Mental Hospital ; luke hemmings

1.7 - eммa

I woke up in my bed room at home. I haven't been here in 2 days, I thought I was suppose to still be at the hospital. They said I could be released for another week or so.

Shrugging it off I got out of my bed that I was laying in and walked downstairs to the kitchen. My mother and father were sitting at the dark brown kitchen table that stood in the middle of the room. They were huddled up whispering like they were passing secrets.

They didn't notice my presence until I coughed. That caused them to turn around. When they saw me my mothers far went slightly red, as if she was embarrassed I was standing there.

"Hey Emma, your mother and I need to talk to you". My father sighed, probably expecting my mother to say it.

"Ok..." My voiced dragged, confused on what they needed. If they needed to talk to me, why didn't they get me earlier. Besides, what am I doing back home?

"So your mother and I have been talking after we heard what happened last night, and we've decided to make some arrangements. Before you get mad, hear us out." My father begged, raising his hands signaling me to listen first. I just nodded my head, too confused to speak.

"We don't think what your going through is um, fixable." My mother finally spoke up. "And if it is, seeing Mr. Morrison is not going to help. And if a professional can't do it neither can we."

"What are you trying to say? Are you going to kill me or something." My arched eyebrows leaned into a furrow as I listened to them talk.

"Sweetie look. All our lives it has been great. You, your sister, and your brother have been happy kids without any problems. Now that your depressed and all, Griffin and Emily are too. They fight all the time and are disrespectful to your father and me." She took a breath. I don't understand what was happening. Are they kicking me out? I didn't say anything because I wanted them to get to the point faster.

"So after researching, we found a place called Johnson's Mental Hospitals and we think it would -" I cut my mother off, my eyes burning with anger.

"No! No! I will not allow you to send me to an asylum! I am not fucking crazy. I can be cured and I'm not even depressed. I am just straight out damn sad. And what's even fucking worst than you trying to send me away is you not even knowing why I'm sad. Did you know Michael cheated on me? Do you know he hasn't called or texted me since then? I didn't think so!" I screeched at them. My hair was thrown back forth as I screamed and my face went red and then blue from the lack of oxygen. I probably looked crazy as I - oh shit.
~
All my things were packed into my moms black van. I made sure I had all my band shirts and all 39 pair of black skinny jeans I owned. My mom told me they would probably have uniforms but I didn't care. I also folded up my poster and other souvenirs I wanted to keep.

It was about an hour and a half drive, too far for me to run home if needed. When the automatic doors opened I saw the unexpected. People were sitting in the waiting room. They all seemed around my age. I thought it would be a variety of people, mainly elders dressed in the same ugly pale blue hospital gown.

My mother dragged me to the front desk, along with the rest of my family who I forgot came with. She was right. They really are depressed. Griffin has never worn so much black before. I'm use to the dark greens and reds but black everything it too much for me. Emily's eyes have never been so dark. The once light lime green color is now a dark shade of Billie Joe Armstrong green.

We approached the front desk and the front desk last had dark skin and wide hips but a very pretty face. She smiled at us and asked me for my name and information. I chose not to speak and let my mother take the lead. After she filled out the forms, the lady who I learned was named Mary greeted me. At that time my parents left, a hug from everyone.