, and you killed your boyfriend! There will be no further discussion about this. They said you can either pack a suitcase or a bag with no strings and I say you better suck it up, because first thing tomorrow you're leaving". I opened my mouth to speak but quickly closed it, as there would be no use. I'd just give them more reasons to think I'm psychotic.

I shot a glare at them both hoping to get a reaction, and before I could wait to find out if I'd be disappointed or not, I climbed the stairs and shut my bedroom door.

I snatched a suitcase from under my bed.

How could they do this to you?

And there go the voices again? Now was not the time so I didn't answer. I stuffed some clothes and other stuff inside.

Do they actually think something is wrong with you?

I zipped it up.

And if they do...

I slapped the light switch.

Does that mean something is actually wrong with you?

I plopped on my bed.

"Uh probably" I murmured.

You're right. But what is?

Okay, this has got to be a joke.

"Shut the fuck up!" I screamed into my pillow.