Echo Creek Mental Institution

Chapter 3: Liar Liar

"What!?" I shout at him as I walk closer. "How dare you- the nerve- what the fu-"
"I'm not stupid." Marco growls as he swatted away at a bug that isn't there. "You lied, it's obvious."
"Oh yeah? About what?" I scoff.
"About why you're here." He sneers
My heart jolts a little and drops to my stomach. I hold my scowl, though, and cross my arms, "Oh yeah. If I lied, which I'm not admitting that I did, how could you tell?"
"Jackson told me." He smirks.
"Whose Jackson?" I sneer.
"Your neighbor."
Realization hit me right then. I forgot Marco was, to put it lightly, totally insane. He saw people and monsters and talked to his hash-browns and was constantly swatting away imaginary flies. I didn't have a neighbor named Jackson, unlike most people my age I new my neighbors quite well. There was a bunch around me, but no one named Jackson. The closest were the people two houses to the left of my named Ursula and Jack Johnson. His full name definitely Jack, I've asked. They both had deep brown eyes. Boring, but they were so swirly and mysterious. They were an old married couple, their three kids had moved out years ago, although their son Kevin was my backyard neighbor. Weird. Anyways, they were adventurous people but Ursula was bed ridden, going outside might even kill her. Jack still enjoyed life and was healthy as ever. So, Ursula insisted he travel the world without her. And that he did. The best part of this was wherever Jack would go, he would bring home a dog. Not like a dog from the place, but a dog named after the place. He got a Boston Terrier for Massachusetts, a mini Aussi for Australia, mini Yorki for the east coast, even an English Bulldog for Europe. It was creative and when Jack was traveling, Ursula had the dogs to keep her company. And her son, I guess.
"I don't have a neighbor named Jackson," I conclude and begin to leave. "Goodbye, Marco."
"Jackson doesn't lie."
"I didn't lie about why I'm here."
"But you don't have any problems." He calls after me. "They say you are totally healthy, that you are just doing this for attention."
"Who?" I yell back. "Who's been saying all that shit?"
"A few monsters have been snickering about it, but Jackson, man, Jackson knows what's up with you."
"And what's that?"
"You have a perfect life. People would kill for your life. Yet you have the audacity to come here. You don't deserve any of this. You deserved to sit at home and grow up without a worry. You are fine, Estella Butterfly. You. Are. Fine."
I sneer. "Goodbye, Marco." And continue to walk away. He didn't fallow, which I'm glad about.
Because I started to cry.
I was always a big cry baby, but right now anyone would cry. Because it was the worst part of an argument; admitting when you are wrong. Which I was, Marco was right. I hear stories about kids who were abused by their parents or have a mental disorder or have absolutely no friends. I don't. My parents care and are very good at being parents. They aren't divorced, rarely fight and I'm an only child. We are also pretty well off, I never go to bed hungry. I don't have any mental disorder, not that I've been to a psychologist recently or anything. But I don't, I'm to spazzy to have anything serious. And my friends, I have friends. No best friends, but people who are decent and sit with me at lunch.
I sit in a crook in the hallway and pull my knees to my chest. That was it, I don't deserve to be here. I don't deserve to die spectacularly either. I don't deserve to die at all, because that would be wasting my perfect life. And then all those people who deserve to kill themselves will talk about how Estella Butterfly turned their real plight into a joke. That's all I am, a fucking bad joke.
"Star?" A voice crashes through the one in my head.
I reach my hands to my eyes and viscously rub the tears away. "Yeah?" The black spots clear in my eyes to reveal a familiar face. "Tom!?"
"Hey." He flashes a wide set smile. The patters fade to reveal he is still as pasty and emo as I left him. He wore a new black shirt that was ripped and black jeans while his hair remains the same red-pink spiky mess it has been before. His boots, belt, and chocker were all studded, along with his ears.
"Hey." I stand up and regret my outfit. Baggy dresses don't look well and you're supposed to look good in front of your ex.
"Uh..." He looks at me like I'm not real, clearly wondering why I'm here and won't ask.
"So it's nice seeing you... Here." I cough. "So how long have you been here?"
"I'm not-" he shyly smirks with a small shake of his head. "I was in here, anger issues."
"Ah." The reason for our break up.
"Yeah but that was a few months ago. I'm better so I uh volunteer here. Read to the kids wards and help out Raven in the teen's when I can."
"Raven?"
"Arts and crafts lady."
"Ah."
"So yeah." He looks at me again, waiting for me to tell him why I'm here.
"I'm just here because I did something stupid." I explain vaguely. "Did something that was just so stupid and lame. Something I thought I was which I'm just really not."
"Not what?" His eyes big out a bit after the question, probably felt bad for asking it.
I take a deep breath. "I tried to kills myself, okay, Tom? But I'm not suicidal."
He squats down to my height. "Sounds suicidal."
"I have no reason to be suicidal so I'm just being a dramatic fuck, there's a difference."
He nods like he's understanding not I know he's not. No one ever can.
"I just... Don't understand it. Anything really. I really am stupid."
"Well you're not but like... Uh... Suicide is forever. And there are probably a lot of people who would miss you. So like... It's good that you're here instead of dead because I know I'd miss you. So if you uh feel this way then you should be here. You probably have a good reason, ya know? Any reason is a good reason. All feelings are valid. Yah?"
"Yeah." I smile and nod politely at his generic speech he was probably trained to give. Nice to try but suicide isn't my problem anymore. Its existing. I don't deserve to exist. But I don't deserve to kill myself either. It's what you would call a dilemma.
"Well." Tom slaps my knees in the awkwardness. "It was nice seeing you. Hope you feel... Uh... Better and uh I think you have shower time now?"
In the morning? Really? Random. "Yeah. Cya around."
A nod is all I get and he leaves. I gloom a little but Tom coming over had reset my emotions. My brain couldn't become sad again so I get up and go to the showers.

YEAH THIS CHAPTER WAS VERY RANTY

SHOULD THIS BE ITS OWN BOOK? CAUSE IM PROBABLY GONNA DO THAT.

SOOOOO

YEAHHHHHH

LOOOOVE YOU ALLLL

WOOOOOLFIE