Mental Hospitals

0.2

0.2

As I sit on the bus, I realize something. Everyday, we pass the same bus stop that is very close to the High School and the same guy walks the math everyday. He looks like he is about 17 years old. He was dark, dark brown hair, almost to the point to where it looks black, he is wearing black skinny jeans that are rolled up at the bottom with black on white vans, along with a Ramones t'shirt. I have to admit, he was very attractive.

I recognize him, he goes to my school and he is in my grade. So were both seniors. Although i recognize him, I don't know his name and I doubt he knows mine. I mean, nobody cares about me, and nobody knows me.

I still had tears streaming down my face as I look out the window as he walks on the side walk. He just happens to look right up at my window and he just stares at me with a frown on his face.

I know what he's thinking 'Jesus christ, is that a fucking gremlin?'. That's what I think every time I look in a mirror.

As we sat at the bus stop, he looked at me and mouthed the words 'what's wrong?'.

I just shrugged and looked away as the bus turned the corner, but he continued to stare at me as the bus drove away.
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2 weeks later....

I have been seeing that same boy at that same bus stop everyday and he like to write me little messages with chalk on the sidewalk such as 'Your Cute' 'What happened?' 'Are You Okay'. but we still don't know each others names and we still don't talk to each other at school, but he is like my best friend now and he has helped me a lot. He made me feel like I have an actual friend, but I fear the day that we actually meet, and he sees what I'm really like.

Will he leave or will he still be my best friend?

When the bus dropped my off at home, I realized, I didn't want to be alone because I knew what would happen if I was alone and I have been trying to stop, but it won't work. I'm all alone now, in this house. I made Michael move out because I didn't want anyones help. He was only making things worst although all he was doing was trying to help.

I went up to the bathroom and closed the door, locking it in the process just in case anyone, Michael, wanted to make a visit.

I found my blades hiding behind the toilet in a little baggie.

One-for being such an ugly person.

Two-for being such a burden.

Three- for being hated in the world.

Four- for it being my fault that my parents are dead.

The list could go on and on and on, but I decided to stop and do something else that got my mind off of the world.

I took the bandages out from under the sink and cleaned up my arm. I then walked downstairs and walked to the cabinet that was just above the microwave. Bingo.

I took the first bottle I saw and read the label. Straight vodka, I could work with that.

I then went upstairs and changed into a baggy t-shirt and into a pair of sweatpants.

I brought the bottle of vodka to the couch and just laid down on the couch. I don't really remember what happened next because I got lost in my though but by the time my phone started vibrating from the coffee table, the full bottle of vodka was gone.

The name that popped on my phone just happen to be my brother, the one and only, Michael Clifford. Fuck my life.

"What?" I slurred, barely able to understand what I'm saying.

"Oh god no Emma, what did I tell you about drinking? It's not going to solve anything." He said sternly.

"Okay, dad." I laugh. "What's your point, I'm not gonna stop. Theres a whole cabinet up there full of treats, thats the only thing in this world that is here for me." I just keep laughing and laughing.

"Em, what happened?" He sighed

"Nothing you should worry about, it's not like anyone cares anyway. Actually why even stay here? Theres nothing here for me. If I die, I can be reunited with the only people that actually care about me!" I was now frustrated with my self for not thinking about this earlier.

"No, no, no ,no. I'm calling my friend Calum and he's going to come over, he is in our grade as well and I am on my way." Okay, slow down, I don't need any help.

"Nah, you don't care, he won't care, so why waste his time. He doesn't care!" I scream into the phone.

"He's on his way and I am too." Michael says before hanging up the phone.

I just start laughing and laughing and laughing. This situation is very funny to me. All these people act like they care, when they actually don't.

I'm over this. I locked the front door and ran up to the bathroom and found my anti-depression pills that I'm suppose to be taking to "help" me. I pour the whole thing into my hand and throw them into my mouth and filled up a glass of water.

I heard someone banging on the door but I don't care at this point. I swallow all of the pills and I feel my throat slowly closing and the world getting brighter, then it was over.

Everything went black.