A/N:
What was the guys name with a rubber toe?
-Roberto
(Get it, get it? Hahahahaha)
Oh god.
➳ ➳ ➳ ➳
Day 2
Another crappy day in this hell hole. The same dämn crappy food. the same dumb nurses. It was only day two and I was fed up. This dämn hospital bed was messing up my back.
Sitting down on a crappy hospital bed while watching reruns of how I met your mother wasn't really helping. I felt like a loon and now sitting here made me feel weak and hopeless.
They me moved down towards the south building because they said 'people like you are there'. what the hell was that suppose to mean. 'people like you' suck my ass. I'm not crazy nor am I going to relate to these dämn crazy people.
Okay yeah maybe it was crazy to attempt to commit because my girlfriend of only a few months died, but she had a huge impact in my life. She's the only one that knew the real me. She knew what I thought about myself as a person. She was the only one that did. And now she's gone.
Dämn it Mel.
Once you're gone you're gone and there's no going back. Some people try to forget about you, some people don't care but act as if they do, and some people feel guilt. I felt guilt.
If Mel didn't jump in front of me so I wouldn't get stabbed by that dämn knife she would be alive. Dämn it Melissa, you always have to make shït complicated.
I wonder what Evan felt. He better feel like shït and if he doesn't feel like shit he'll feel pain. I'm going to make him go through hell. He's going to wish he hadn't touched my Mel. My Melissa.
-
"How are you feeling Jc?" Dr.Dipshit asked.
"Shïtty." I scoffed.
"You have an appointment with Dr. Murphy later this evening." he was scribbling something on his notebook and looked up at me.
"Dr. Murphy?"
"Your therapist." I scoffed again. A fücking therapist. I knew I was going to get one but the thought of having a therapist made me feel fücking crazy.
which I'm not.
"I don't need a dämn therapist." I said sounding like a whisper.
"Sorry I can't make you not have a therapist; you need one. You tried to kill yourself. I have no choice but to make you go to a therapist until you no longer need one."
"Fück you, I'm not a dämn loon for crying out loud" I was beyond frustrated and pissed off.
"Jc please watch your language. and I understand you're not crazy but that doesn't change the fact you tried to commit suicide."
"Oh god stop bringing that shït up."
"I'll see you soon Jc, the nurse will be in here soon to give you your daily dose."
Dr. Dïpshit walked out of my crappy hospital room and headed to god knows where.
I stared at the same tv that I was staring at all day yesterday watching re runs of the same show once again.
I wonder what Evans doing right now. That dick head is probably finding some other girl to fück over. That ässholes gonna get it. When I get out he's dead meat. Or dead Evan.
But how am I going to get back at him? God only knows. Or the devil, cause I'm going to hell for this shït.
I could kill something or someone thats close to him, but I'm not really in the mood to go to fücking jail for this shït.
I could break something, but not just anything something that's close to him. Something that'll tear him apart.
I want him to hurt the way I hurt. I want him to feel the pain I felt when the love of my life was ripped from my heart. I want him to fücking pay.
Ässholes serve shït but I'm going to shove shït right up his fücking äss.
What the hell Jc?
Shut up.
I have hatred towards everything right now. Can you fücking blame me?
➳ ➳ ➳ ➳
Hope this chapter was alright. It's pretty short I'm sorry, I'm working on da next chapter!
and thank you for all your suggestions especially @its_jess_xox
Follow me on twitter if you want I mean like : @jcsbelly
And if you feel like adding me on snapchat that's pretty cool too - melissssa222
-Melissa
