When I left the hospital after a record time of six months, I was at home being a slump to my parents. Oh they must've loved making sure I had the same old medicine every single day just to make sure their son didn't randomly die thanks to some guy with nice fingernails in a hallway. Or was it an alleyway.. I still can't quite remember, I'll think about it later. As long as we are talking about memory, I have been forgetting more and more lately, and I find it quite odd to be perfectly blunt.
Sometimes I'll forget things that aren't too important to remember, like what I had for breakfast yesterday. Or sometimes I'll forget more important things, like I can't even remember what I look like without looking into a mirror or looking at myself. Or even more so, I forgot my own birthday. I don't bother to ask my parents because I worry that they'll tease me about it and say that I was kidding with them and going right back to whatever the heck they were doing at the moment.
My mother came downstairs, handing my my bottle of pills, two of which I had to take every day. I got out a bottle of water that I had nearby and took a sip, swallowing the pills. I drank some extra water just to make sure it all went down. My mom smiled, taking back the bottle from me and going off into the kitchen. I could tell it was a fake smile of course, I was in the dang hospital forever. She must've been really upset. If I had to estimate anything out of what I knew about hospital fees, it would probably be about one thousand or so dollars I'd say.
And then I figured how much for the pills. Let's say just for one bottle of pills, it costs my parents about twenty dollars. Over a week I would have had at least fourteen pills. And there were only twenty pills in that bottle, so I would have used them all by ten days into a month. There are usually twenty or thirty days in a month, so they would have used forty dollars in one month. Over a year they would have used up four hundred and eighty dollars of their money just to support my proper throat health, which personally had me worried.
But that was just an estimate, I doubt one bottle of pills would actually cost twenty dollars but another thing in my mind told me what happened to my neck probably didn't happen common enough to make those pills cheap. I shook my head, looking over to the doorway. I could have graduated if I wasn't so useless. Just because I couldn't defend myself from someone attacking me I wouldn't be making my parents suffer. It was all my fault that they were all going to be in trouble because of my health, I was the cause.
I should just make it easier for them. Just, run away or... Do what Jenna did. My father had come downstairs while I had been deep in thought and smacked me on the forehead when he saw I wasn't paying attention to what he was saying. I opened my eyes, looking around to see I was sitting in the middle of my high school. I was confused, I looked around. Somebody turned to me and made a face when their line of sight just so happened to meet the level of where my neck was.
I glanced down in an attempt to see what they had made that face for, seeing large bruises in the shape of the fingernails running up my neck. I knew just what they were thinking about those bruises, of course. They were high schoolers and I was a high schooler, we all knew what each other thought. I pulled up my shirt collar, closing my eyes to blink when I opened them again the scene had changed again. I was standing in some familiar woods and I looked around my surroundings.
I blinked again, seeing once I opened my bedroom to my alarm beeping off of usual beat. I looked over, feeling a pain in my neck. So I was hallucinating. I struggled not to blink when I grabbed the pill bottle and tried to desperately read the label. I saw the side effects and read it out loud. Hallucinations, epileptic seizures, suicidal thoughts, bipolar affects, trouble thinking critically and planning. ~Jenna ;). I shook my head, had Jenna planned this out? Did Jenna come back as one of those hooded figures just to mess with me because I killed him?
Obviously that's what was happening at the moment. He was trying to get back and get his revenge because of what I did to him. Didn't he know that it was an accident? Obviously not. I blinked out of need and opened my eyes again to see the last setting I could remember around me. It was my regular old couch and I signed out loud. Did my mom not read the pill bottle, or was I the only one that could see that writing? I have a lot more questions then I have answers right about now and it wasn't making me feel any more better then my neck feeling very, incredibly soar.
I let out a shaky breath and my mind started to wander again. Did I actually matter to anyone? Would my life ever mean anything to anyone I knew? Was I real? If I was real, was I a good enough person to be worth being real? I wasn't sure anymore, I don't know anymore. I'm just another face that no one will recognize in the next 50 years, so what is the point in living if my life isn't even going to be valid? I guess in the end we only life simply for the experience of living, and I didn't like that thought.
"What are you thinking about now, Kieran?" My mother's voice asked.
