The stories in my flesh (Sequel to scars)

Part 11

Note; This is two months later.

Today' the speakers name is Delia. I take a seat next to Nick who's drawing random stuff on his paper. My eyes are itchy and puffy from crying. I cried for what seemed forever and eventually fell asleep for an hour. That's all I do lately, I just cry and sleep, wake up and cry again. Dr. Smith tried to decided to give me a stronger medication because she thought I was really "affected' by my parents visit. The medication is stronger, I can feel it. I felt a little dizzy before coming to class or whatever you want to call it.

These classes are useless, they don't make me feel any better at all. All it does is remind me of everything I've lost and the pain I'm feeling. Delia tells us to write anything we would like, I'm fighting the drowsiness the pills are causing me. Nick starts to write and I lay my head down on the table. Amy glances at me and mouths, "What's wrong?" all I do is shake my head and turn the other way facing Nick. I watch as his pencil moves left to right, he catches me looking but I don't look away.

He seems to get annoyed with it because he turns his paper to the right so I can't read it, I wasn't trying to anyways. I close my eyes and feel myself fall asleep when somebody taps my shoulder, I quickly get up perplexed. And Delia is standing behind me, "Why aren't you writting anything?" she asks.

I don't answer, "You're suppose to participate." she says trying to whisper but Amy and Carrie are looking over here. "I don't know what to write about." I tell her looking down at the white floor. "Just right what you're thinking right here." she taps my head lightly. "I don't think you want to know whats up here." I say looking at her. She smiles sympathetically. "I think I do." then she walks over to answer Scott's question.

I go back to lay my head down on my desk, then I grab my pencil. My hand is shaking, was this a side effect of the pills? Nick occasionaly glances at me, what do I write about? What's on my mind? I can't think straight right now, I'm thinking of so many things at one time. But then my pencil starts to move, and I'm writting.

"She feels so alone, nobody talks to her. She's hurting so bad, she's in too much pain to make it on her own. The hurt she can't control overflows to anything sharp she can find. A knife, a razor, scissors, plastic forks. Anything as long as it can slide through her skin. She writes on her arm, how much she wants to give up her life. And that's why she fakes a smile. Her eyes are dead, her wrists are marked with scars, her thighs are bruised. Thats why she has to take two little white pills everyday, to help with her depression. But she doesn't want help. No, she doesn't want to be saved. All she can think of is pain. Fake smile. Dead eyes. Scarred wrists. Bruised thighs. White pills. Rope tied. Gun loaded. Suicide."

When I'm done I feel extremely sick. Delia walks over and reads my paper, her face goes pale and she looks at me. "Sydney.." Before she can finish her sentence I put my hand over my mouth and run out to the bathroom. I end up puking everything in the toilet, one of the side effects was this. I flush the toilet and stay there sitting down.

Somebody walks in the bathroom. "Sydney! Are you okay?" Amy sits beside me, she's shaky. "I'm fine." I whisper wiping my teary eyes. "Oh God, why did you run out like that?" She asks touching my hair. "I felt sick. Those stupid depression pills make me get many side effects and they're horrible." I say.

"I'm so sorry. I wish you wouldn't feel this way." She says. "I hate this place. I hate all this. I can't stand being here anymore. It's been two months and it feels like an eternity." She's looking at me with tears on her eyes. "It hurts me to see you like this." We've grown so close and now I regret it. Because now I'm ruining Amy's life. Now I'm making her sad, my father was right. It's all my fault.

"Don't cry, Amy. I'll be fine. Don't you worry, it's just the pills, but I'll be fine. Go back to class, I'll catch up with you in a few seconds, okay?" She looks unsure are first but nods, I give her a hug and she sniffles. "I love you Sydney, and don't think I'm a lesbian, okay? I love you like a sister, like a friend. And I don't want you to be hurt." That makes me warm inside, it's the most affection I've received since Anthony. Amy is a good friend.

She gets up and leaves, when she's gone I look up at the ceiling. Minutes later I hear the door open. "Amy, I told you to give me a few minutes."

But then I look who walked in.

And it's not Amy.