How To Drown Me

Chapter 1 - Silence

I went through most of my life with a severely broken heart. But I never let anyone know that.

No, that was the worst thing that I could do.

Instead, I tried forcing myself to feel as little as possible. That way, I had no complications. Nothing was supposed to hurt me. But on the other hand, everything hurt me.

Pretending you had no heart was a double edged sword.

And the pathetic part was, I knew no better than that. Yes yes, I heard every possible piece of so called helpful advice, and still, I knew no better. Once, I was told that it was all up to me to change that, to become "just like the normal boys and girls".

..There was the problem. You leave a person alone for most of their life and you expect them to be okay.

Well, I wasn't. I just wasn't. I could name a million things that seemed to be wrong with me, and that would still change nothing. The only thing I ever got was silence. Silence seemed to drown me.

"I wonder how this hall would look if it was set on fire..."I muse out loud, knowing I could be heard.

I didn't care. But at times, I did wonder if I was a pyromaniac. I wanted to see the world burn a little too much. I smiled faintly.

The woman sitting beside me pulled her daughter close to her as soon as I spoke. I resisted the urge to throw her a crazed grin, or anything else that would make me seem even crazier. I could see her opinion was already formed the second she laid eyes on me, and that was when I walked in here an hour ago. Of course, my little theory of her being a judgemental bitch was right.

Most people did that, judge you based on your looks. Some do it unconsciously, having been taught that, some only because they believe there are certain standards we all must follow.

How exactly do tattoos, piercings, and certain hairstyles make you a dangerous looking person? It was a strange thing, to know that people cared so much about how one looked like. I like to think those kind of people have no actual life. And I'm probably right.

But, I guess my sense of style really wasn't so common in this town. I played with the chain that hung off my cargo pants, swinging my knee high Doc marten clad feet around, deep in thought. I wore a short sleeved leather jacket, so all of the temporary tattoos on my arm were on full display. These days tattoos were always associated with criminals and plainly, the worst kind of people.

Really ruins things for us who have the artistic trait, doesn't it?

And my keen little artistic eye told me this place was ugly. I had every right to set it on fire.

It was still too silent, save for the distant chatter out by the reception. No one passing by, just an empty hall. And it's been over an hour. But what the hell do I know at the age of nineteen, anyways?

Overall, the worst children's hospital you could visit.

"Yet I'm here again."I think, bitterly.

Perhaps ignorance is why I keep getting sent here. I was prone to illness. I had multiple physical issues. Naturally that means I basically lived in the hospital. Still, every doctor I had been to would advise me to go see a certain doctor.

Some would eye me as if I fell right from Mars, some would look at me with pity, some would think I'd give a fuck when they opened their mouth just to tell me how "unusual" my attitude was.

All because of the silence. The black sheep of the medical family, I'd always say. All because I wasn't talkative.

Sure, I will be nice to whoever is nice to me, but I am not someone who feels the need to talk freely. I liked doing my own thing, alone.

And that was why I was currently sitting in the waiting room and waiting for the psychologist to show up.

My hand balled into a fist, my long manicured nails pressing against my skin harshly. Though my expression remained cold.

They all thought something was wrong with me. Everyone. Everyone thought that.

I continued clenching my fist, surely leaving marks by now. If I was so horrible, why not go big and send me to an actual psychiatrist?

My eyes narrow as I take in the brightly painted walls, many cartoon like characters all there to put a sense of comfort. But that's just it, that was for kids. Not someone like me.

This way, I'm an even bigger loser than I already am.

And I wasn't even feeling sorry for myself, I know I'm a pathetic loser. Did anyone else have to get shoved into the children's hospital because their parents were too embarrassed to send them to an actual adult shrink? You know, in case someone might see. Nope, nope, nope. It was only me.

They pulled a few strings with my sister the psychiatrist, so I was able to come here. So much effort so no one knew.

I was always the bad example.

"Ana Jojo?"A different voice called.

I shot my head up, and finally, there stood the kid's shrink. The first thing my eyes fell on was the pink pen with a big flower on it, resting in the pocket of her white coat.

My hand was twitching to latch onto my arm and sink my nails into my sensitive skin, worse than earlier. I had to force myself to ignore that feeling. The lady couldn't know that. No one was supposed to know how easily angered I got. Luckily for me, I knew how to hide some things.

But I didn't even know what the hell was bothering me so much. Her pen? This place? I had to remind myself a few times I was just here for a conversation, before the feeling of rage went away. Nothing bad would happen, this was all to my benefit.

'Now, when you go there, don't say stupid shit that will make us look bad. You are normal. You got that? You have nothing you need to tell a psychologist.' The words of my mother rang in my head.

"That's me."I stand up, noticing the way her eyes widened slightly when she realized one of her patients wasn't going to be a child this time.

"Yeah yeah lady..A teen in therapy? Why, this is more rare to find than Waldo is, lately."I think, suddenly wanting to share my sarcasm with the person I'll be spending the next hour with.

But hey, that would make my parents look bad, wouldn't it? No sarcastic comments then. My life is so sad.

"Sweetie, would you mind if this child goes before you? He is young and he can't wait so long."She smiles, probably thinking she sounded funny.

What was really funny was the fact my appointment was scheduled before that kid and his mother sitting next to me, whom I almost forgot about.

'You have nothing you need to tell..'

My lips pull into a fake smile.

"No problem."

It wasn't a big deal, I was pretty patient. Did that stop me from fuming on the inside though? Well, it didn't.