Remi Never Smiles ✔️

Chapter 15

~Remi~

"She's waking up," I hear.

My eyes flutter open. I'm in a hospital room once again, surrounded by a tall blonde, a small brunette, and a woman I despise.

My mouth is dry so I can barely speak. "Get out."

My eyes adjust and I've made eye contact with her.

"What?" she asks.

"Get the fuck out!" I scream.

Luke and Michael are trying to calm me down. I try to pick something up to throw at her but my arms and legs are strapped down.

"GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT!"

She stands up. "You ungrateful crazy little girl." And leaves.

I'm screaming and crying, thrashing around as hard as I could. The voices are louder and more intense.

You failed. You can't even kill yourself right. They're mocking you. Look at them. Look at him. He doesn't love you. He pities you. You are worthless.

I scream louder, my throat aching. It feels like my head is on fire. I try and reach up to cover my ears, maybe to soften the sounds, but I'm stuck. I cry harder and I barely notice Michael in a chair across the room, sobbing. Luke has gone out for help.

Minutes later, still screeching my lungs out, three nurses come in.

They're helping you. They're gonna make you live as long as possible. You don't want that. Fight back.

I manage to scream louder, crying out for Luke. "Help me."

He looks away, grabs my brother, and leaves the room, leaving me to thrash about while the men in white scrubs hold me down and shove a needle up my arm that makes my world go black.

~

I wake up 6 hours later.

It's 10 PM. Luke is huddled on an uncomfortable couch with my sleeping brother at his side. He's looking out of the window, blue eyes widening with every little change in his stare.

"Luke." My throat is dry and in pain and my voice is a hoarse whisper.

I'm surprised he heard. His head turns to me, his look changing from curious to concerned, and he gently moves Mikey aside.

He rushes up to me. "Are you okay, Rem? Do you need a nurse?"

I shake my pounding head. "Water."

He hurries to grab me a cup of water and a straw from the bedside table.

I move my hand to reach for the cup, but my arms are still strapped. I look up at Luke with pleading eyes.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he says.

"C'mon, I just want to hold my cup."

"I'm not supposed to take your restraints off, Rem. Just drink from the straw."

I huffed and did as told, sipping from the straw that was held out in front of me. I felt helpless. Like a child that couldn't control their emotions and had to act out.