Lana Parrilla Saved Me

'I'm sorry, I tried'

Christie's pov

The first few days in the institute were hell. I couldn't sleep because of the piercing screams, aggressive shouts and serious dramas. I told my on site therapist that I couldn't sleep so they upped my dosage of routine sleeping medication. I was also put Prozac to see if it would help with my depression. The medication was making me so tired. I hadn't yet seen a change in my mood as the medicine takes three weeks to fully get in your system. I couldn't stop thinking about my parents. I needed them. You never get too old for parents comfort. I also kept thinking about Lana and the look she gave me. The one tear that fell hit me hard. It's like she was upset, but she was trying so hard to not let it show. All I wanted to do was make a run for it but I knew I had to get better. Everyone was routing for me. They had so many random therapy groups at the hospital. They had drama therapy where you had to act out you problems with another person. We had music therapy where we played a song that meant something to us and had to explain why we listened to it and if it helped us. There was also art therapy where we expressed our feeling through art. I always scribbled a load of different colours on my paper which symbolised confusion. I wasn't talking to the therapist when I had individual therapy. They wanted to know what was going on in my head but I found it so hard to open up to them. They said that if I didn't start talking, they would have to keep me in for longer than three months. At that point, I didn't care. I didn't care how long I had to stay, why I had to stay or if I even got better. I didn't care about anything. Another week and a half had gone by and I was starting to make friends. It made me more motivated to try and talk about my problems so I could get the hell out of there. I made one friend who meant a lot to me and still does to this day. His name is Ellis. He was in hospital for Bipolar Disorder type 2, bulimia nervosa and clinical depression. He had only been in there three weeks before me and was set to be there for a year. We were able to talk so openly about our problems. He's been the only person I have ever really been able to talk to. It was the night before my parents and Lana were going to visit me for the first time. It wasn't a good night. It was about two o'clock in the morning and I woke up to a feeling of discomfort. I thought nothing of it and tried to get back to sleep. I couldn't. I could feel something wasn't right. I started to shake because is was so out of the ordinary. I opened the door to my room and looked up and down the corridor. There were wardens at the end of the hall but they were sat playing pretend poker and I was sure they were drunk. Thinking back to it now, they probably were. I put my dressing gown on and ran down the corridor to the communal bathroom. It was locked. I could hear wincing and crying. I knew it was Ellis.

'Ellis, open the door now' I whispered.

'No, I can't. Go away Christie. Leave me alone' he said quietly.

'I'm going to get someone then' I said with a strict voice.

'Wait, no, don't. I'll open it' he said with a shaky voice.

He opened the door and I already knew what I was going to find. I opened it all the way and my eyes shot to the pool of blood on the floor. He looked right into my eyes, with dripping wrists.

'I'm sorry, I tried'