I don't like hospitals. I've spent too much time in psychiatric wards, to be honest. If I'm injured, they're okay. But it's not hard to guess why Danny's here, and I know where I'm going the moment Kyle's with him. I'm sure Dr. Campbell will be so pleased to see me again.
I shove Kyle off in the direction of the doctor that left the message on his phone and head upstairs. They tell me to sit in the waiting room. I sit for a while, I pace, I lean against the wall, I bang my head on it. The woman on the psych ward reception watches me worriedly as she calls someone, glancing at me while she talks. I sit back down, clicking my fingers and shaking my legs, staring at the floor until finally Campbell comes in and sits next to me.
"Hi, Damien," he says softly, "what's wrong?"
"Everything. Life," I shrug, not taking my eyes off the grey lino beneath my feet.
"Wanna come down to my office and talk about it? I've got a free hour," he stands up and I follow him down the corridor. He sits me down in the chair opposite his desk - he knows I fucking hate that couch. It's bad enough I have to open up to someone who'll only prescribe me antidepressants - I don't wanna be patronized too. He asks me about my drug problems and the self harm and all that shit, eventually getting to what I think is wrong with life.
"So, what's wrong with life?"
"Phil came back. He ran away from his parents and came to see me. I had all of a week with him before his parents came and took him back," I talk to his hands. He's holding them in front of him, his fingers intertwined. Sometimes he wears a wedding ring. Sometimes it's gone. Today, it's gone again. I don't understand why the guy's a psychiatrist when he's got so much of his own shit to deal with. He nods, urging me to continue. "I didn't even get to say goodbye. That bastard Kyle cornered me after school and held me up. I might've been there for Phil if it hadn't been for him." I pick up his name plaque and turn it in my fingers, watching the light reflect off the metal front. Frank K Campbell.
"What happened after that?"
"I went to Kyle's and nearly screamed the place down. I would've killed him if he had come out of the house. And then the anger... just kinda went. Vanished. I wondered what the point was and... and..." I bite my lip. It's almost embarrassing to admit all the ways I'd thought about killing myself in the few moments between me shutting up and me hitting the ground.
"Want to talk about what you were thinking?"
"I wasn't," I lie. He nods, seeing right through it. I glance up at him, at his kindly blue eyes and sigh, thumping my head down on his desk, still playing with that name plaque. "I'm not sure if I'm more embarrassed that I started thinking like that again, or if it was Kyle that stopped me from doing it," I sigh.
"Kyle stopped you from doing anything?"
"The prick gave me a beer and took me inside. Made me stay the night. Well, he didn't make me stay, but I was hardly gonna argue, was I? You know what I'm like when I get like that. I kind of just fell asleep on his couch."
The conclusion he comes to is that he should put me on Citalopram again and keep me in until the adverse effects of it wear off. I read about it online last time I was on it. I can confirm that it makes you more suicidal and aggressive. Last time they made the mistake of not keeping me in. Well, they kept me in after I pushed my mom down the stairs and tried to kill myself again. Yeah... that wasn't so much fun.
He calls my mom to let her know about this and she comes straight over, crying and fussing over me. I mumble at her to fuck off and push her away when she tries to hug me, but I can't look at her when she's like this. It just makes me feel like such a shitty son. Which I am, I guess.
Campbell goes downstairs to get me some pills and leaves me in his office with my mom. I don't say anything to her and she doesn't say much to me, either. She asks me why I let Phil control my life so much and I snap at her that he doesn't. Yeah, she shuts up after that.
"C'mon, Damien," Campbell opens the door and beckons me to follow. He sits me on the edge of a bed in the psych ward and hands me a plastic cup of water and my first pill. I look at it for a while and both he and my mom urge me to take it. After a moment's hesitation, I do, and they smile, even though they know that within the next half hour, I'll be shaking and feeling like I've just taken a bad ecstasy pill.
I glance around the ward and see the two people I really didn't want to see. I groan and lie down on my side, facing away from them, hoping they didn't notice me. Mom sits on the edge of the bed and rubs my back gently, looking up and thanking Campbell as he walks off. Yeah, thanks for giving me the worst pills in the world and putting me on the same ward as Danny. Thanks so fucking much.