Mum, Dad and Emily all sit around the bed, watching as I lift the spoon to my mouth. I don't want this soup – it smells awful and I'd rather starve myself – but I know I have to eat it. I refused to eat for the first few days I was here, but now I've kind of realised I should eat. If my plan of not dying is going to work, I have to eat.
The first few mouthfuls take me a while to eat, and I end up spluttering several over myself, but eventually I get there. I feel like a baby, with everyone watching on hopefully as I have each mouthful. But I know it reassures them that their daughter, or sister, can eat. But it's so much more than me just being 'difficult', they don't understand there's a battle in my mind, the negatives outweighing the positives almost every single time. Eating soup is almost all my brain can cope with right now. But they just can't understand that.
"Well done." Emily says quietly, smiling a little at me.
"Uh... thanks?" I reply slowly, not really sure how to respond. I know it's good I'm eating again, but verbal praise? I'm 16 in two weeks, for goodness' sake, I'm not a baby.
A therapist barges in suddenly, taking at least me by surprise. They never come in here. They stay in their building. That way I try to leave everything I say to the therapists there, so I can try to forget about it when I'm here.
"Riley?" The woman says, as Mum takes the bowl and spoon out of my hands. "I need to talk to your parents, I assume this is your mother and father?" she says, gesturing at Mum and Dad.
"Yeah, go ahead." I reply, still unsure as to why she isn't in her building. It makes me feel like something's wrong, but I honestly don't know.
"I think it's good news." Emily mutters, taking my hand somewhat overzealously. I frown, taking my hand back.
"I doubt it, they never come in here." I reply, picking nervously at the bandage on my left arm.
"Hey, don't do that." Emily says, reprimanding me.
"I can do what I want." I say, but drop both my arms to my sides.
"I just wanted to say, I'm proud of you." she says, smiling.
"For what? Getting in this place?"
"No," Emily rolls her eyes. "For trying to help yourself out of it."
"Well do you think I want to b-" I stop as Mum and Dad wander back over.
"The therapist says you'll be allowed home in a couple of days, unless things suddenly deteriorate. You'll be coming back for more therapy, but they reckon you'll be stable enough to end long-term residence here."
Emily looks at me happily.
"Did you hear that?"
"Yes, I did." I reply, rolling my eyes. "So that shows I'm not deaf. And just because I've done some stupid things, it doesn't mean I'm some kind of vegetable either." I mutter as I get up from the bed.
Emily rises too, heading towards the door with Mum and Dad.
"We need to get back to work, but we'll be back again later." Dad says. Oh, what a surprise. Work comes first. Again.
"Em, aren't you missing school right now?" I ask, realising she shouldn't even be here.
"Free period." Emily replies, shrugging a little. I nod, sighing to myself as they all walk out of the door.
"Bye then." I mutter, picking up the book on the bedside table, even though I've already finished it three times now.
*********************
YOU ARE READING
I Can't Cope (COMPLETED)
Fanfiction'Why does everything keep reminding me of the past? I don't want a repeat and I certainly don't want to be reminded. It hurts too much. One more thing and I might just be pushed over the edge...' Everything always looks fine from the outside. Riley...
