6 Juno

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june 8th 2016
***
I wake up in a daze. My vision is blurry and my left arm aches. My body feels heavy as beeps fill my ears. Everything is bright white and hurting my eyes. So I close them again.

When I open my eyes again they're no longer blurry. And it's dark. I turn my head to find my mom asleep on a cot next to my bed. My dad is asleep in a chair holding my hand on my other side. I don't know why I'm here.
I cough lightly and my dad stirrs before lifting his head and looking at me.
"Hi daddy, where am I?" I whisper, my voice cracking.
"Oh honey. We're in the hospital. You tried to kill yourself last night" he says in a hushed tone, tears filling his voice. I just stare at him. Then I remember.

Looking at my messages
The ripping of everything off the walls. Smashing the lamp. Holding the shard to my wrist.
Sarah

I look at my dad and shake my head slightly "I'm so sorry daddy. I'm so sorry" I repeat myself over and over again before he hugs me close, shushing me. I fall back to sleep in his arms.

I wake up with the IV's gone and the beeping noise has stopped. My parents aren't in the room so I sit up and look around.
It's your basic bland hospital room. The tvs playing a black and white show, the volumes muted.
There are many flower vases around the room filled with flowers.
I stand up and clutch my blanket around me.
There are hospital slippers on the floor so I slip into those before making my way to the in-room bathroom and doing my business before coming back out. My parents walk in and see me out of bed. Instant panic.

My mom rushes over and pulls me to the bed while my dad calls the nurse in to check on me.
" mom I just had to pee calm down please everything is fine." I say, she drags me to my bed anyways and makes me sit down.

The nurse walks in. She's older than me. Dark brown hair and a soft face. She smiles and checks my vitals and asks me health questions. Before explaining why I'm here and that I'll have to be evaluated by the hospital therapist. I give my consent to be evaluated and they call up the therapist.
He asks me many questions, like how I am, why I did this, how I've been feeling, how long have I felt this way.
I answer with : I'm good. I did this because I wanted to be with Sarah. I've been feeling exhausted. About two months. Since she died.

He tells me that this is my grieving process. But he wants me to take medication for this. He prescribes me antidepressants and my mother leaves to go have them filled. My dad signs my release forms and the nurse gives him extra tape and bandages for my arm.

We're in the car on the way home and my dad reaches over and holds my hand. My mom grips my other hand with the pills in her lap.

When we get home I take one of the pills and go to shower. After wrapping my arm in plastic wrap I step in the just let the water flow over me. I was in the hospital for three days. I wash away three days of sweat and grime.
I dry myself off and step into a pair of pajama shorts and a tank top and change the bandages on my arm. The line is clean and straight. Sixteen perfect stitches. Tight and straight. I bandage and tape it before going into my room. It's trashed.

I slowly pick up all my photographs and put them in a box. I sweep up the broken lamp shards and throw them away. I stare at the blood still on the floor and wipe it up quickly. My room is bare and bright. My heart is heavy.
I lay on my bed until dinner. Eat then come back to my bed. 

I sleep soundly all night.

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