Beyond my Beating Heart

Chapter fourteen: wake up call

^^^
Picture of Sydney on top ;)

*WARNING*
TOPICS OF SUICIDE AND SELF HARM ARE EXPRESSED IN THIS CHAPTER.

Play "Heavy" by Linkin Park and Kiiara [Nicky Romero remix] for this chapter.

- - -

I wake up to beeping noises and muffled talking. I feel a familiar pain in my head, and it is not pleasant. The awful stench of sterilized metal and unwashed sheets takes over my senses until I realize how parched and dehydrated I am.

I slowly sit up in an attempt to find water, my back aching a bit as my spine moves. Glancing around the room, I look down at myself to see my arm wrapped in a thick layer of gauze. My left leg is in a cast and the right has a bandage around it, a patch of dark red liquid showing through the white cloth, and I can feel a large bruise on my other arm from where I fell off of the bench.

Of course in that moment, every memory of last night floods back into my mind, and my breathing quickens, all the horrific sights and feels running back into my mind. Those thoughts alone make me choke up with tears.

What I do not remember is what happened after Jett picked me up in his car to drive me somewhere. It must have been to here, the hospital, I thought.

After what seems like hours of sitting in this uncomfortable bed, a stranger comes into my room. I turn my head to face them and see a warm smile appear on the woman's face.

"Juniper?" She asks softly, sounding overly cautious.

"Yes?" I manage to croak out before breaking into a coughing fit, and she hands me a cup of lukewarm water, and I guzzle it down greedily.

"I'm Jennifer, your nurse, Dr. Williams sent me to fetch you."

I send a look of confusion her way before replying, "Fetch me for what, exactly?"

"Group, they want you to start fairly early so that you can get out of here in a timely manner."

"Group, as in, group therapy?" I ask, already dreading the answer.

"Exactly!" Jennifer chirps, "I'll get your wheelchair for you!"

"Is that really necessary?" I ask with a sigh.

"Sweetie, you broke your ankle and your other leg is scratched up so bad you can almost see the bone, you are not able to walk." She replies sternly, but not mean.

I roll my eyes and comply, sitting myself down in the chair as she wheels me out of the room, not uttering another word, but that is just how I like it, no talking, no interaction, no nothing, because it gives me time to think and observe my surroundings.

I look to my left and see a young man, tapping his foot nervously on the tile floors. A shiny new looking wedding band curls around his left ring finger, standing proudly, and I immediately look away, making sure not to stare, as that would be horribly impolite.

I get into the room and see the stares of the strangers in there, my body immediately tenses up and I hold my breath, but I don't fight back, deep down I know it will help, despite what I tell myself sometimes.

I take my seat in a slightly uncomfortable plastic chair, and the psychologist, who I presume is Dr. Williams, looks up at me with a firm smile.

"Let me start by saying, I know none of you want to be here." He says.

Nearly everyone lets out a laugh that I can almost guarantee is fake and dry.

- - -

The session lasted for almost two hours and by the time it was over, there were mixed emotions floating around in the room. There were tears, smiles, and frowns, all different emotions, but I am determined to get out of here.