Inpatient | Dan Howell | AU |

0.2

When I become conscious I wake up in the Emergency room. I'm not in my own clothes, and my arms are bandaged with an IV in the crook of my elbow. A nurse walks by, and notices I am awake. She steps in and closes the door.

"Hello dear, a doctor will be in here shortly. Do you need anything? Would you like the television remote?" the nurse asks.

I shake my head.

The nurse backs out of my room. "I have to leave the door open. This guard is just going to sit here and watch you, we can't leave a suicidal patient on their own. I'm sorry." the nurse points to a rather large security guard. He gives me a small smile and looks away.

After about forty minutes of waiting, a doctor comes in and greets me.

"I'm Kristin. I'm a case manager here. Do you know where you are?" She steps in and closes the door. I shake my head. "You're at Mercy Medical institute. You arrived here after a friend of yours found you in the bathroom with quite a lot of blood on the floor. He called an ambulance. I'm here to help you."

Fucking Phil. I knew I should've replied to his fucking texts. God damnit.

"So Gillian, when did these feelings of suicide start?" I looked at Kristin and shrugged my shoulders. "I know you don't want to be here, I don't want you to be here but if you don't communicate with us, you won't get help. If you don't get help, you can't leave." Her tone was soft, even though she basically said I was in prison.

"Maybe a year. I don't know" I shrugged. I knew exactly how long. I've been depressed ever since I had realized I had been verbally abused by my father since childhood. I've buried it deep inside of me my whole life and now it just exploded.

"Have you ever been abused? Has anyone ever hit you, or touched you in an inappropriate way?"

I froze. I shook my head slightly and hid my eyes. I spaced out, giving empty answers to painful questions.

"Remember, I legally cannot repeat anything you tell me. Unless you are going to harm yourself, someone else, or if you're being physically abused. So please be honest"

Again, I shake my head and dart my eyes to the corner.

"Okay Gillian, now if you could just fill out this sheet for me, that'd be great," Kristin hands me a piece of paper filled with questions about my feelings. "Please answer them truthfully,"

I take the paper and the pen and awkwardly fill out the questionnaire. It was basically a depression test, and if you had a high score, you'd mostly likely be put into Inpatient care. Kristin watches me closely as I fill out the form.

"What?" I ask her when we make eye contact.

"I'm not supposed to let you fill it out because suicidal patients can't have sharp objects. The hospital classifies that pen as a dangerous tool. I just wanted to make it easier for you. Just don't tell anyone."

"Thank you," I mumble and continue to fill out the sheet, more honestly this time. I hand Kristin the paper and pen. "What time is it?" I ask her.

"It's 4:32 am. Rest up, I'll be back soon, okay?" Kristin walks out and leaves the door open for the security guard. I sit back and stare at the ceiling.

I fucking love Phil. He's my bestfriend. He's one of the few things I'd miss here. Sometimes, he gets on my fucking nerves. Much like tonight. I wouldn't be sitting in a hospital if he'd just leave me alone. He's a ray of sunshine and I'm a fucking storm cloud. We're polar opposites. Many occasions I've told him to forget about me, but he refuses to. I am silently grateful that he wouldn't leave me in the dust, but there are better people out there that he should be worrying about.

After about an hour and a half, Kristin comes back into my room.

"Hi Gillian. After going over your test scores with my supervisor, she recommends that you go to Inpatient care," Kristin looks at me almost apologetically.

Oh how fucking great.

"We'll be taking you to Inpatient care soon, just a few things. Your belongings you had with you when you arrived are in this bag." Kristin holds up a clear plastic bag with my name and information on it. "We can either call a family member to pick it up, or with your consent, we can give it to your friend, Phillip Michael Lester,"

"Phil, give it to Phil. Can he come in for a few moments?" I ask.

"Sure, I'll have a nurse get him. He's been sitting outside for the past 5 hours you've been here." Kristin smiles and sets the bag at the foot of my bed. Through the bag I can see my bloodstained shirt and shorts. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I open my eyes again, Phil is standing next to my bed. I sit up and hug him.

"I love you Phil." I inhale his familiar scent.

"I love you more. You better never ever, ever do that again Gillian Marie, or I'll have a heart attack," Phil squeezes me tightly.

"I love you most," I say back to him. Ever since we had watched the movie Tangled, that had been our thing.

I've known Phil since I was eight, and I had a primary school crush on him. I grew out of it, and we became best friends.

"Take my crap, I'm not going home. They're making me stay," I sighed.

"You're going to get help here, I know it," Phil assured me, as he grabbed my bag. He gave me another small wave before he walked out and closed my door.

"So in a few minut-"

"More waiting? Everytime you say 'few minutes' an hour passes by," I cut Kristin off.

"Emergency rooms just work that way, I know. It stinks. This time I mean it though, a nurse will come with a wheelchair and she'll take you to Inpatient," Kristin promises.

"Thank God,"

"So while you're in Inpatient, you'll have a schedule, and group therapy sessions. You will have visiting time, and telephone time. You must eat what you are given, and not what any patient gives you. They run a pretty tight shift upstairs, so just listen to what the nurses tell you and you'll be out in no time," Kristin briefs me about what I should expect when I go upstairs.

As if on cue, after Kristin is done talking, someone knocks softly on the door and brings a wheelchair in along with some sweatpants, slippers, and a grey jumper.

"Hi Gillian, I'll escort you to Inpatient, but first I need to take out your IV. It might hurt," The peppy nurse bounces.

I roll my eyes.

"I'll be your case manager when you go upstairs, so if you need something, you can go to my office," Kristin smiles and walks out the door.

The nurse pulls out my IV and hands me the clothes. "This is what you'll wear upstairs. Everyone wears the same thing. I'll step out so you can change. You can leave your undergarments and your hospital issued socks on. Everything else must go," the nurse steps out and almost closes the door.

I sigh. This is going to be the longest trip of my life. I just want to go home. I don't want to be here in this shithole.

"I'm ready," I call to the nurse standing outside. She walks in and helps me out of bed.

"I'm Sue. Don't worry, I work with kids like you all the time. Don't be nervous," Sue reassures me as she wheels me out of my room.

The ride up to inpatient is awkward and silent. Sue wheeled me out of the elevator and used her ID card to open a set of sliding mechanical doors.

"Welcome to Inpatient."