Percabeth One-Shots

Long Sleeves~23

A/N: Trigger warning-Self-harm, depression, anxiety. Please DO NOT read if you have issues with these.

I didn't think anyone would find out about this. I guess I thought, in my sick mind, that I could just suffer alone. You know, in silence, so I couldn't burden anyone with my problems. But you can't expect people to react casually to you wearing long sleeves in the summer. Or to you being silent all the damn time. Depression is actually fairly identifiable.

My father found me in the bathroom at 6:39, right after dinner, on a white winter day in early December. To be more specific, he found me with bloody and scarred limbs. That wasn't a good day for me or him. He found out that his daughter was so depressed she hurt herself. And I had a very nerve-wracking talk with my father about my emotions and mental state while he bandaged up my wrists. 

So now I'm here, at a psychiatric center right out of New York City. My father thought it'd be a good idea because I'm, well, depressed. I think my stepmom thought it'd be good because I'll be out of the house, away from her sight. And me? To be honest, I don't know what to think.

Architecture is one of the things in my life which make me happy. High ceilings, gorgeous color combinations, pretty much everything the opposite of this place. This place was a permanent rainy day-very grey and sad. My shoes pound against the hard concrete floors on the way to the wooden front desk.

My father does all the talking, as my voice would probably come out small if I talked. The woman he's talking to seems nice. She isn't looking at me like I'm a puppy without a home, but she still invites me in with her soft eyes. I pick up from their conversation that her name is Laura.

My dad turns to me when he's done checking me in. He grabs my right hand in his. "Be safe, okay? Please?"

I pull back my lower lip between my teeth before nodding. "I'll try, dad. I promise."

He then hugs me, which is an odd feeling since he hasn't hugged me in a while. "I love you, sweetie."

"Ms. Chase? Sorry to interrupt, but Ms.J wants to speak with you." Laura cuts in, as politely as she can.

I pull away from my dad, smile at him, and say, "I love you, too. See you... Whenever."

He just nods, before walking over to the front door, and waving to me with a sad look before leaving. I exhale a long breath and lick my dry, chapped lips. Slowly, I walk over to Laura and follow her to Ms.J's office, I'm assuming.

Ms.J is a middle-aged lady who looks strict about most things in life. She tells me about the hospital, the things you should do, and the things you shouldn't. Like how I should try to interact with the other patients, but not sneak out at night to hang out with them. The tour of the hospital, to say the least, is awkward. I follow her around quietly, not really paying attention to the things she's saying. I pay more attention to the different patients sitting around. And how they all have the same look in their eyes.

Finally, she leaves me in the cafeteria at a table where four other people are sitting, telling me this is my 'assigned meal seat.' I sit down,  trying to cover up my wrists with my sweatshirt, even though this is a mental hospital. Two of them smile at me, the other two stay quiet.

"So what're you in here for?" A girl with black hair, but very blue eyes asks me bluntly.

I blink once or twice before answering. "My dad walked in on me cutting."

"Fuck, that must have been awkward, huh?" She teases, nudging me in the side with her elbow.

"C'mon, leave her alone, Thalia," another girl with red hair says.