Mentally Broken: A Lost Voice

Therapy

"I'm 13, I like music, and writing. They are like an outlet for me." I say as my heart pounds in my chest and my legs bounce up and down and my hands shake like leaves in the wind. "Okay Cassy, how does music and writing make you feel?" The lady across the table sitting in a large black leather chair asks me. "It makes me feel calm, I can just plug in my earbuds and forget everything, and write things i feel and not have to worry about a response or someone else's experiences." I say as I pull my sleeves down father as if I am trying to cover up my whole body. I just want to go home. "And why do you chose to listen to music and write instead of going for a run, or going for a hike?" She asks. I keep staring at the edge of her desk, not making eye contact with her. "Because I don't want to." "Why do you not want to?" she asks as if its a rhetorical question. why does she care anyway. It doesn't matter to her, she is just supposed to sit there and listen to me spill some sappy story out and write it down and give me medication. "I DON'T KNOW!" I snap. I shake worse, its defiantly visible. I get a sickening feeling in my stomach that tells me i shouldn't have done that. "Okay, Take a deep breath, try to calm down. I know your stressed and this is all quite overwhelming" she tells me but each word that rolls off her lips the more i want to punch her in the lips. She talks as if she knows what I'm going through. I don't want to listen i just want to go home. But i take a deep breath anyway. I inhale slowly feeling the chemical smelling air fill my lungs, I exhale. "What are you feeling now?" she asks, I clench  my fist to keep the anger in an not snap again. "Anger." I say as I make eye contact with her through my hair that is covering half my face. "Why is that?", "because your making me mad." , "I'm sorry, I'm just trying to understand and help you.", "Yeah, Mom told me that one to and look where I ended up." 

I walk down the white tile flooring back to my room, escorted by Jonathan, one of the hospital nurses. I thought all nurses were girls but I guess not. "Here we are." Jonathan says in a cheerful voice, as always. I look at the numbers on the wall beside the door way. Room 273, I see 27 and think of the song 27 by machine gun kelly, I always liked that song. I look up at Jonathan and he looks at me and gives me a warm smile. I fake a smile back and open the door to my room. I'm in a room by myself because of my thoughts. When I socialize with other patients here, Jonathan or another nurse has to be with me. "Why do you look so down Cassy?" Jonathan asks me. There is something about Jonathan that makes me trust him. I look up at him and fake a smile, "Im okay," I tell him, but he just gives me that look that says he knows i'm not. He sits down on the end of my bed and pats his hand on the bed beside him. I sit down beside him. "You listen to music?" he asks me. Not what I expected him to ask, I was expecting some sappy story or some advice or to tell me he is there for me. "Yeah." I say looking down at my hands shaking in my lap. He looks at them too. "What do you like to listen to?" He asks as I feel him looking at me, trying to get me to look at him. "Anything besides latino." I say still looking at my hands shaking. "You ever heard of Machine Gun Kelly?" he asks me and I pick my head up and look him in the eyes with joy that he knows who he is, "Yes, I love him!", "Awesome I do too!" he says to me in a cheerful voice. Time flies by before i knew it was 5:43p.m., "It's almost curfew, you should get some sleep." Jonathan flashes me a smile as he stands up. "I don't want to sleep now" I laugh a little and look up at him, "We can talk more tomorrow after your Therapy" he smiles and closes the door, I fall back onto my bed smiling, looking at the plane white ceiling. I think back to the song reference Jonathan made and laugh.