Ria stares at me, a brief look of surprise flitting through her eyes. I guess she hadn't expected me to be quite so....happy. Ah well, a diagnosis of depression doesn't necessarily bring to mind my sunny disposition. Okay...sunny/sarcastic disposition. I'm kind of like a sarcastic sun, like the one you always drew when you were a kid, the sunglasses on that yellow globe classing up the joint. I smile a little bit at Kade, whose concerned gaze asks questions I can't quite answer. I can't stand to see the look of disappointment in his eyes if he knew what I did. I never can. To avoid ruining one of my only healthy relationships, I avoid the topic completely. Yes, that is my version of a healthy relationship. If you met my family, you'd understand. "So how was life out in the real world?"
"Jazz, if you've forgotton, we're in a mental hospital, there is no real world for us." Kade whispers the last part, his tone imitating a parent telling their child that Santa Claus was not, in fact, real.
"And the Easter Bunny?!" I shout, garnering the attention of the tables around us.
Kade gives me a weird look. "Isolation's done something to you."
Oh, if only he knew the half of it. Now, I might actually believe that I'm batshit crazy. But we won't open that can of worms. Speaking of actually crazy people, I turn to Ria, the schizophrenic. She might be a useful source of information if I ever decide to accept my craziness, but for now, I'll just try to help get her through what will probably be one of the hardest experiences of her life. Accepting her fate. What? I never said I was heartless, and I've always had a soft spot for newbies. "Hi, welcome to Happylane Mental Hospital, where the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. Except in our case, the fence is higher, and they don't really like it when you try to climb over. Trust me, I've tried." The shock on her face was so priceless, I just couldn't contain my laughter. Okay, maybe I am just a little bit heartless. The laughter stopped as abruptly as the slap on the back of my head. I turn to glare at the culprit, giving Kade the best impression of a serial killer I could.
"I apologize for Jazz," Kade says quietly, "she hasn't been quite right, since, well, forever."
My serial killer impression turned into me searching for a knife, a fork, anything that could possibly cause bodily harm to my so-called "best friend". I'm so done with that piece of dungnugget. I'm really going to have to work on my insults. Seeing Ria tense up at every new movement, I abandon my search and turn to her with a somewhat serious face, knowing that not everyone's coping method is laughter. "Sorry, I'm Jazz. I'm sure Kade has already told you about me, but he probably lied about everything."
"I'm Ria." She manages to squeak out her name, but I can tell she's already relaxing, her body slowly sinking into her chair. Glad I made the first move, she opens up a bit more and allows herself a small smile. Infinitesimally tiny, but I can still tell it's there. It's there, giving me hope for future interactions with my identical twin, diagnostic wise.
"I am sorry about my earlier comments, it's not all bad here, especially if you have Dr. Bamph as your main physician. She's usually pretty laid back."
"What about Dr. Fresdit?," she asks cautiously.
I try to hide my look of contempt, my lip curling up quickly with a look of disgust. "Be careful around him. If you want to ask questions, go to Dr. Bamph or one of the orderlies, and try to keep your time with him to a minimum. Only tell him what he wants to hear, and you'll be fine."
Kade sighs at my uncensored words, hopping in to comfort as Ria's face slowly pales. "He's not that bad. Just keep under the radar, and don't break the big rules in here. Jazz seems to have a little problem with that, which landed her in isolation earlier." The eyes he turns to me tell me that we aren't quite done with that conversation yet. Honestly, Kade should be the psychiatrist here. On the other hand, you probably don't want your psychiatrist stealing things out of your purse while you try and share your deep and meaningful feelings. That sounded cynical. I've just never been one for feelings. Before we could delve deeper into the guidelines of sinking into an even deeper depression here at Happylane, an announcement comes on. One that I'd completely forgotten about. One that causes more dread in me than even Dr. Fresdit. Visiting Hours. My parents are here.
My vision dims and I start to shake. I have to pull it together. Come ON Jazz, pull it together! Don't let them see weakness. The sympathetic looks from Kade and Fae aren't helping either, even though I know they mean the best. I shake my head, and my vision begins to clear, and I check to make sure that my emotional walls are unbreakable, ready to put on a show for both my parents and the watchful eyes in the visiting room. I enter the uncharacteristic room, its walls filled with joyful paintings, the glass reflecting the sunlight pouring in from the giant windows placed around the majority of the room. All a lie. A lie meant to convince parents that they had done the right thing, giving up their children, and in my case, letting them forget that they had any responsibilities in caring for the child at all. My eyes scan the deceitful room, trying not to let the joyful reunions of many families affect my current numbness. There. My eyes land upon them, the perfectly dressed couple who looked like they had nothing to hide. But they did. They had everything to hide.
I approach, greeting them with a curt nod. They greet me with hugs and smiles, actors planning to put on a perfect performance. "I'm so happy to see you, are you doing better dear?" my mother gushes out, the uncharacteristic smile probably already straining her mouth muscles.
I return the favour of keeping the act up. "Perfect. It's been great here, and I'm really starting to feel better with the new drugs they have me on." We keep up the falsified banter for another 2 hours, the urge to say what I really have on my mind getting stronger every minute. Finally, it's over and I allow myself to sneak back into my room, lie down on my bed and close my eyes. The memory surprises me, having been strong enough to block them for years. I guess with everything that is going on, even my own brain is failing me. Oh, who am I kidding? My brain has been failing me for a long time now.
*Trigger Warning: Parental Abuse*
It starts out fuzzy, but soon clarity comes and I recognize my old house. Soon, the screaming make me recognize the exact moment I've dropped in on. While I was out at school, my mom had done her usual snooping, but this time, she found my secret stash of blades. Of course she told my dad, who promptly joined forces with my mother. They were currently screaming at me, calling me weak, a failure, a disappointment. The same words ring in my head today. But it wasn't until she brought out the box of razors that I was doomed. She grabbed one, and in her anger, started slashing me, the cuts running up and down my body, with a concentration on my forearms, my defensive wounds. My father did nothing, he just stood there, watching her slowly decimate whatever happiness I still harbored. After what seemed like forever, the stinging stopped. With my body curled in a fetal position, I could hear, but not see, my parents leave the room. I didn't move, the shock freezing me, but delivering a welcome numbness. My peaceful ignorance of the situation did not last for long, the sirens of an ambulance breaking through my rêverie. My first thought was one of relief. Maybe the neighbours had heard my screams, and called 911. I should have known better. The paramedics rush into my room, pinning me down and quickly issuing a sedative. As I slowly drifted out of consciousness, I vaguely heard their voices. "Safety...suicide risk...suicide watch...psychological evaluation". But didn't they see that I didn't do this to myself?! And then the truth hits me. As a doctor herself, the paramedics would believe anything my mother told them. I blacked out, helpless and truly alone.
That's how I ended up here. Happylane Mental Hospital, and the rest of my life.
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I'M SORRY I'M SORRY I'M SO SORRY I'M SOSOSOSOSOSOSOSO SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME FOR BEING A TERRIBLE AUTHOUR
I know no excuse will cover this, but I've been trying to take 16 high school courses for this year and it's been very, very, very time consuming. I hope to be a better authour, especially since I love to write this story, and I've got some more stuff in the works. Who needs sleep right?
Anyways, I love you guys so much and I hope you enjoy this chapter! It went a bit darker than I was expecting, but hopefully it turned out okay.
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Escape
HumorJazz is a 15 year old girl who currently resides at Happylane Mental hospital where she has to deal with depression and a diagnoses of schizophrenia which she doesn't exhibit any of the symptoms.......at least she thinks she doesn't. Watch her as sh...
