Only Denied

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Chapter Twelve

Title from the song Remembering Sunday, by All Time Low

I was woken up by the loud knocking, I didn't bother to open my eyes, they didn't feel like opening anyway. There was a heaviness in the air and I couldn't help but let it bring my mood down as well. There was no forgetting what I saw last night, the picture of him and his skeletal body haunted my mind and I cringed at the thought. I heard Jack get off his bed, I heard his light feet walk across tile flooring, and I heard the bathroom door close.

Almost instantly, I convinced my eyes to open and it took me a moment but I was awake. I felt as if my body was glued to the bed, I couldn't convince my muscles to get out of bed.

How are you supposed to get out of bed and carry on with life when you don't even want to be alive?

Jack walked back in the room. We were both silent, usually at this time we were conversing or complaining about the dress code, he showed me his band shirts anyway. I watched as Jack pulled a baggy sweat shirt over his blue shirt. I was only now noticing how skinny he was, if he didn't wear a jacket he looked as skinny as Andrew, and it was obvious Andrew had an eating disorder. "Jack?" I croaked through the silence, he didn't even seem to notice me. I waited a few seconds before sighing and getting up, deciding I'd try again later, I walked into the bathroom and glanced at the hideous reflection in the mirror. I was feeling worse than I have all week, maybe It'd work if I stole another fork this time.

After I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, and went to the bathroom I walked out and immediately to the cafeteria for breakfast. Will Jack ever talk to me again? Did I ruin my chances with him? I felt even worse as I entered the room and smelt the food I wasn't hungry for, I lost my appetite. I made it through the line, watching the woman as she placed an omelet and bacon on my tray, she then put a small carton of milk on my tray and excused me to a table. I sat at my usual table as everyone came one at a time, they tried talking to me but I was unenthusiastic in my words as I mentally battled myself. About five minutes after Vic sat down he was urging me to eat with a cheerful tone, I ignored it and propped my head up with my hands, looking down at the brown table as if it held the answers to all of my problems. It didn't.

"Are you okay?" I heard Jonny ask, I numbly nodded without looking up at him, his concern only worsening my thoughts. He doesn't really care! I could feel their eyes on me so I buried my head in my arms, hiding my face from all of them. I wasn't crying, I was just sad. I don't know if sad was an appropriate word, I was extremely sad, more than that. I was sad to the point words could not explain, I was so sad I could feel a pain in my chest.

I want to kill myself.

I heard my plate being pulled away from me and I heard a fork against the plate, was someone eating my food? I didn't have the energy to look up to see what was happening. A few minutes later the plate was slid back towards me, I looked up and saw that over half of the omelet was taken, I gave it a confused look before looking at Vic with an expecting look on his face. He cleared his throat "I cut it up and stuffed the small pieces in the other half of the omelet, I see eating disorder patients do it all the time, it looks like you ate at least half of what you're supposed to so you won't lose five points. You don't have a problem with eating, so you're welcome" he explained, I gave him a blank look but I was actually impressed with what he did, I was satisfied.

In the next five minutes we were able to leave, I got out with only losing three points and when I got out I wasn't sure exactly what to do, or where to go. I was too tired to go to the day room, I didn't have the energy, I'm sad. I'm also not up for going back to our room because Jack is there.

I decided to go back to my room anyway and when I did Jack didn't even bother looking up at me. I smiled at his nurse and walked over to my bed, pulling myself onto the bed, out of energy already, and pulling out my book so I could look productive. I stared at a page, not reading, but pretending to read. My sadness didn't go away as the room drenched itself in the silence that was darkening my thoughts with every second.

I could smother myself in my pillow.

I could hit my head so hard against the wall that it would kill me, or at least give me brain damage..because anything is better than this.

I could strangle myself with my long sleeves.

I could..act okay and wait to get out..

When I get out I can shoot myself, or jump off a bridge, or hang myself, or take pills, or cut a vein, or jump in front of a train..there are so many more options out there but I don't know if I can make it.

I didn't even notice that Jacks nurse had left, leaving us alone in the same room. The silence was bitter, I could feel the hatred Jack had for me in this moment. I was discouraged, but at the same time I was determined to help Jack get out. He can't stay here forever, they're already talking about moving him to a different hospital. I glanced over at the skunk haired boy, his focus was diverted to his hands as he picked his fingernails.

"Jack, I know you don't like might even hate me..but I want to help you. I will help you" I said slowly, Jack paused but didn't look up. "I will fucking help you, I don't care if you never talk to me again, I just want to help you get out" I said in a harsh tone this time. It was good to end on, with that I got up and made my way to the door for my first therapy of the day.
I hope Jack lets me help him.


I glanced at my lady bug sitting on top of Jacks side of the dresser, and Jacks lady bug sitting on my side of the dresser. Jack was gone, I didn't know where he was, probably in the day room. All I knew was that he's better off in there anyways..everyone is better off without me.
I'm lonely.
I'm scared.
I'm tired.
I'm depressed.
I'm anxious.
I'm confused.
I'm sad..
Sad is a really really small word, I feel like it's almost too small to describe how I really feel. But in a way it's the only word to explain how I feel, and maybe it's small because it's helping to describe how small I feel.

Kill yourself.

I cringed at how quickly my thoughts escalated, is it natural for people to feel this bad all the time? Will I even survive another day in my own mind?
Did I want to survive if things continued like this?


Stop it! stop!

Stop thinking like this, goddammit.

Stop fucking thinking about anything.

I felt the tears come as I battled my own mind, part of me wanted to die but the other part didn't want to give up. The part that wanted to die was winning.
No one fucking cares.
I was crying, of course I was crying, I'm always crying. At this time I didn't care, I didn't care about getting out, I didn't care about anything. I needed a release. Without thinking it through I started to violently scratch at my wrists with what fingernails I had. No blood was drawn, but scratches showed up In red, it wasn't enough. Dinner would be soon, I would steal a fork, maybe that could draw at least a little blood. I was shaking now, shaking for no reason really, I held back a sob as I pulled my arm in front of me and bit down hard on my arm. With every second I bit down harder and harder, not letting up until I tasted the metallic blood. Pulling away, I saw the bite mark on the side of my wrist, it wasn't bleeding very much, but the bright red wound was sure to bruise.
I was satisfied, but not enough, my shakiness lessened and I closed my eyes for a moment. Breathe.

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