Just saw A new girl.
Maybe she's as crazy as me, or the rest of us.
She's short, she has long, flowing dirty blonde hair. She doesn't seem like a fuck-up like the rest of us in here, she seems like a little preppy-perfect-popular girl you would expect to be cheering for her perfect jock boyfriend on a Friday night, and to be at a raging party on Saturday night.They gave her the pink room, of course. However, the pink room is right across from mine. This area is pretty peaceful and drama-feee most of the time, unless someone forgets to take their meds or even more, they forget to give us our meds(happened quite a few times sadly.) Ha get it, because we're always on meds here. If you don't get it, you've never quite been to a place like this, most of us this is our last hope, for most of us, this was forced.
I lost my mind along time ago, i've been in here for years(or that's what it seems like.)
when you're in a place like this there is no "time."
I won't tell you i've never took meth, or crystal but it wasn't my thing at all. I saw enough people, including my own family, wound up, dropped over the edge, that I guess atleast decided to look out for myself on that one.I always preferred creeping into a dark, giant hole where no bad feelings could go. where I could escape reality. where I could be my old, happy self once again. The green, tasty weed couldn't supply my needs for as long as I wanted it to however, it couldn't drag me low enough into the depths of hell, where I wanted to be. I mostly found whatever I could in my cabinets, searching frantically and hopelessly every single waking day and night. Most of the time however, I took a ride on the H train, a hot shot clear of hell.
I wasn't worried about becoming hooked, I wasn't dependent on them. I knew plenty of heroin addicts sadly, most of them I grew up with in the same house. I didn't do it enough for one, anyway I decided i'd be graveyard rot before my 16th birthday. It hasn't quite happened yet, but i'm still determined. Once i'm out of here however, maybe i'll have a better shot at accomplishing those dreams, but for now i'm stuck in this shitty, puke filled mental hospital labeled as a "crazy."
YOU ARE READING
Addiction.
Teen FictionGrab the razor, cut deeper. grab tissues, cry more. grab pills, get higher. take the gun, pull the trigger. Maybe we're all crazy here.