Jenalyn: From the Inside (#3) [Complete]

Chapter 1: Hayden

Sunday, 11:04 A.M. EST

I don't understand why this place can pump me full of drugs while I’m pregnant- but I do it myself, and I'm suddenly labeled as a danger to myself, and others.

I woke up in the hospital after Rob had taken me to that motel in Pennsylvania. I was expecting Dane to have woken me up, but low and behold- the entire Gold clan showed up angry, panicking, and so disappointed as they carried a very fucked up Jenalyn from the motel room. A fucked up, and still pregnant Jenalyn.

It only went downhill from there.

I was admitted to the hospital, scolded, medicated, and shipped off to some boujee mental hospital slash rehab center to sit here and think about my actions for a couple of weeks.

Like this's going to do me any good.

The only good thing that came out of all of this- and I can't even really say good, considering the fact that I suck as a human, is that this baby somehow survived all of it... she's a miracle.

"Do you think you're ready to integrate yourself with the rest of your ward, Hayden?" The same nurse that'd been assigned to me since I got here four days ago asks. Her voice is soft, but I can tell she's beyond fed up with her job as a whole.

I don't blame her; I'm sure babysitting a bunch of psychopaths all day, and shoving horse tranquilizers into their ass if they even so much as twitch could get pretty monotonous after while.

"Not really..." I respond honestly, turning over onto my side to face the wall and away from her with a sigh.

If I wanted to leave this God-forsaken room, I'd have done it by now. I'm never going to be ready for that. Why would I want to put myself in the middle of a group of people and have to explain, as Hayden mind you, that I almost killed my baby because of drugs?

It's bad enough I had to do it with the Golds... and Tyler.

The thought of him pains my chest. My head is immediately filled with images of his face at the hospital when he'd found out what happened. When he found out what I did...

He was so hurt. Hurt and disappointed, just like everyone else. He didn't say anything, he just stared at me in disbelief before shaking his head painfully, and walking out into the hallway to join the Gold's gossip.

It's been four days since...

"It's a part of the program, hon- you've had a three day grace period, but now it's time to get you out there with the others," the nurse offers after a few moments. "Plus, the doctor will be in today. Do you think she'll want to hear that you've isolated yourself socially? C'mon, I know you don't want to be here any longer than you’ve got to..."

I roll my eyes, but it goes unnoticed by her considering I'm facing the wall. I turn back around on my side to face the young, tired looking woman with my brows flat and unimpressed.

"I'm sure Doctor Quack could understand why I don't feel like facing those people." I say matter of factly, more attitude than I even thought I could have right now dripping from my words. "I didn't just pick up a needle and get caught by Mommy Dearest, alright? There's a lot that goes into my story, and I'm just not ready to share that!"

The nurse, who'd previously been seated on the edge of the bed across from mine, stands to her feet in an instant- a look of both offense and anger plastered across her face. She crosses her arms over her chest and approaches where I lay on my bed.

"You think you're the only one going through shit?!" she asks, very out of character for who'd she'd been these last four days. "There's a little girl out there, eight years old, who was admitted for trying to commit suicide. She's eight! And another girl, thirteen or fourteen maybe, barely even has teeth anymore because she's been throwing up everything she eats for the past 4 years! Shit, I'm two minutes from carrying myself up to the adult ward and checking myself in for insanity because my house spontaneously went up in flames two nights ago- and I'm being told it's my fault when I know for a fact that it wasn't! Do you know what we've all been doing, Hayden? What we gotta do to keep going. You think an eight year old wants to sit around a looney bin all day with a bunch of moody teens? You think a bulimic wants to eat an over calorized meal and not go vomit after in fear of getting fat? You think I want to be sitting here, at work, when I have to go sift through ash to find my belongings after?! No, but we do it. And you need to get off your ass and do something too!"

I can't even help my brows from furrowing together in shock. My mouth falls slightly agape as I go to respond, but can't even find my words as I finish processing her entire rant.

The nurse, trying to calm her quickend breathing, wipes her arms across her forehead before letting out a small sigh and filling the silence.

"Look. The others just started group session, and art therapy follows, so... just throw yourself in, and go through the motions, okay?" she says, her tone back to being both tired and over it. "It'll shorten your stay, if anything, okay?"

I know I don't really have a choice, so I roll my eyes and rip the blanket from my body with a huff.

Guess I got to do what I gotta do to keep going... even if I don't know where the destination is.