Living For Myself (Sequel)

Living

I had little interaction with the hospital staff this time around. There was someone sitting outside the closed door that switched every four hours, but I'm sure it was for suicide watch. Ah yes, just what I need. The nursing staff would come in every other hour to check my vitals and deliver food at their specified times, but other than that there was no one to talk to. I couldn't watch tv, I couldn't use my laptop, I couldn't have my phone, I couldn't even draw for entertainment. My hours were filled with imagining fake scenarios and playing them out in my head. It was weird, but it was like daydreaming pretty much... or really that is what it was.

The last time the doctor came in the check on me, he seemed worried about me. Not just because of the whole... issue... but because apparently there might be complications with my heart. It's unclear whether it's just from stress and recent events right now, but if I keep having bad luck then I'll be at a higher risk for strokes and heart attacks. I feel like divine retribution is coming at me now. Is this a way of showing me how I deserve to be in a grave already? I don't know, but what I do know is that I already tried to put myself into one and now look where I'm at. Maybe I should've just jumped off a bridge, the school, poisoned myself, overdosed, something else. I picked the worst and most painful method and now I want to die even more from boredom.

Maybe I shouldn't be complaining though... I'm alive, I'm breathing, and I still have to graduate. Jeez, I'm fucked. It's only been three days since the shit went down and I was hospitalized, again, and yet I still wish they'd let me have at least one visitor... I will renounce atheism if they do let me finally have a visitor.

After I finished that thought, the door swung open to reveal my mom with a look of horror on her face. "I take it back..." I whispered to myself, quiet enough so they didn't hear. She ran up to me and hugged me tightly, pressing the needles that were in me deeper while also squeezing my cut up arm. "Ow! What the fuck mom, I am hurt!" I cried out. She backed away and looked down at me with a sorrowful look.

"Oh... I'm sorry it's just... god I missed you and I hate this is how I had to see you again!" She cried loudly. She put her hands on her face and sniffles. "Why did you do it, Adelle? I thought everything was going great, so why?" She asked me. I looked away from her and looked outside the door. My father was standing right outside, grinning from ear to ear as if he was happy to see me in pain.

"You know why." I said bluntly, scowling at her. My mom looked at my father and then back at me with a frown.

"You need to move on. He changed." I slammed my uninjured arm down and pointed towards the door.

"Out. Get out. You really think that I told you was all that he did? You really think he changed? Bullshit. He's the same." I said back, hoping she would understand. My mom looked at me, hurt by what I had said, but then raised her hand and slapped me roughly across the face.

"You need to respect Steven, no, your dad. He's been so understanding with you and all you've done is hurt him. Get over yourself Adelle. You're the child, we're the adults." I scoffed at her.

"Fuck both of you then, once a scumbag, always a scumbag. You're no better than him then." She raised her hand again, but lowered it as soon as the security guard outside my room cleared his throat loudly.

"I'd leave now if I were you, ma'am. I'll have to escort you out otherwise." He said in a calm tone. My mom grunted angrily and stormed out of the room. Before they had left completely though, my father peaked his head in with a smile.

"You're dead meat." He mouthed at me before leaving. I sunk back into the bed sheets and let out a drawn in sigh as my voice quivered underneath. Soon enough, footsteps came closer to my door once again as a head peaked in.

"Adelle?" The voice called. I looked up to see Winter with a distraught look on her face. She walked closer to me, tearing up and she saw the bandages around my arm and thigh. "Jesus, Adelle, why didn't you talk to me...?" She questioned me, covering her mouth as she cried out to me.

I didn't answer her. She was the one person I didn't want here. I didn't want her to see me like this, so defeated and weak. I wanted to be strong around her and confident, but now she has to deal with this bullshit from me. Winter pushed her palm against the cheek my mom had hit and sucked in a breath.

"This is fresh, was it your mom?" She asked me. I looked right at her, shocked and dismayed at how she had known that. She must've noticed how I looked at her and smiled. "My mom did the same thing when I... tried to go through with it too." She hummed. Winter pulled up the bandanas she had around her wrists from when we last talked. Underneath them were several deep and dark wounds from cutting, not to mention fresh ones that were from possibly yesterday. She looked at me, smiling faintly with sadness filling her eyes. "It's been three years until now... I couldn't help it though. The first girl I actually wanted to try to have something with did this, I did it impulsively... I'm sorry for throwing this at you." She apologized.

I looked at her and then the cuts on her wrists with a frown. This means that I had caused her to do that. I made her break her streak. I fucked her life up like I did mine. This is all my fault, how could I have done this?

While thinking to myself, Winter wrapped her arms loosely around me and quietly shushed me to calm me down.

"This isn't your fault, so don't think it is. I'm here, I'm alive, and so are you. Just live, please?" She asked me with a strain in her voice. For once though, I wanted to try and live. I wanted to live and be able to make someone happy and support them. I wanted to do that for Nora... no... Winter.