I just can't breathe anymore, I feel like my lungs are occupied by something other than oxygen, kind of like I'm drowning.
But it doesn't even feel like I'm drowning anymore. My arms are tired and my legs have given up. I'm not even trying to save myself anymore nor is anyone else.
This isn't drowning... This is sinking.
I sink to the floor, overthinking and overanalyzing every single spec of my being, my self-pity consuming every corner of my mind.
I'm too deep in thought to even observe the sound of a door opening, followed by an abrupt and audible gasp.
I slowly turn my head to the left of me to locate the provider of the noise, but a sudden darkness washes over me, causing me to slip into a state of unconsciousness.
The painting on my arm clearly visible and the blade still laying delicately in my limp, left palm.
***
The rattling of a car engine and the continuous bumps on the unlevel road is what causes me to snap back to life and reality, unfortunately may I add.
I look down at my pale wrist, which was now in a lazily wrapped bandage, now stained with red liquid, hiding my most recent work of art from the world.
I take the time to survey my odd surroundings, but failing as all I can see were tall trees and nothing more. I even fail to recognise the fact that I've actually been on this journey many a times, as I'm too intoxicated by confusion to think straight right now...
It's all too much, one minute I was laying on the cold, hard bathroom floor and the next I'm in the backseat of an all too familiar car on an all too familiar journey.
I look up at the driver of the car, and I evidently relax.
'Daddy...' I whisper, taking note of how loud my voice sounds amongst the deathly silence "Where are we going?"
He just sighs, and I instantly recognise it as the sigh that I had heard earlier before I had slipped into the dark.
He takes a moment, evidently debating in his mind, whether or not to tell me, making the tension and my confusion increase, by the second.
He sighs, yet again, before speaking up.
"Honey, you're going back."
I didn't even have to ask what he meant because I had already put 2 and 2 together and I knew exactly what he meant.
I was going back to hell.
Also known as, The South Shore Mental Institution for Troubled Teens...
_______
_____
_____
okay I've been procrastinating a lot I'm sorry but finally an update yay
idek if this is any good
and btw the mental Institution thing isn't an actual institute I don't think lul
THANKYOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR THE READS, AND THE FOLLOWS, AND THE COMMENTS AND THE VOTES KEEP EM COMING GUYS
ILY GUYS STAY PIZZA
YOU ARE READING
Show me...
Fanfictionhow a girl who doesn't talk to anyone and has a strange phobia of fish, and a boy who spends his time writing poems about love although is almost incapable of feeling anything except infatuation , begin to break down in each other's walls whilst tra...
