My mom told me that Marie knew where I was. She had told Will for me. I guess I didn’t mention that Marie was also an amazing friend who was there for me, but I didn’t open up to her entirely.
I don’t think she knew all of this was really going to happen, and I don’t blame her. At the time, if I saw me, I wouldn’t think it was real, either. I just seemed like a normal 13 year old. I didn’t seem depressed or suicidal. I just seemed me.
I had texted Will, just to say hi. He had acted like he didn’t know where I was so I wouldn’t get upset with Marie. I didn’t mind that he knew. In fact, I thought he should know if anyone. He was the one who kept me out of here for a while longer.
We didn’t really talk much about what I was thinking and feeling, as my parents were reading over my shoulder. I didn’t want to get into that. They would just get upset that I was telling Will stuff, and not them.
I had found out that Marie and Will would be allowed to visit me. That was the best news I had gotten in a long time. I couldn’t wait to see them, though it would be awkward because the sitter has to be with me at all times. I was willing to get over it to see my best friends, though.
I was scared of how they would react. I didn’t know if they would hug me, or ignore me, or slap me upside the head. This made me so incredibly anxious. I couldn’t have more people reject me. I couldn’t take the pain.
I continued texting Will, telling him about he could visit one day. We had decided that they could come after school the next day. I couldn’t wait. Finally something good would be happening. I’ve waited so long for this moment.
“Melissa... Can we please have your phone?” my parents asked.
“Why?” I questioned. I wanted to talk to Will.
“The psychiatrist here said you shouldn’t have any contact with the outside world for a bit..” they hesitantly answered. That crushed me. The one thing I was looking forward to was seeing Marie and Will. And they just took that away from me.
I went off on them. I said that he was stupid, and that they should let me have my phone so I can talk to my friends. I tried as hard as I possibly could to get my phone back, and hopefully the visit. But they wouldn’t give in.
They didn’t look into my perspective to see why I wanted my phone, and why I wanted them to visit me. So I could try to be happy. I was going to try to be happy for them, but they had just taken it away.
I felt betrayed. They said that they would do anything to get me better, but they just took away the only opportunity for me to. The psychiatrist said that secluding me would make me better. Well, he was wrong.
What happened when I was isolated in my room before? I would do terrible things. I would cut, hit, take pills, and try to choke myself. I guess they just wanted all of that again. I didn’t mind anymore. Once I had calmed down, I remembered that I was going to kill myself some way, no matter how long it took. Someway, I would end up dead.
Living was not an option for me. I didn’t want to contaminate the air with my awfulness. We didn’t need more people getting ugly.
That’s what people had said, anyways. They said not to look at me, they might catch my hideousness. I believed it, too. I tried to stay away from people because of it. I didn’t want to be the blame for other grotesque looking creatures walking around. I was just doing everyone a favor. They should be thanking me instead of being rude. Oh well, their loss.