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Twenty One: Accepting Defeat

Defeat.

That's the only word I can use to describe my experience yet again, I gave in and it wasn't pretty to witness. My parents had contacted my psychiatrist once again and she soon came to see me, I knew how the system worked and didn't oblige to her plan.

So here I am now, back in a hospital bed under close observation, the joys of being confused and apparently ill. Wearing my all too familiar hospital gown that itches my skin, whilst I'm hooked up to machinery and have various people check on me throughout the day, informing me that I'm 'in a safe place,' don't they understand? My mind isn't safe, it doesn't matter where I am as my mind is the problem, not the location.

The doctors have informed me of my new medication, some tablets are the same as before but more intense. One tablet helps with hallucinations, another for sleeping, another for the voices and the others for things with long titles which I can't fully process, or care to process. All I care about is my plan.

Since spending near to a month under observation, having nurses watch me take my medication and having one of my parents sitting with me everyday much to my own dismay it has given me time to reflect carefully. For the first week of being here it was all about me, about my mental health and what they will do differently this time to try and stop it occurring again, key word being try.

The second week my parents and I spoke about my family, now that wasn't exactly the most pleasant of discussions to be had that's for sure. The truth about me is that I am a Mitchell, not a Sugg. My parents knew about Peter within the past five years as they were informed of his existence, making them almost as clueless as me for so long on another Mitchell as he was kept from us, it being a secret as his parents opted for a closed adoption, no string attached. The visions I had been having were from my subconscious, when I was in the crash that killed both of my parents, hence why I could hear the women's scream, that was my mother. We all went through the case Peter gave me and he even came to help me in the hospital, he and my parents talked and we're all civil, just.

It is believed that my mental health issues arised from my mothers side of the family, that it went back to her Great Great Grandmother who had committed suicide because of it, luckily for me I never took that step and instead here I am, a room that smells of hand sanitiser mixed with overpowering tulips.

By week three I was left alone, Zoe and Joe are oblivious to everything, they don't know about Peter, about my parents, nothing. But I'm sure they will in due time, once I'm better. In my time alone it allowed me to plot, dad went and brought me a replacement phone and I spent most of my time on it, not texting but planning, planning my revenge on Alfie and Caspar.

And that brings us up to now, my plan is being finalised and all I have to do is inform Jim when I'm allowed to go back to work. This week Jess is coming to keep me company since I haven't been at home for nearly two months, but Jim has been keeping her company most nights, as a good friend would do.

"Morning Alison." A familiar nurse walks into the room holding a tray that I'm all too familiar with now, I let out a sigh and place my phone next to me, locking it as I know it'll be a while until I can go back onto it.

This nurse is friendly enough, there have been others who are more strict with me and take my phone away, putting it further away out of my reach so I 'relax' but this nurse is more lenient with me, she may be in the same uniform but her attitude seems more modern. She has a young face, a kind face like my mothers one that holds compassion, her eyes are a warm Hazel, ones that hold sympathy towards the girl who cannot control her mind. She tucks her light brown hair behind her ear as loose strands from her bun fall down, she looks exhausted, as if she has lost the motivation to care, but here she is, trying to keep her spirits and mine up. As she moves closer she removes the tablets from the tray handing them to me along with some water.