Mentally Broken

6

Chapter song: Blessed with a Curse by BMTH
(Mia's pov)
We throw our food away, then leave the room to deal with its own wreckage. We sit in the same plastic chairs that remind me of 2nd grade, and listen boringly to the speaker. She's talking all professional about effort and when to use it. I play with my tooth-marked fingers instead, which are scarred from puking myself a while back. I really hate myself. I really wish I was dead. I was so close. So close to reaching happiness, ending my misery. It bothers me the more I think about it, because it's such a simple task and I fucked it up.
During the monotonous lecture, I hear a few people cry. It's sort of sad and emotional. It's not embarrassing, like when you cry at school. It's more of a relatable moment, slightly. When the talking is finally over, Justin and I sit against the wall in the corner.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Justin mutters and stares blankly in front of him. Schizo or not, I find myself interested in his life.
"I have an idea." Bones aching, I stand up and bring back a couple of blank sheets of paper and pens.
"Let's get to know each other better," I smile friendly at him, and break his thoughts and muttering. He looks at me with little interest. I'm sure that's about as much as I'm getting from him, so I take it as a yes.
"Here, write down your favorite things, and I'll write mine," I give him a piece of paper and a pen. After moments of him processing my words, he takes it and starts writing. I write a list of my favorite things: reading, any kind of music, horror movies, art, and rock climbing. Justin and I trade papers, and I scan through his sloppy handwriting. He likes drawing, R&B, Cap'n Crunch, black, cigarettes, and haunted houses. Wow, we have a lot in common, based on our interests.
"You're really cool, Justin. Let's write things we hate now," I hand the paper back as he hands mine back too. I write: life, this place, the world, myself, and people who don't understand me. Justin and I trade papers again. I read: this hell-hole, everything, my mistakes, and life.
"We hate a lot of the same things," I state, and he nods and smiles agreeably. It's a sad smile.
"You know, I wonder how you'd look without your hood on," I bet his hair is perfect. All I can see is a little bit. Justin gives me a warning yet threatening look, then slides his hood down. I notice his sexy messy hair, but my eyes snap immediately to his neck.
There are scratches all over Justin's neck, some deep, some light.
"W-What happened?" I breathe out in extreme concern, my eyebrows furrowed.
"Bad dreams," he mutters, the mint on his breath barely reaching my nose.
"But...what-" "Nevermind, you don't understand," he flicks his hood back on, concealing his scratched neck.
(Justin's pov)
"How would you know?" Mia has challenge yet confusion in her eyes. The whispering has died down a little. It usually comes back and then stops again. It's a tiring process, but they're stronger at night and in the evening. I wish I could understand why and where they come from.
"I don't know," I mutter truthfully, hoping the voices decide not to come back today.
"Well, maybe I do understand a part of it. I go through something like that," she pulls up her sleeves to reveal a line of cuts up and down her wrists. My mouth goes dry, and for the first time in forever, I lift her arm closer to me. My mom had these same marks on her. I never realized why she killed herself. I never realized what it meant. Holding Mia's arm is like holding my mom's. Who knew they'd have so much in common.

I do what I would've done if my mom were still alive: I kiss her wrists. Mia sucks in a breath, and her eyes are confused and broken. Her skin is cold and pale, but I find it normal. I kiss every self-made cut drawn on her wrists until every cut has a sign of affection on it. Mia pulls her sleeves back down past her fingertips and wipes her eyes, which are watered up.
"I-I-I guess I owe y-you." Her voice is shaken; then she slides my hood back off. I stand, tensed and frozen, fearful yet lost. I don't like to be touched. It makes me feel threatened. But I also don't like rejecting Mia. She gently places her soft lips against my neck, standing on her toes. I stand still and let her. I'm surprised that the nurses haven't got onto us yet.

I've never felt anything like this. Yes, I've been kissed before but never here. My neck is a personal spot for me. How I get the scratches on my neck is uncontrollable. I scratch my neck the same way I scratch the wall, floor, chair, anything. I do it in my head. The voices say that it's a way out. I say it's an expression of my madness. It's all craziness. It's an effect of being fucked up in the head.

When Mia finishes, she pulls my hood back over my head. We are both speechless in a daze until someone shouts for lunch. Wordlessly, we head into the cafeteria to be served with cold turkey sandwiches, apple slices, and water. Mia barely nibbles on half of her apple slices and pretends to take big bites whenever a nurse walks by.
"Calm down," I give her a light smile because she needs it. She's been skittish all day. I know it's because of the stolen razor.
"I am," she puts down her apple and sighs in distress.
"I'll eat the rest of your apples for you," I offer, willing to help her in anyway I can.
"No thanks, you don't ha-" "Maybe I do," I can't let Mia get in trouble for this. I take the rest of her apples and bite into one.
"...Thank you," she mumbles with her eyes on her turkey sandwich, which I know she won't eat either.
"Mia, do you mind if I join you?"
Jake cuts in, like someone invited him. I tense up and narrow my eyes. He's up to something. I know it. He's got to be some kind of criminal, but look who's talking.
"No. Not at all," Mia replies with friendliness in her voice. C'mon, Mia, don't let him in.
"You're very beautiful," Jake says out of nowhere, making me aggravated. He doesn't know her, probably doesn't want to know her either. He just wants to get in her pants.
"Oh...thanks." I glance at Mia to see her cheeks flushed with red.
"Would you care to join me at my table?" Jake wants more than Mia to sit at his table. I just know it.
"Uhm, not right now. Lunch is almost over," Mia declines self consciously. Secretly, I was hoping she would say no.
"Ok, maybe tomorrow," Jake winks, then leaves the table. I notice Mia is still blushing.
"Seriously?" I mutter without looking at her and without thinking.
"What? It's not like I'm in love with him. Yeah, he's cute and all, but he's not my type. Plus, I don't want to leave you," she smiles warmly at me. I smile back in return. Damn, I've never had a friend like Mia before. That's the nicest thing that's ever been said to me.
"I'm back," Katie was next to show up and sit at our table.
"Hey," Mia seems happy to be getting along with so many people. But I know she's nervous. Her eyes seemed worried yet happy.
"So how are you liking this place?" Katie's always smiling. I notice that strong people smile a lot. If I could guess anything about Katie, is that she's probably been through something tragic in her life. I don't know much about her, but I'm pretty sure she's been through a lot.
"I hate it," Mia grumbles miserably, and I can't blame her. I hate it here too.
"Yeah, it's terrible, but you learn to embrace it," Katie smiles happily, like everything's ok. Everything is not ok. It never will be.
"We better go. There's visitations in about 15 minutes," Katie stands up, and so do we. Visitations are on Mondays and Saturdays. It's when family or friends visit a patient, and they just talk. I don't have anyone, so nobody wants to see me. "Does anyone visit you?" Katie asks both of us. I shake my head. Mia shrugs and lowers her eyes.
"C'mon Mia, you can trust me, and Justin's good at keeping secrets," Katie urges her to admit to the question. I'm not even aware of what we're talking about. But I'm only aware of the sound of Mia's voice.
"Well...I'd like to see my family, but they're part of the reason I'm in this mess," Mia speaks sorrowfully.
"I'm sure they'd want to see you," Katie says encouragingly with her hand on Mia's shoulder.
"Maybe," Mia's eyes have betrayal and loneliness in them, like they're building up a storm.
"You never know," Katie's eyes are bright, less complicated than Mia's.
"Mia, someone's here to see you,"- nurse cuts in the conversation. Mia sighs and follows wordlessly. I guess Katie was right. Someone is here to see Mia.