Insecure (Completed)

18

Devonte

"My daughter is perfectly fine," Mrs. Daniels, Bre's mother stated. "The girl is simply melodramatic. She wants attention, that is all."

I glowered at her, restraining myself from reaching across the room and slapping her uppity ass face. Strategically, I was standing as far away from her as I possible could, to make it easy to keep my hands off of her. I never in my life hit a woman, but Mrs. Daniels always made me come close.

"She ain't fine. Bitch, are you stupid? She's depressed and suicidal that's not fine. She. Needs. Help." I said this all through clenched teeth.

"Devonte! How dare you speak to me like this? I never expected this from you, never," Mrs. Daniels said, appalled.

"AND I NEVER EXPECTED TO WALK INTO A BATHROOM AND SEE YOUR DAUGHTER HALF DEAD!" I yelled. "THIS IS THE SECOND FUCKING TIME THAT SHE DID SOME SHIT LIKE THIS, STOP PLAYING LIKE THIS IS A JOKE THIS IS REAL LIFE GOTDAMN!"

This was so out of character, I never yelled. My chest heaved and I was so close to spazzing on Bre's dumbass mother. Her father hadn't even bothered to show up to the hospital. They didn't care. I was tired of being the only one that did.

"Ma?" We both swiveled our heads in the direction of the hospital bed Bre now resided in, her wrists cleanly bandaged. She was hooked up to all kinds of machines, but she was alive and that's what counted.

"Bre, baby. I'm here." Mrs. Daniels glided to her daughter's side, taking up one of her hands.

It made me sick to watch her, knowing that if something didn't change, we would be doing this same dance again.

"Where's Tae?" Her eyes roved the room, looking for me.

"I'm here." I came over to the bed and she reached for me.

"I'm sorry Tae. I'm sorry, I know I promised I would stay, but I couldn't do this anymore. I wanted to see my baby," she started to cry.

"Bre, stop these theatrics! The baby is gone, and you're here." Her mother said.

"Mrs. Daniels? Miss Daniels?" The doctor was back. Her tag read Dr. Lopez. She looked Latina or something, and had soft, compassionate eyes. "We want Bre to stay here overnight for observation so we can run a few tests, but we are out of the woods." She checked some of the machines efficiently. "You're going to be okay, and I don't want to see you back here again," she said to Bre, sternly. "Can I speak to you outside, Mrs. Daniels?"

Bre's mother nodded and followed the doctor out. Even though she hadn't asked me, I went too.

"Your daughter had a narrow escape, Mrs. Daniels. Those cuts were very deep. If this young man hadn't been there to call 9-1-1..." she trailed off. "What I'm saying is, you've been blessed. She's going to be okay, but I do recommend some type of therapy or counseling. There are also some medications I can prescribe for her depression."

"My daughter isn't depressed," Mrs. Daniels scoffed.

"Her charts would suggest otherwise."

"Your charts can't tell me anything about my damn daughter when it comes to her mental health. I'm done with this conversation." With that, Mrs. Daniels stormed back into the hospital room.

"Your daughter is a legal adult, so it's not up to you anymore," Dr. Lopez called after her. "I will be prescribing her anti-depressants." She sighed, and shook her head.

"Dr. Lopez?" My voice was quiet.

"Yes?"

"Do you have any suggestions for where she can get the counseling she needs?"

"Well there are different options. Of course, she would have to see which programs take her insurance but-"

"What about...free options? Even though she's legal, she's still on her parents insurance and I know they don't want her to do this."

She shook her head again. "I can't understand why. But yes, there are two excellent free counseling programs I know of, one specifically for depression associated with miscarriages. But it's very intense, they actually provide housing and she would have to actually live there."

"But it's not like, a mental hospital or no shit?" I rubbed my chin.

"No, it's not an institution. All the girls who live there are dealing with the same thing. There are no restraints or locks to keep people in. And they are allowed visitors, we just prefer they complete the program before leaving or going out. For their own safely. They do get to leave the facility, but under supervision. I'll go get some pamphlets." She hurried away.

Going back into the hospital room, I saw Bre was no longer crying. Her mom was in the corner, whispering on her phone.

"Bre, I can't do this anymore. I never want to feel what I felt when I saw you in that tub. You need help and we gonna get it for you. You grown now, and you need to make a decision for yourself. Dr. Lopez said she know a program for girls going through similar shit as you. I want you to go." I let out a breath after my mini speech, waiting for her to start promising that she would never try again and her to say she didn't need a program.

But she surprised me. "I want to move past this. I want to live. I want to stop always needing you to save me. I'm gonna do whatever it takes. I'll do the program."

I smiled, the first real smile I smiled in a long time.