Remember Me //[Sequel to Promise Me] Completed [✔️]

Beef & Cheese

Tegan's P.O.V
August 2015

~~~

Hospitals are weird.

You're either giving birth to a beautiful child, or on your death bed. There's no in between, unless you're me, then you wish you were on your death bed, but instead you're just dead on the inside.

There's an abundance of disinfectant fumes in the air, I think they're really starting to get to my head, I feel kind of light headed, and I feel like I'm breathing fuzz . There's a loud obnoxious beeping sound that goes off like every five seconds.

It smells like beef and cheese here.

"Miss Malik," a middle aged man appears in the doorway, a stethoscope around his neck, ugly shoes on his feet. "How are you feeling?" He smiles at me, adjusting the clipboard under his arm.

You mean, how am I feeling after I just slit my wrists?

"I'm as good as can be expected." I tampered with the bandages wrapped around my wrist, a dark red staining the outside.

"Well, don't you think it's time we have a chat, yes?"

"I don't have a choice, do I?" I deadpan. "Look, doc, I already know what you're going to tell me. I know this isn't normal, but I don't care."

"Why don't you care?" He asks.

I roll my eyes. "Because," I say, defiantly, like I wasn't just found in my bathroom. "I left a note, try reading that."

"I have." He doesn't hesitate. "What happened in Boston?"

"We are all gonna die someday, I'm just tired of waiting."

"That's not a good thing to want. You know that, yes?" I nod, annoyed. "Most people want to live their life to the best of their ability, and for as long as possible. Why don't you?"

"Well, we're all different, aren't we, doc?" I say, eyeing his stethoscope.

"So, you agree you shouldn't be thinking like this?"

"Sure."

"Why do you think you think like this?" He asks, writing stuff on his clipboard.

I huff, crossing my arms. I wince at the pain, but don't uncross my arms.

"You are depressed." He states.

"Am I?" I question, sarcastically.

"Would you like something to eat?"

"Most definitely not."

"I think we should get Mr. Malik?" He suggests.

I don't respond. He gets up quickly, and walks back out of the room, shutting the door behind him. Seconds later he comes back with Zayn.

Zayn's eyes were bloodshot, dark circles rimming the underneath of his eyes, and his hair sticking up in different directions. He looked like absolute hell.

Zayn pulled a chair up next to the side of my bed and sat in is, he glanced at me, but I didn't look at him.

"We've been looking into everything, and Tegan has been diagnosed with clinical depression. Depression is one of those illnesses that has been diagnosed subjectively. We took a blood test as well. Talking to Tegan, and observing her we concluded she was depressed, the blood test was just the security that she does have depression." The doctor explained to Zayn and I.

Depressed?

"I'll leave you two to talk." The doctor says, leaving the room.

The room stays silent for a solid minute. I hear sniffling coming from Zayn. I look over at him, his face is buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking.

"What are you doing, Tegan?" Zayn asks, his voice cracking.

"What do you mean?" I asked, uncrossing my arms, and pushing myself up.

"What are you doing to yourself?" He asks, looking up at me with glossy red eyes.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?" He rhetorically asks. "Tegan, this isn't nothing. You're in the hospital for fucks sake!"

"I know."

Could I have killed myself that night? I wanted it to end. I had never thought about dying while I was awake, only in my dreams. Maybe I would get hit by a car, or caught in a fire. I most definitely don't belong here, in life, so I must belong in the afterlife.

The bed dips down beside me as the only person I've even known as a father sits down, next to my hip. "Why did you do it in the first place?"

"I hate myself." I state, bluntly.

"Why? You haven't always been like this. You used to be so happy." Zayn's voice was soft, almost comforting.

"I-" I was cut off by the sound of the door opening. Doc peeked his head around the door.

"I have an update on information." He spoke, coming further into the room.

He pulls Zayn out of the room and I sit there.

When Zayn comes back he swallows, deeply. He looks at the ground for a few minutes.

"Have you been eating?" He stares deep into my eyes, his own glistening.

"What?"

"You heard me."

I don't answer.

"Tegan, please, answer." He begs.

I look at the ground.

"What did they tell you?" I ask.

"Bone mineral loss, irregular slow heartbeat, abnormal blood counts, vitamin and mineral deficiencies."

"I do not have a fucking eating disorder! I don't have depression. I'm just a fat, ugly girl." I shouted, trying to get up from my bed, starting to sob.

Zayn sat down again quickly, holding my shoulders back.

"We can help you." He whispers. "But you need to tell me what happened in Boston."

~~~

hey little birdies

have you guys heard about the Home Project?

let's get Home by our boys on the radio!

vote for Home on the Elvis Duran Top 5 or whatever it's called

it's #HomeIsWhere1DIs week!!

we can do this guys!

~Tyson