A messed up teenage diary

4/3/17

1:04Pm

I live with Autism.

I'm lonely. But I just saw my friend from treatment.

STORY TIME (ooh) (Ahh)

Back in 9th grade, on a Monday, my Mom pulled me out of geometry class. She was in the hall. And told me we were going to tour a school in Corvallis. Just to see what it was like.

So I sat in the car for an hour, until we arrived at this 10-acre property that was bordered by 7-foot fences. There were different buildings everywhere. Scattered throughout the property.

My Mom drove to the nicest building. There was a small play-set in front of it. We walked inside to a small waiting area. I sat down while Mom talked to the lady behind the desk.

We waited for what seemed like hours. Finally, some lady called our names. We followed her into a conference room.

I don't remember what really went down in that room. But all I remember is that I didn't want to be there.

After the conference, my mom drove me around and pointed out the buildings.

One section of the property was a bunch of small houses all separated by fences. Most of them were small, single story ones. A sign was out front of each one. The signs in order read "Mallet cottage", "Powers cottage", "Cummings cottage, "Sequoia cottage" and "Francis Elizabeth cottage".

Francis Elizabeth cottage was two story. The color was a faded green. And it was the only cottage separate from the others. It was across the street. It was isolated by its own fence. The others were all next to each other with a fence separating each cottage.

All the other cottages were also painted different. They were all yellow, dark orange, purple, and gray.

200 yards away from the houses was the school. It was different classrooms in the shape of a square. A big grass field was in the middle of the square. All the classrooms surrounded it.

That evening, I didn't really think much of the tour until my mom came up to my room.

"So, what did you think?" she asked

"Of the school?"

"Yes, did you like it?"

"Uh, it was okay I guess."

"Effective Tomorrow, you're no longer enrolled at North."

"WHAT?!" I shouted

"You'll be a client at Trillium Farm Home and School Psychiatric Treatment."

I almost asked why. I knew why. My depression was really bad, I was cutting myself a lot, I was taking pills, getting in fights at school, and shutting people out.

"Get some rest. We'll leave at 7:30 am tomorrow morning."

Tomorrow arrived. I cried myself to sleep the night before so my eyes stung a bit.

Dragging myself out of bed and got dressed. In a black t-shirt, black jeans, black socks, and red vans. I picked up my extremely heavy backpack but let go of it almost immediately.

I was going to a new school. Why should I bring stuff that I didn't need?

Emptying my backpack, I sorted through everything. I put a new spiral notebook, a new composition notebook, some pencils and my sketch book back in.

I brushed my hair, went downstairs, ate a bowl of cereal, took my medication, went back upstairs, and stood in my room.

On my nightstand was my phone, mp3, wallet, and keychain. The phone goes in my front left pocket. Mp3 goes in the front right pocket with my headphones in through my shirt. Wallet goes in back right pocket. Keys go in the back left pocket with the lanyard hanging down.