Feel Real

Chapter 13

                “Got it.”

                High security is stupid; I’m bored out of my mind. Good thing my mind is controlled with thoughts of my dead brother. Sam, Sammy. My brother who I cherished more than life is dead and I was making love to a boy I barely know as he died. Stupid me. Stupid Daniel, screw him. I chose him over my brother, the first boy I loved died as I betrayed him by loving another. He probably misses me like crazy, wondering what I’m doing and thinking. Stupid boy. How dare he think I will forgive him for the injustice he has done. Tears started to stream down my face and I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Sam.”

                “Should’ve let me kill myself,” I told Racheal. “It would be easier, cheaper. More time for you to spend, another patient to look over. And I’d be happy with my brother, running through pastures of green grass and laughing. The pain feels good, I bask in it. Not the pain from the loss of my brother, it suffocates me more than actually being choked. But any outside pain: needles, glass, pencils, guns, razor blades. Anything that will draw blood and has the potential to end a life will suffice. Pain is bliss. Death is release.”

                Racheal looked at me with a concerned look. You’d think I just killed her cat right in front of her eyes. She has no idea what she got into.

                Man it feels good to be insane.

                                                                                                                                ***

I was numb.

                I did as I told: Ate, talked, slept. I played the game. From the outside I seemed to be getting better: I had no outbreaks and I acted how I should’ve. On the inside I was dying. My mind raced, the pain of my brothers loss making it hard to breathe. It took all of me to eat and I never slept, I perfected looking asleep when anyone came into my room at night. I was insane.

                Racheal said she knew me, knew I kept my feelings within. But the truth was she didn’t know me at all. She thought I was getting better, becoming heathier. She told me I was right on track to get out of here in two weeks, maybe even less. She was clueless to my true mental state, she should be fired.

                All I wanted to do was throw something, let my aggression out. I was a caged animal aching to be set free. This hospital had no clue. Honestly, I should become an actor, since I have mental specialists convinced I’m sane when I’m the complete opposite.

It was one week. And my parents were coming at nine for the first checkup. Today Daniel will see me and today I will spit on his shoes. I still don’t forgive him. My heart aches for my brother, not him. He can go to hell as far as I am concerned.

                “She is improving quite rapidly considering the situation,” Racheal said. Sitting in a room with my parents and Racheal without Sam in my lap was excruciating, my entire body ached for his presence.

                “Now, this doesn’t mean the situation had scarred her, because it has. But, this simply means she is using the coping methods we’ve taught her. With the continuation of extensive therapy I believe she can be out of here by Friday evening if the session that morning goes well. Then it will be back to living with the rest of the patients and she’ll still be set to leave in five weeks. When she goes back to be with the rest of the patients she will be watched over more carefully for the first two weeks, she will be unable to leave the facility and is required to attend all therapy sessions and eat every meal. Of course, she will be able to leave for her brother’s funeral. When is it scheduled?”