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CHAPTER SEVEN

Saturday; January 9th; 51 days

Instead of leaving like I'd originally planned, I go back to my room.

The white room and I smell my sheets, and for once, they had a scent. It was a mix of my mother and sister. Like pancakes and tide pods.

Do they use tide pods here?

The medicine is in my system but I feel dizzy and gross. I feel sick, and before I know it I'm crying.

It triggered my depression instead of eliminating it.

That moment I didn't want anything. I didn't want to sleep, I didn't want ot eat, I didn't want to breathe. It was like someone took a semi and ran it over my heart billions of times, like my life was on replay.

Because I missed them, I missed my family.

My whole body just gave out and my vision blurred. My whole life was perfectly fine until this happened. If there is a god then why doesn't he help me? Why doesn't he stop it? Why do I not believe anymore?

I can't live this life because I'm not good enough for it.

But the people, the nurses, the doctors, they tell me I am. They tell me all kinds of things.

"You are very lucky to have made it out."

"Your family would want you to live your life, finish what they couldn't, right?"

"Take your medication."

"The doctors say Sydney is doing good."

Sydney.

Oh my baby sister. My little sister, the little brat, the brat I love so much. I love her so much. I wonder what the new update on her is. Has she woken up? Will she wake up?

I sat in my room. I stared at the blank white wall, imagining all the swirls, the collision of paints.

Collision. It sounds famili-

"Sierra?"

I turn my head towards the door. Nurse Brenda is standing there, a sad look on her face.

"Art class started ten minutes ago."

This is how I found myself sitting in the art room, listening to Miss June telling us to paint our expressions.

"Add thought into it, you want to imagine what you want, what you think, and how you imagine something is like."

I didn't feel like painting today, I asked politely to go to my room.

As I'm walking down the hall, I take notice on how the walls are two different shades of white at the end and the side. The place smells like bleach and tide pods.

Yes, I am still wondering if tide pods are being used.

The thought of laundry disturbs me. I know they use bleach to wash everything because color isn't exactly what we wear but why the smell of a completely different detergent? It reminds me of my mom, detergent does. She always had the scent that made you feel comfortable around her, made you feel safe. I can never remember what it smelled like, although I had known it my whole life.

"Miss Sierra?"

I turn my head and see Nurse Brenda with her hands folded over one another in front of her dress.

"It's a beautiful day outside, would you like to join the others?"

My brain was telling me it was okay, but my heart aches and begged not to go. It was warning me that it wasn't right.

Nurse Brenda gently led me to the door with the man standing beside it and he gave me a small smile.  They knew that I didn't want this, but wanted me to be outside. To see the real world, and accept reality.

Accept that I'm still alive.