Mentally Disturbed

Chapter Six

"We can't afford that. Our bills are getting out of hands" says my mother as she mutely converses with my father in the kitchen. I'm lightly stroking my guitar in the living room as I listen in.

"Look, I'll try to aim for a higher position. I understand we need the money. Don't worry about it." My father reassures. I sneak a peak behind the couch to see him slouched onto the island counter as he pinches his nose out of stress. His wrinkles evident on his forehead.

"I think it's best, that Arnold stopped the guitar lessons." My mother said, and they both turn to my direction as I turn back towards the TV with my guitar in hand.

I already knew what the results would be. That I'd have to stop with the lessons because we're becoming poor.

A man visited us a week ago. He was in a suit and tie and carried a brief case. He had my parents sign a few documents and I could see the water flooding my mothers eyes as I sneakily peaked behind the stairs.

All I heard was the faint word 'bankrupt' and I didn't need to ask to know what it meant.

Now hearing I had to give up my guitar lessons at 12 years old, and previously seeing my father sell one of his old TVs and some of my game boys and a few pieces of furniture, I'm starting to feel like we're really crashing down and I'm becoming a big burden to the family.

My mother sobs as I put my guitar down and head upstairs to my room. I punched the wall for the first time that night.

I wake up in my room. Well, not my room but the room I was assigned in this psychiatric unit. It's been a few days since I've been here but it feels like a week. I was only assigned a week here so I just have to hold on for a few more days.

My head hurts as I think about what I did yesterday. I actually can't remember. I feel so numb, and, and sad. I don't know why.

I get up and stumble to the bathroom, splashing cold water onto my face in hopes of feeling better. But my headache just gets worse as my temples tingle upon the coldness.

I open the upper cabinet above the sink in hopes of finding some Advil or something, but of course I wouldn't find any medication.

You're in a fucking hospital Arnold just fucking ask them.

Wow, someone's grumpy today.

I brush my teeth and wash my face once more. I towel my face down as I walk back out into my room. It's already 11:00, did I really sleep in?

I turn my door knob and exit into the hallways, in search of some Advil and a bite to eat.

After getting 2 pills from one of the nurses at the counter, I head to the water fountain and swallow the pills. Followed down with a cup of water.

As I throw the drained cup into the trashbin, a door behind me opens and a blonde girl comes out. She smiles at seeing me and I realize who it is.

"You're up pretty late." I say, smirking at her.

"I was up hours ago, I didn't see you at breakfast." She says, grabbing a cup and pressing the water fountain as water pours into it.

"Slept in." I said. Running my fingers roughly through my hair.

"Nice bed hair." She says, giggling.

We both walk to the cafeteria as lunch was starting. I stab into my plate as I devour it all. I was seriously fucking hungry.

Huh. I'm swearing a lot in my mind today.

"Aren't you gonna eat that." I ask her with a monotone voice. I was really darn hungry because I was devoid of breakfast.

"Oh no, go ahead and take mine." She said, sliding the plate over to me with a smile. I stack her plate on top of my now empty one and dig in without a Thank You.

When I'm done eating I lean back in my chair and let out a burp.

She giggles.

"So what do you want to do today?" She asks.

"How am I supposed to know." I reply bluntly. I don't know why I'm being so rude today.

"Well, I had fun yesterday." She said, looking down onto her lap as her cheeks turn a little pink.

What did we do yesterday?

"Can't remember." I simply reply.

Her face shoots up at my response. Her cheeks drop a little and I swear she's wearing a slight frown.

"I'm gonna go back to sleep. I feeling like shit today." I say as I get up pushing my chair vigorously back and stalk off to my room.

I'm feeling angry, and sad, and stressed at the same time.

And I don't fucking know why.

I slam my door shut and drop to my bed. I can't stop thinking about my dream, about my parents feeling so burdened and disappointed. Because of me. It's all because of me.

I tug on the blankets and cover my face, falling back to sleep on my not so soft hospital pillow.

When can I fucking go home?