What it means to have scars *Rewritten*

Chapter 1 Inevitable

Inevitable is the word I think of when I ponder my current situation, It was inevitable I quietly think as I sit in a group meeting. All I've done were things that were inevitable. Nothing really wrong or even right, just meant to be or bound to happen.

It's easier to shift the blame to just say, "I didn't have control of the situation." And  "it's not my fault. "
The problem is that it is my fault. No God I believe in to blame and no satan either, just me.

These are thoughts running through my head as I look out through the frost tinted window. The sunlight barely streaming in to light up the cold barren room. Not counting all eight plastic foldable chairs in a loose circle shape. They were the only tangible things in the room beside a small table in the corner and a positive poster hung right where you enter the room.

I couldn't be bothered to read it when I entered, the somehow impossibly drafty room. But as I peer over I can make out the words "smile" and "happy" not in that order though.

Anyways I'm sure your wondering why I'm in this room with shitty chairs and a shitty poster huh? Well that's a long story but I might as well give you the bare minimum so you can follow along.

I tried to kill myself.

Wow okay I know what your thinking or at least I'll pretend I do. "Why would you do that?", "Are you okay?". Or if your one of those godly types your more along the lines of "You go to hell for killing yourself" "That's a sin!!". And look to be honest I don't really care, if this "God" didn't want us to do it, why make it an option? But now your thinking and possibly saying aloud "suicide isn't a option". I have to disagree. You can choose to commit suicide via making it an option. Case closed my friend's.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry getting dramatic, before I even tell you what happened. I suppose I've pandered enough, you see I was abused as a child. I have tried a total of 3 to 4 times to end myself, spaced a few years between of course.
Now I'll bring you back to the present I'm sure you don't want to hear my whole sob story.

Carrie sitting diagonally from me would not stop talking, I mean come on girl finish your speech. We all just want to be done here. I should probably introduce her, yes her name is Carrie like the Stephen King character. Including the religious crazy mom. I swear her parents were thinking pretty preemptively.

She has waist length blond-brown hair and blue eyes if I had to guess her height I'd say around 5'2. Every time she walks into group she's wearing a calve length floral dress honestly I think that's the only type of clothing she owns. I would never say anything to her though. We all have our struggles, we all need help, she struggles with bulimia and crazy parents. I struggle with suicidal tendencies.

Moving on from her, my eyes glance at my small black leather wristwatch. I'm still surprised the staff and nurses didn't confiscate it. Fifteen minutes and I'm gone.
I loathe these meetings, I despise the tiled floors, the hospital smell and the fake caring and smiles. This whole environment seems pitted against me. Anything and everything that could make me uncomfortable or anxious, does so to top it all off we can't wear shoes! Shoes! Well its either that or take out the laces. But that is basically unthinkable so socks it is.

Dr. Anderson is speaking about the next meeting however I only catch the tail end. I can feel my bouncing leg and how it shakes the chair. I look down frequently checking my tiny watch, hoping a minute will pass each time I look.

"We'll have someone new joining us be sure to welcome him and make him feel at home"

He finish's with a fake smile and a loud clap signaling time is up. Everyone stands up and folds their plastic chairs setting them to lean against the wall. And just as I think I'm in the clear, Dr. Anderson places a hand on my shoulder quite literally grabbing my attention.

"You feeling okay today? You didn't really participate in group. Do you need to talk?" He speaks sounding like a robot says its one programed line.

" Oh I'm good just feeling a little tired today". I throw my best smile to compliment my lie. If he notices, he doesn't say anything, he just gives me another forced smile, claps me on the back and goes to harass the nearest nurse.

You see the staff here don't care.
As long as their getting paid they couldn't care less what your feeling or if you killed someone. All they would do is nod and say

"That's great honey, as long as your happy"

and walk away to get more coffee or oversea the commons.

I start to jog down to the little space they called the main office. Three doors down the hall from the meeting room. The room that hellish meeting just occurred

Comfortably it could fit maybe four people not so comfortably it could fit six. As I approach, the nurse i'd come to know as "Mean Melissa" swirls around in her tall chair to face me. Her brown eyes practically form a scowl the moment she sees me. She is a average sized women around five four in height but if she wanted to she could strike terror in your heart.

The only thing separating us was an opening glass window. Glaring, she checks me up and down, from my socks, skinny jeans and black sweater and finally my face, prominent freckles and light brown eyes.

Melissa picks up the large plastic bag holding my belongings from the Cubbies and opens the window and shoves it.  Knocking the bag onto the small counter space nearly making it fall off the edge. Lets just say me and her didn't have a good reputation.

Grabbing the small bag I go to sit in a small wooden chair nestled into the side of the small area. Looking down the hallway I notice a light orange hue due to the low budget lighting.
Several doors span down the hallway most rooms empty with everyone eating in the commons of the hospital.

Slipping on my black converse, I notice the other people from my meeting approaching the main office, that's my queue to leave. Nodding to the security guard as i approach the doors leading out of the ward. I head out knowing I'll be back next week