w r e c k a g e ✓

the wreckage of his mind

❝I heard he attempted suicide because he wanted attention from his already loaded mommy and daddy. Selfish brat.❞

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PSYCHOTIC DEPRESSION. All the signs had pointed to it. His doctor had said that it was genetically common for teens to inherit their mother or father's illness. Especially if both parents contained it. It was a 1.3 out of 5 chance. 1.3 chance his ass. When he took his medicine it took weeks before it would finally kick in. And when he did take it, he felt different. His mood changed completely, but it wasn't a good thing. So he stopped taking them. He felt better for a little bit. He thought he did at least.

"Take your medicine, please," his dad begged.

"Why? So I can be just like you?" He had laughed back cynically.

He shook that little memory out of his head. He remembered when he used to be so happy. He was going to be something one day. He was going to graduate his senior year. Go to college. Become an entrepreneur. Have a wife. Have kids.

It was different now. Everyone thought he was crazy. Spoiled. Rotten. They looked at him weird. The little demons in his head would pop up sometimes out of no where. Everyone hates you, they would seethe through blood stained teeth. He screamed. He screamed over their chanting. He rocked back and forth against the bathroom tiles.

Take your medicine, his dad's voice rang out again.

He shook his head yes continuously. He grabbed the half filled bottle of Risperidone and spun the cap open.

Take your medicine, the little demons chanted.

Take your medicine.

Take your medicine.

He downed all twenty four pills one by one. He sat still, leaned against the bathtub. He waited and waited until his system slowly began to shut down.

"There, you happy? I took my medicine," he gave a large grin to particularly no one before collapsing.