Mentally Broken

32

Chapter song: Dumb by Nirvana
(Justin's pov)
Mia and I perform our usual routines, appearing innocent yet invisible.
Everyone's says that it's a bad idea to keep everything bottled up, but I have no choice. Anything I say will put me in jail or back here.
"Every other way doesn't help me." Plus, my mind's a hell-hole anyway. Nobody would want to open my hell of a mind.
I feel trapped, somehow unable to survive in my mind. I've tried, but nobody gives a crap. Nobody knows what it's like to live with these voices. They threaten me, make me feel so weak. My past, my schizophrenia is what holds me down. From my first heartbeat, I should've given up.
"I should've just left the world alone." Instead, I've somehow managed to tolerate 19 years of hell, pure, bloody hell.
Four years ago, I wouldn't have thought I would be so...Fucked up.
"Broken." I didn't think my poor mom would kill herself.
I didn't think my drunken father would shatter his skull in a car wreck.
I didn't think my girlfriend would screw me over with my best friend.
I didn't think I'd stab the shit out my lover either.
I didn't think of myself as 'crazy.'
I never saw how fucked up I truly am until someone finally told me.
I never could find a reason for these voices.
"Justin, we should go," Mia touches my hand, pulling into reality. I nod unaffectedly and follow her into the hangout room.
"I have an idea." I want to keep Mia with me forever. When we both die, I want the world to know that I'm not alone. I want everyone to see the strong connection between me and Mia.
"What?" she looks at me with her curious, dark eyes that—no matter how hard she tries—always show her pain.
"...Let's get tattoos." This place has everything to make a tattoo: needles from the sewing area, ink from the painting area, and a few candles.
"Can we?" Mia seems interested, like she always is.
"Y-Yeah, you in?" I know her answer, but I'm just making sure.
"Yes! What do we do?" Mia speaks excitedly but lowers her voice before she attracts too much attention.
"Ok...uhm, get the ink...and a pen; then m-meet me in the closet," I tell her while trying to manage the voices. I'll get the needle and candle. I'm going to have to be very careful with the candle.
With paranoia, I carefully grab a couple needles and vigilantly snatched a lighted candle before making my way to the closet. Mia's already waiting for me.
"So what tattoo are we getting?" The candlelight make her skin look warm and cozy, which isn't normal.
"Uhm, do...do you want m-matching ones?" "Sure. How about something simple? Because we've only got a few hours. I know tattoos take awhile to do," she suggests, and I agree with her.
"I want something that reminds me of us," Mia basically just reads my mind, but not actually. If she really did read my mind, then I don't think she'd be able to look at me the same ever again. Schizophrenia really eats me alive. I've lost my purpose. I've lost everything I used to be. There's no knowing who I am or who I was. All that remains are voices and visions and paranoia.
"A heart?" It's the simplest symbol I can think of. A sign of love.
"Sure. That sounds easy," Mia's smile literally glows, mostly because of the candle.
"...You go first. I...I'll show you how to m-make one," I grab the pen and motion her to draw a heart somewhere on her hand. I then take the needle and hold it over the candle flame; then I dip the needle in the ink.
"G-Give me your hand," I hope I don't hurt her. It's been awhile since I've done this, and my memory is kind of weak.

Mia puts her delicate hand in mine, and I fragilely place the tip of the needle on the skin of her finger. She winces, and I give her a look of worry.
"Keep going. It's just a needle," Mia tells herself yet she's talking to me as well. I keep going until the whole heart is inked on her skin.
"Let it dry," I tell her as I draw a heart on my ring finger, the same place as hers.
"Ready?" I ask after a few minutes.
"Yeah," she bites her lip and takes the needle. Copying my actions, she puts the needle over the flame, dips it in the ink, and takes my hand. Tattoos don't hurt as bad as they used to.
I guess I'm just used to it, used to the pain, the misery, the constant feeling of worthlessness.
But maybe I no longer give a fuck, wether I feel or don't feel, wether I die now or die trying.
(Mia's pov)
-Dinnertime: 5pm-
Justin and I both have matching tattoos of a heart on our middle fingers.
It's supposed to be a reminder of each other when we get the hell out of this place.
A few years from now, I'll look at this tattoo and think of Justin, my first true friend, lover. I'll think back at the days filled with prescribed drugs and secret make out sessions in the closet.
Za's already sitting at our table when we arrive. He looks devastated and torn apart. Something's wrong.
"What happened?" I'm the first to speak for all of us.
"Katie...She died this morning." Za's words rip and tear at my heart. "Wh-what—How?" I can't speak correctly. I just want answers, reasons.
"Asthma attack. Nobody knows how or when it happened," Za explains sadly and painfully. I'm speechless. Katie was so nice to me. How could she have died? We could've been so close. We could've talked about everything. We could've made it to the other side.

Was it an accident? People would've heard her if she called. They would've saved her if she pressed the red emergency button by every bed.
What if she didn't want to be saved? What if she was just like me? Broken? Suicidal?
"She had anxiety, a very severe case. She hated it," Za confesses to us. If Katie hated it, maybe her death wasn't an accident. Maybe she purposely let her breathing stop. Maybe her illness took the best of her.
"I don't know what to do...except die," Za reflects to himself. Justin and I remain silent as we watch his walls crumble. I know they were in love. I could tell by the way they looked at each other, the same way I look at Justin, the same way Justin looks at me.

"Isn't there a medicine room down the hall?" Za asks numbly, drying his eyes. Justin nods as I desperately hold myself together. Katie's dead, which makes me want to break as well. I'm currently apart of someone's suicide plan, which makes everything worse. And it makes me jealous, because I want to die too.
"Well, I'll see you guys...Goodbye." And with that, Za walks away forever, literally. I know there's no coming back for him. That's the last time we'll ever see him again. Even if I tried to stop him, it would be useless. He's already made up his mind.
Finally, I let it all out. I fall apart. Justin secretly squeezes my hand, because anything other will get us in trouble. "Why?" I whimper and sob on the table, feeling Justin beside me. "Alright. Everyone out. Time for bed!" the nurses announce, so Justin and I stand up and leave while I cry like crazy. Really, I try to pick up all the pieces, but it's useless. Everything's scattered. There's no use putting me back together when I'm just gonna break down again and again.

After I use the bathroom and enter our room, I immediately run to Justin and break down on him.
"I-I know...I know i-it hurts," Justin hugs back and comforts me. Why is everything so difficult? How did everyone become stone cold? Why is the world so hateful? Why am I alive when I'm only meant to be destroyed?

(A/N: I think it's so sweet of Ariana to do this concert for Manchester. It's emotional, but it's about love. Y'all stay safe and 'beliebe' (lol💜) next post is on Tuesday or Wednesday)