brothers.

50~ Monica

November 30th, 2023

It had been three days since my attempt. Nonstop lying in bed, eating some food, getting checked by doctors and nurses and others. Dr. Cawman was coming more frequently now. I wasn't sure how long I'd be here, but it felt like forever already.

I'd blanked out the night I was admitted, and my arms were bleeding heavily when I came to. Nurses surrounded me, one of them with a black eye. So, not only did I have extra-thick bandages around my hands and arms, I was also tied down to my bed.

They were trying to calm me down as if I weren't strapped down and imprisoned like a criminal. Breathing exercises, conversations, sessions, and even some games. I had a TV in my room so I could watch what I wanted— I wasn't much of a TV person, but I watched anyway. There really wasn't anything good on.

The hospital had a beautiful garden near the psych ward. This was the only time I was allowed out of bed, unless I needed to go to the bathroom. I still didn't feel free with the employees trailing behind us, watching my every move.

It was very similar to the last time this happened, 4 years ago. I'd tried to throw myself out of a window at the group home I was staying in. The one employee that was nice to me caught me and saved me. She'd held me for a while, reassuring me that life would be better, that I had a second chance.

What a liar.

I found this experience better than the last, though. My therapist back then was convinced I was a pathological liar looking for attention. This time, I had someone listening to me, helping me feel better. Dr. Cawman helped my mood, but it didn't change the fact that I wanted out.

I was allowed to call the Fields once a day, but I hadn't answered or made any calls since I got in. I just didn't want to talk to them. I knew that, sooner or later, I'd have to, or Ms. Bredlong would think I was lying about wanting to stay.

The TV screen played out a cringey movie as I lied in bed. I'd just finished my walk with Dr. Cawman. I'd be served lunch soon. I stared blankly at the screen, barely registering the wooden dialogue and annoying characters.

There was a knock, diverting my attention. I expected a nurse, but instead saw a girl standing at the door. She was around my age, with red hair cascading in waves down her shoulders. Her large, pale green eyes stared at me.

I sat up carefully. "Hi?"

The girl's mouth flapped as she entered, staring at me. Her expression... it was that look.

"What do you want?" I snapped. I had way too much history with that stupid look to tolerate it now.

She blinked, smiling sheepishly. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I just... what's your name?"

"Diana. Why?" I said, apprehensive.

The girl was speechless again. She moved restlessly, looking out the door. Was she even supposed to be here?

I sighed, a bit impatient. "Do you need anything?"

"N-no. Um... it's nothing. Never mind. I'm sorry." She turned to leave, but was confronted by a nurse holding a tray.

"Monica, what are you doing here?" the woman demanded.

"I'm sorry, I was just-"

"You know you're not allowed in here." The nurse put the tray aside. She took the phone off the wall and dialed. "Do you know Ms. Watson? You need to ask for permission to visit your friends."

"I don't know her," I interjected.

"I'm sorry, she just looked so much like..."

This piqued my interest. "Amy?"