Mentally Broken

28

^^^btw the song is punk rock, so it's kinda loud if you don't mind
"Fuck this place," Justin reveals his face out of his sleeves and wipes his nose with a tissue. His eyes are watery, and his nose is a lovable shade of pink.
"They're not helping at all. They only fuck things up." My voice cracks as I dry my eyes with my shirtsleeve.
"I know I can't help it...Wish I didn't h-have these v-voices," Justin sniffles and takes a deep, shaky breath.
"I think you're fine the way you are," I smile warmly at him, putting my personal battles to the side. Justin's grief requires more attention than mine, because I love him more than myself.
"Thanks Mia. You're...the b-best," he hugs me, and I hug him back.
"...I know it's not a phase," he whispers in the hug. I feel like he understands me, and that makes me feel so much better. We separate and sit a few feet away just in case a nurse walks in. Then everything is silent again.
"Mia," Justin cuts through the never ending silence.
"Yeah?" I mumble to his call, allowing his wobbly voice to ring in my ears.
"I...I want to die too," he speaks to the blank tiles, and it makes me unsure if he's directly talking to me.
"What makes you say that?" I ask him like suicide is a normal topic. It kind of is.
"...I-I was thinking...about m-my mom. I-I just t-thought about e-everything, and...I-I don't see why we're here if nobody...wants us around anyway," he explains with hopelessness in his voice. I think he has a good point, yet it doesn't take much convincing for to come to the conclusion of suicide
"I'm not going suicide is the answer, Justin. But I can't change your mind. It's just how you feel." I feel bad, because it feels good to have someone on my side for once. I feel like I am encouraging Justin to kill himself, all because I want someone to agree with me Everyone would get mad at me if I told them about committing suicide. They'd make me feel ashamed of wanting to die. They never knew what it felt like. Justin does.
"...You remind me of my mom...you know?" Justin looks at me with sad, exhausted eyes.
"How?" I look back curiously at him.
"...The way you see things. I-I feel like...you see things like my mom saw things. When y-you tell me your opinion...it's like you're telling me...what my mom felt," he studies me with a certain care that I feel comfortable and safe with.
"Doesn't that scare you?" I know he wants to know about his mom since he didn't understand the whole suicide topic when he was younger, and he deserves to know why she did it. Unfortunately, I don't have exact answers.
"...Nothing scares me anymore," Justin mutters flatly.
"That's understandable. But don't I freak you out a little?" Surely, it has to at least worry him that I remind him of his dead mother.
"N-Not in...a bad way," Justin shrugs lowly.
"Your mom wasn't a happy person, was she." It wasn't spoken as a question, more like a statement. Justin shakes his head and stares at the wall, eyes like cold stones.
"It would've been nice to meet her," I could only imagine meeting someone, who's said to be, like my own self. I doubt it would be all bubbly and happy, more like depressing.
"No...it wouldn't have. Mia...my mom was scary at times. Sh-She hated life, but she n-never thought anything through, like you do. She d-didn't think about me, what would happen to me...You have a different point of view on suicide. You can look in the future and see that everything will be the same...My mom couldn't see that I depended on her...M-Maybe your mom cares about you...but what's your opinion?" Justin looks at me with carefulness, appearing annoyed and frustrated. I don't think it has anything to do with me.
"My opinion...My mom wouldn't have sent me here if she actually thought things through. She would've got me out of here the first time she visited, because I'm miserable. But she continues to leave. If she truly cared about my health, about me, then she would've got me out by now," I answer, making everything clearer now that I've said it out loud.
"But if she did c-care...would you still f-feel sure about s-suicide?" Justin questions uneasily.
"I'd probably feel held back," I wrap myself up tighter in my jacket, because I'm freezing.
"My m-mom wouldn't have seen that...She would've killed herself either way," he stands up and walks to the bed.
"Let's talk about something else."
I feel like Justin's mom is right beside me, listening to every word. And he needs to think about something else.
"W-What do you wanna do when we g-get out of this place?" Justin grabs the blanket and wraps it around me.
"Kill myself," I look in his deep brown eyes as he crouches in front of me.
"...Me too," Justin kisses my forehead. Just when he sits down again, a nurse comes back in with two trays. Thankfully, she's a different nurse, because I don't want to argue anymore.
"Here's lunch." Is all she says before leaving. Justin studies the tray and takes a peanut butter sandwich and bottled water. I ignore it as I self consciously grope my stomach. I feel like I'm still not skinny enough, even though all I feel is skin and bones.
"I...I have another plan," Justin speaks after he finishes his sandwich.
"What is it?" I stop my hateful thoughts to hear him out.
"W-When we...were g-going down the stairs, I...I saw a basement...But I'm not sure if it was a-a basement or n-not," Justin's in deep thoughts as he mutters anxiously.
"Should we check it out?" I'll take any chance of getting out of here. No place can be any worse than this.
"Yeah...but not today...M-Maybe tomorrow or after," Justin suggests, and I nod in agreement. Everything goes silent again. Justin proceeds to mutter to himself again, and he starts scratching the floor. I just hug myself and close my eyes to the thought of how I'm gonna kill myself when I get out of this hell-hole.
(Justin's pov)
-Dinnertime, 6pm-
Mia and I talk. We talk about each other, our interests. We talk about what we think is on the other side. Mia thinks happiness. I think heaven. They're basically the same thing.

A nurse comes in with dinner, which is a turkey sandwich, green beans, vanilla pudding, and a water. Once she leaves, I take the tray and only eat half the sandwich and the pudding.
Once I finish eating, Mia is sitting with her eyes narrowed. The voices in my head tell me that I don't deserve her, but I can fight this feeling of necessity. I rinse my mouth, then kiss her, gently sliding her on my lap.
"Justin, I'm too—" "Y-You're p-perfect," I'm very careful with her self written cuts as I kiss her. My cold lips lower to her pale neck. Mia lets me kiss and even lightly suck on her neck, because it transports us to a different world, a world with no degrees of perfection, a world with no voices. She seems to like it. I mean, it's a distraction from everything else. The voices proceed to invade my mind, but I don't need my mind to love Mia. For once, I'm able to ignore all the ruckus going on in my head.
Mia's hands bury in my hair as I feel the abused skin beneath her shirt and jacket, full of cuts and scratches. She does the same to me, but we're both too out of breath to enjoy it.
"Justin, I'm tired. Can I sleep with you?" Mia takes her hands off me and exhales quietly.
"Yeah," I remove my hands and lips from her, then cuddle her up, like a normal couple. We don't even come close to normal. We'll never be normal; sick minds aren't normal. Suicidal thoughts aren't normal. 200 calories a day isn't normal. Tracing lines on skin with a razor isn't normal. Seeing imaginary people at night isn't normal. Hearing voices isn't normal. Paranoia isn't normal.

"I love you, Justin," Mia whispers against my cheek, and I kiss her and tell her I love her too.

(A/N: Hey y'all. Where are you from? I'm obviously from Texas, but it's so freaking hot I hate it. Wbu? Next post is on Thursday or Friday)