You Could Never

"I'm sorry ma'm, but we have no cure to help her."

I heard from outside the door. My heart sank. I wanted to take the shot that was sitting on the table and inject myself with it (because the nurse left that was bringing it to a patient), but unfortunatly, Jamie was sitting right next to me, so no luck of that happening.

"But doctor, she could kill herself." My mom tried.

"I am well aware of that ma'm." The doctor replied.

"What are we to do about this situation?" My mom asked.

"You already have Jamie, who is helping her along the way." The doctor replied, well aware of the fact that Jamie was the person who made sure I never tried to kill myself. "Why don't we have her come in the room and talk to me about her feelings about all of this." The doctor said before my mom opened the door and invited me inside. "Hello, Dakota." The doctor said as I walked in.

"Hello." I replied, giving him my best fake smile.

"Have a seat." He said while he motioned me to sit down on the empty seat.

"Thank you." I murmured as I sat down cautiously.

"How do you feel right now?" He asked as if I was some idiot who he thought was uneducated. As if I was a child.

"I'm fifteen." I informed him.

"Yes, ...I know that." He replied nodding his head n agreement to what he said.

"Then why are you talking to me like I'm a kid. Like I'm only four?" I asked testing him.

"Uh, well, um..." He stuttered, clearly having no clue as to what to say.

"Why?" I asked again, shedding a couple of tears.

"Uh..." He continued.

"Uh is not an answer!" I yelled before getting the chance to run out of the room and into the hallway where I was before. I looked around to try and find the table with all of the shots on it, but it wasn't where it was before. Instead it was on the other side of the hallway, so I ran over to the table, picked up one of the shots and jabbed it into my arm. The pain was perfect, and it only got worse when Jamie came over to try and get me away from it. To try and get it out of my hands. She finds herself doing that a lot. Taking dangerous things away from me. We were kicked out of the hospital right after they treated me so I wouldn't get any disease and die. I wanted to die though. More than anything.

.....................................................................

"Hey" I murmured as I hugged Jonathan.

"How was the doctors office?" He asked, hugging me back.

"Horrible." I replied, releasing him from the hug.

"Why?" He asked, placing his hands on my shoulder.

"The doctor treated me like a kid. Like I was four." I replied, getting angry at the fact all over again.

"Ugh." He said as he dragged me closer for another hug.

"What?" I asked as I accepted the hug.

"Nothing, but the fact you get angry over the silliest little things."

"That was not a silly little thing." I stated, pushing him away once more.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." He said, grabbing my hand.

"It sounded like you meant it like that." I replied, moving my hand away.

"I'm sorry." He tried.

"Sorry isn't good enough Johnathan! You shouldn't have even said it in the first place!" I yelled. Johnathan fell silent. Then I went and sat over on the swing in the backyard. He slowly came after me and soon enough he sat next to me on the swing.

"I didn't mean to say something to offend you like that." He whispered.

"But that just shows how you think of me." I replied softly standing my ground. 

Johnathan fell silent again. "I need help Johnathan. Not this." I whimpered

I stood up and walked away from him. I walked through the house up to my room and pulled out my journal. Written in it was this:

Today, (wow... today). Such a long day it's been. But come to

think of it they've always been long days. 

I wish I wasn't born with this horrible disease. 

I'm sure someone out there knows what it is

like to be suicidal. 

But maybe few know what it's like not to want to be

suicidal but have to be... like me. 

People who are suicidal have that choice of whether or 

not to commit to such a terrible thing. They have a choice to be suicidal. I (

 as you may have guessed) don't get a choice.

 I have to be this person, this suicidal person, because that's the way I was

supposed to be. I'm sure you can understand.

- Dakota

Then I closed the book, changed into my pj's, brushed my teeth and, finally, crawled into bed. 

The day was done for me.