Fucked up: Tiktok boys bxb

Three

The lady came back in with one of the nurses and they came over and start unlocking my restraints. Once the last one came off I immediately curled into a ball pulling my knees into my chest and holding them. I was sobbing even though I was out of them now my whole body was sore and that was honestly psychological torture. "Jaden is it okay if I touch you?" I heard Bryce's soft voice ask. I nodded and I felt a hand run across my back slowly rubbing it comfortingly. I flinched at first not having a lot of experience with positive physical contact but I relaxed letting him continue.

"You're lucky if his family doesn't sue you for that." I heard the lady say to the nurse. He walked out and I heard her heel clicks walk to me and sit in a chair close by. I finally calmed down and got up. I slowly stood rubbing my eyes and stretching hearing my back pop loudly. I took a sharp painful breath as it hurt but felt good. I exhaled then walked to the bathroom, finally.

Once I walked back out I made eye contact with the lady. I sat on the bed leaning against the wall. I grabbed my whiteboard, Thank you. I showed her the board and she read it before looking at my wrist seeing my bracelet. "You're mute?" She asked and watched me nod. "This hospital sucks."  She said under her breath. I guess they didn't tell her. "My name is dr. Minick and I have a few questions for you."

"So why are you here Jaden?" She asked clicking her pen. I pulled up my sleeves. Showing the bandages. Thats weird. There is more blood. Her eyes lingered on my arms before she grabbed my wrist looking closer. The sudden contact startled me and I yanked my arm away. I wrote down, Sorry but please ask before you touch me. She nodded, "I'm sorry, that was rude of me. May I see your arm?" I nodded and pulled my sleeve down not wanting to see the bandages. Slowly I held my arm out. She grabbed my hand and pushed my bracelet up and traced her finger around the base of my wrist where it met my hand. "Jaden what are these from?" She said referring to the scars around both wrists. I swallowed the air clearing my throat as if I could even talk. I wrote, Hours in tight handcuffs everyday. 

She continued asking questions and I decided to be honest about everything except my mom, I said nothing about her.  My arm feels kind of wet but thats probably just from me seeing the blood, imagining the feeling. Dr. Minick told me that I no doubt have ptsd but she need to talk go some other doctors opinions before making any other diagnosis. She thinks I have a panic disorder too. She doesn't want to diagnose depression straight away incase its something else. She also thinks. I may be able to talk again with a lot of therapy. I would give so much to talk again.

She left and I was sitting there holding my arms since they were sore from the tight restraints. I went to check for a bruise realizing there was blood going through my sleeve. I pulled up the sleeve to reveal a blood soaked bandage and the same with the other arm. My stitches must have come loose from the pulling at the arms from me trying to get loose earlier. I grabbed my board writing, Help! I then realized the boys had left. I stood up to get a nurse but fell back down from getting really light headed. Maybe I'll actually die this time. The thing is i'm not sure I want to die anymore. Please someone come in. I can barely even move. I feel really tired. I tried picking up the marker and hitting it against the metal bed frame to make some noise but it wasn't that loud and I don't think it will get anyones attention. I'm just so sleepy and its getting harder and harder to open my eyes when I close them to blink. Maybe this time it is goodbye.

I woke up with the feeling of someone running their fingers through my hair. I felt really cold, I opened my eyes and saw that my sweatshirt was gone and my bare chest was on display. I put my hands over my chest feeling insecure and looking up to see Bryce sitting next to me. I sat up pulling my knees to my chest putting a hand on my shoulder to cover up my scar. My arms had been rebandaged.