LUNATIC

Chapter 1

A knife can cause fear, give you power or even bring you some kind of relief, as I pressed it against the blue veins in my pulse, - drawing it all the way down, looking at how the beautiful red colour paints my forearm all the way down, the blood blending with the water in the bathtub, surrounding my naked body - I feel nothing but relief. I smile and my last thought before I close my eyes is about how hard it is to open a vein in your arm with an already opened vein in the arm you use to do it, and that death is more beautiful than I had imagined it. I guess death is a perfect beginning for a story, even a failed one.

My mother came home earlier from work and found me, or at least that's what she tells to someone that is trying to give me oxygen, I think about fighting but I can't move, how rude of this person to try to prevent me from accomplishing something in my life, I think an unsuccessful death says a lot about the kind of person I am and the life I've been living.

I passed out again and wake up at the hospital, this time. My mother is by my side and I feel a tear run down my face, why am I alive? Where did my plan go wrong? My head hurts and when I look down I see shackles keeping me tied to the bed... my mouth feels dry and I think about waking her up but I get lost looking around, the hospital walls are so white it feels cold even though I am warm. Before I can wake her up she does it by herself.

"Why did you do that?" Tears in her eyes, a pain that quickly changes to anger. She slaps me really hard, like she never done before, a tear leaves my eye due to the pain. "Charlie found you, you know? How could you do that to us? To him? He's going to be traumatized for the rest of his life... You're staying here until you're better, I'll help with the expenses but I don't want to see you ever again, and don't even think about seeing him either."

She leaves and I try to block my emotions, vainly. I cry endlessly and feel stupid for not even being capable of killing myself, wondering if the happiness I felt watching the blood run out of my body would be the last I could feel being obligated to be alive... if I couldn't see a future before, I certainly couldn't see one now. Especially after having hurt someone I swore to take care of. I imagine myself in that bathtub again and the four years old child finding me and screaming my name to wake me up, making fun of how red the water was, putting one hand in it, and then starting to scream in fear when I don't open my eyes, my mother coming in and trying to get between my lifeless body and her son... I screamed and tried to get away, fighting my incarceration, I deserved to die for such a thing and as soon as I could I would end it, my mind was spinning wildly, playing the scene over and over, as I screamed closing my eyes and shaking my head, beating it against the bed as if I could shake off the image created by my imagination. Someone comes in the room, I feel a poke on my neck and I lose it again.

They put me on meds, because I scream each time I wake up, begging them to kill me and getting very upset, my imagination playing the scene on repeat, my personal hell on earth is my mind and it won't stop now that it has something to throw on my face, something I feel guilty about. 

(three weeks later)

Life is a funny thing, and I don't mean funny as in humorous but as in peculiar, odd - funny is a funny word if you think about how it has two meanings as different as that, I use it as the second more than the first and sometimes it leads to misunderstandings, like to this exact moment. Looking into this pair of caramel eyes, I cross my legs and arms, in a defensive way that is written as such in a notebook with pink roses on its cover.

"I didn't mean to be funny, I intend for you to take me entirely serious or these sessions won't work." The voice comes to me as an interesting melody, the kind that you are yet to decide if you hate or love.

"I meant peculiar Doctor and not comical, I don't think I'll be laughing between these four walls."

"You are allowed to, at the proper moments. Reading your file I can see that you didn't come here on your own."