Comfortably Numb (Kellic)

Chapter Seven

There was a loud and steady beep coming from somewhere within the blackness. Each beep sounded like it was pounding itself deeper into my skull. God, I want it to stop.

I opened my eyes to be met with a dimly lit room with four white and bleak walls. There was a tray of food sitting on a plain black nightstand. Besides that, the room was empty. No chairs, no television, no phone, no monitors excluding the heart monitor I'm hooked to. This is a hospital. To be more specific, a suicide watch room. This wouldn't be my first experience with one of these.

The cold mattress wrapped over in a layer of sanitary plastic wrap pressed against me. I could only imagine how many people had died on this bed. I wished I could. These beds aren't comfortable in any sense of the word. I gripped the bleached white linens and pulled myself up. I leaned against the brick wall, which like the rest of the place, was cold, hard, and uninviting.

I still had the same outfit on as I did when I passed out, fainted, or whatever the fuck I did. So I'm assuming they haven't checked me for any fresh cuts. Meaning I can lie my way out of this Hell hole.

The blood rushing to every part of my body felt like an ache. My own blood felt like fire in my veins. It didn't want to be there much like I don't want to be here. I wanted to claw my skin away and let the red spill, staining the bleached sheets and the tile. I could hear my heart thumping in my ear, loudly, in sync with the heart monitor. It drowned out everything else and I felt a sickness creeping up inside.

There has to be some call button for the nurses. Or I could find a way to make this machine flat line. If only.

I pulled the white hard plastic thing that monitored my pulse, and threw it to the side. They'll be in here soon. The monitor is hooked to the thing, and the second it flat lines, there'll be an alarm at the front desk. The loud and continuous ring filled the room quickly after.

As hypothesized, they busted through the door with expressions that morphed from startled, to confused, and finally anger. I shrugged my shoulders at the mob of nurses. The mass dissipated, leaving my doctor with a disappointed look tainting his features. Sorry you got your hopes up, doc.

He pressed a few buttons on the screen, cutting off the god awful noise. That's all I wanted. Just go ahead and cut off my oxygen as well please sir.

"Kellin, you know better." He scolded me, sitting at the foot of my bed.

Again, I shrugged. "I think we all gathered that I'm alive." Sadly. "I just wanted the noise to stop." I wanted it to stop almost as I wanted my heart to. That's a hard goal to reach when you have people that intervene. Speaking of, how'd I even get in here? I was alone.

A chuckle passed his lips. Though I found nothing amusing. Well, besides how his few hairs were combed over to make his balding problem less noticeable, though failing miserably.

"Your therapist, Mr Fronz, isn't in town today. Therefore I'll be doing your evaluation." He pulled out a notepad and a pen, crossing a leg over the other and eyeing me intently. Staring as if he expected me to confess my sins and beg for forgiveness. Forgiveness not only I need but the world as a whole. Some of these humans make me look like a saint.

A moment of silence passed between us. I know good and well he was waiting for me to speak first. Past doctors and therapists have learned that I'm not one to indulge in my problems or life. Besides, it's not like they care. Nor do I, I guess.

He finally spoke up. "Well, rate your suicidal thoughts."

I mumbled a response under five. Above five and they carry out an extensive evaluation. He wrote it down and shot another question.

"How long has it been since you've last harmed yourself?"

Like you care. "Two months." We all know that's a lie. But I can't make it out here telling the truth. I could only imagine where they'd put me if I did tell them everything. Just went ahead and spilled the darkest parts of my head. Maybe label me as sadistic, but I couldn't have made it here riding on my sanity now could I?

"You seem to have a lack of nutrients in your body. That's what led to your falling out. There's a tray of food on the beside table, and you'll be expected to eat it all before you leave." He finished up, standing and gesturing towards the tray sitting on the nightstand. "There's a friend waiting for you when you're done."

He left the room, flicking the lights on before shutting the door behind him. Light flooded the room, overwhelming my senses. I could almost feel my pupils dilate to a pinpoint. It hurt like hell.

My stomach growled loudly, yet again. I need to eat to make these pains go away, and to get out of here. I can manage one meal.

I slid the tray off the nightstand and onto my lap. There was a plastic box with utensils to match, and a paper cup full of water. Suicide watch is the stupidest thing ever. They make harming yourself hard, but not impossible. Then again, if you wanted to hurt yourself that bad, that's what a padded room is for.

Opening the box, I was hit with several different aromas that made my stomach turn. I held back a wimper, and forced the meatloaf down. As expected, it was cold and flavorless. It felt like eating a mass of textured paper. There were sections of vegetables that were likewise disgusting. I shoveled it in my mouth and swallowed, much to my hesitancy, and chased the poor food down with the water.

They could at least try to make the food pleasurable if they're going to make me eat. Though they made a promise. I ate, therefore I'm allowed to leave.

But he said something about a friend waiting for me. I have no friends, and my mother wouldn't dare interrupt a date to bother with her mental case of a son. Try as she might to be a good mother, this leads to the reasoning I have on why I dislike her so much.

Go ahead and throw up some biblical references on how a child should treat their parental figures. I've never been one for religion anyways.

I was out of the room before you could call my bluff or catch my insanity. I'm like a growing mold on a piece of food left in the back of the fridge. Slowly rotting and contaminating everything else in the area as well. Something needed thrown out. Can't the world see that's what I'm trying to do?

The wind sent a chill up my spine like the creeping predator on its prey. This weather is my favorite. I love the cold. Because no one really questions why you remain in long sleeves or constantly wear a jumper when they do as well. Whereas the summer is a whole new story. That's when suspicion rises from the miniscule amount of people that actually give a fuck in this world and we can't have that. We can't have people caring. Caring only gives the world something to stomp out and burn down. Hope has the same negative effects. Burning down- wouldn't I like to see the world burn. Flames engulfing everything as well as myself.

A car pulled to the front and someone pushed the door open. Open to reveal a face I'm not sure I wanted to see.

Vic Fuentes looked at me with raging disappointment. Well welcome to the club.

I got in, instantly diving into warmth that seemingly seeped into my veins. I wanted to be back out there. Maybe, just maybe, I'd be bitten with frost and hypothermia to the point they can't fix me. Leaned up against a cold and lifeless pole much like my body would be growing to resemble.

"You've some explaining to do." He said in a monotonous voice. No, I do fucking not. I don't have to explain my life to you, and I won't. I have a plan and you're not allowed to interfere.