I'm Not Okay (I Promise) • Geetrick

57

---Patrick---

God hates me.

I don't know what's happened. I feel... numb... I feel so numb. My legs and hands are numb, and my head is spinning. What's happening? Where am I? I can't remember a thing... I remember... The Christmas party and going with... Gerard to the bridge. I remember talking, and I remember him trying to tease me... I remember boots, but that's all. Boots crunching through the thick snow. Dark shoes on white water. What happened...? I can't... think straight...

I try to open my eyes, but it's like they're sewn shut... I can't... seem to... I'm so weak...

"Patrick?" Dr. Capaldi? "Are you awake?"

I muster out a whine. I'm so numb... Is it normal to feel this weak?

"Hey, I'm gonna give you some more sedative, sorry I thought I got you more. I'll wake you up in a bit..." I hear a squeaky knob turn, but it's so fuzzy, and I can barely focus on it...

And... I'm... drifting again...

***

"Patrick, we need you to wake up, can you wake up for me?" Dr. Capaldi says, his voice calm and I'm still numb, but I can tell it's starting to wear off little by little.

It hurts. Everything kind of hurts. My stomach hurts, my head is pounding, my fingers are barely moving, but I can flick them just softly. Just as soft as the peep of a mouse. I am a mouse, though, aren't I? I remember that thought. I remember thinking myself a mouse. I can't remember where, though. Or when. I can't remember why. I can't remember nearly anything. I just feel so out of place. Different. Weird.

"I need you to open your eyes, can you open your eyes for me?"

N-no... I muster out another whimper, it's so weak... I'm so weak. Dr. Capaldi is asking me to be strong, though. Asking me, "just try, come on I know you can do it..."

So I try. I try so hard to open my eyes. I feel so... disoriented, though. Like I'm not really in my own body. I feel so much weaker than I should. I've felt low and pathetic before, but this is different. This is like how I feel after purging and starving for a week straight, and I'm so dizzy and weak that I can barely pick up a pen. Those are the only days I allow myself to eat because I don't deserve to die, do I?

"Come on, Patrick, I know you can do it. You've done it before, and I know you don't feel so good right now. We just can't risk you falling asleep again... We need to talk to you..."

I can't... please...

***

I wake up again. Why do I keep falling asleep? Am I supposed to?

My eyes open this time, I'm feeling stronger. So much stronger. If it weren't for the goddamn restraints on the bed, I would have probably sat up, too. But I can't. I'm restrained. I'm trapped. This time, though, it isn't as bad. Has Gerard helped with that? Gerard. Gerard... where is he?

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to blink away the blurriness. The ceiling is white. Too white. I remember again that I'm in a hospital and I woke up a while ago. I don't know how long ago. Probably a year ago. Maybe just a few seconds ago.

"Patrick? Are you okay?" Dr. Capaldi asks. No, I'm not okay, I promise. Where the fuck is Gerard? I need to talk to him. I need to know what happened. I need to know if he's okay. I need to know so much... I can't... quite remember...

"I need Gerard. Where is he?" I ask, looking over at him. I'm feeling stronger, but at the same time, a little off, "And can you please take off these restraints? I need to talk to him, please."