The cop who zip-time cuffed me in the ambulance drug me to my room and I met my 'cellmate.' Her name was Ashley. Purple pixie cut, bad ass jacket, all black clothing. She is one of the hottest chicks I've ever seen.
Ashley was forced to leave the room on count of the nurse walking in with the brown clipboard and papers I needed to sign, go over, and all that other bullshit. I had to show her all of my scars. All the pain buried under leg warmers in July and long sleeve shirts in June. She marked up the paper figure on the paper with a fine tip Sharpie. Under the forearm, on the upper thigh, the ankles, and the hips. So you could even wear short shorts and not get caught with the lines of pain all over.
"Why did you do this?" she asked. Her name tag said Cassie so I answered, "Why do people kill other people?" She just looked at me and then asked, "How are you feeling Jennifer?" "It's Jenny." "Well Jenny, how are you feeling?" "I'm pissed off, Cas. Can I call you Cas?" "Of course you can. Why are you 'pissed off?'" "Because I'm not crazy, I'm not dangerous, and I'm not delusional. So why am I here?" I start to get angry at the question. "Because you are hurting. You are hurting so much that you take it out on your skin. You need help." I do need help don't I?
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I Just Wanna Die Sometimes
Teen FictionSo one day in a far off land, no. This isn't a cool fairy tale romance or some action movie where the main character saves the world. No bippity-boppity-boos for me. No transforming cars for me. All of our lives have a script, so what's yours? If yo...
