Same Disclaimer. Thanks to the usual suspects. This story wouldn't be half of what it is if it weren't for them. Thanks again guys. ILY.
I hated this place.
I really hated this place.
I fucking hated this place with the fire of a thousand suns.
I know, very dramatic of me, but it was the truth. I knew I was here for a good reason. I needed help, and I freely admitted that to Carlisle when he picked me up that day at Garrett's house. I admitted to him that I had stopped taking my meds and that I had been drinking heavily and getting high. The look he gave me was one I would never forget. He looked so disappointed in me as he closed his eyes and sighed loudly.
But just because I was here voluntarily didn't mean I couldn't hate it, because believe me, I did. I couldn't stand having someone tell me when to wake up, which by the way was six o'clock in the morning every single fucking day. We didn't get to sleep in on the weekends or when we had trouble falling asleep the night before, which tended to happen a lot due to the screamers that resided here.
I definitely didn't like being told I could have only this or that to eat for the day. What if I wanted something else? What if I wanted to call in some Chinese food or a pizza? The food was shitty enough as it was, but not giving me a choice in the matter sucked even worse.
I didn't like someone passing out medicine to me in little plastic cups and standing over me like a hawk to make sure I took it. I knew some people in here are here due to suicide attempts, but believe me, I'm not that fucked up. I just wanted a little privacy sometimes and that definitely wasn't happening here.
Most of all I fucking hated that I couldn't talk to Bella any time I wanted to. I missed being able to pick up the phone and hear her voice. I missed being able to tell her I loved her every night before she fell asleep. I just missed her period.
She'd only been to see me one time and while I loved seeing her, I hated the way she looked at me. I could see the pity written all over her face. I knew I had fucked up in a major way, but I hated seeing the disappointment on her face and I hated her seeing me here, surrounded by all these crazy people.
I actually made Carlisle promise me the last time he was here that he wouldn't bring her back. I explained to him that I didn't want her here, surrounded by all this, even if it was for only a short hour on Sundays. He finally consented and told me that he would make something up about only family being allowed because she would sure as hell put up a damn fight.
I walked down the stale, white hallway headed toward the common room where we gathered for weekly family visits. Another thing I hated was that we weren't trusted enough to meet with our family in our own rooms. We had to do it out in the open with everyone around.
I spotted Carlisle sitting at a small table in the corner and swiftly made my way over to him. He stood when he saw me approaching and pulled me into a tight hug.
"Good to see you, son," he said as we both sat down. He pushed a small container toward me and I lifted the lid and smiled widely. It was Bella's chocolate chip cookies.
"How'd she take it?" I asked him as I took a bite of one of the cookies.
"She was pretty upset at first, but I told her that they were only allowing family to visit you for now. I didn't tell her that she could never visit you because I am hoping you'll change your mind about that part," he said as he looked at me sadly.
"I'm not gonna change my mind," I said, harshly. "I don't want her here around this shit. It's not that I don't want to see her, it's just that I hate for her to see me like this. I wanna get better before I see her again." After a few minutes of silence, Carlisle finally spoke again.
"How are you sleeping at night?" he asked me. The last time Carlisle was here I told him I couldn't sleep because of all the people screaming during the night. Really, I couldn't sleep because the nightmares were back.
Every night when I fell asleep, I found myself back in my old house in Chicago. I sat on the floor with blood covering my hands. My mother laid beside me and my father across from me, both with gunshot wounds to the head. I would scream and scream, but no one could hear me. When I wake up in the mornings my voice is hoarse. I had a feeling that I was one of the screamers.
"It's getting better," I said, lying to him. I knew that if I didn't lie to him, he'd go back home and tell Esme, and then I'd have yet another person worrying about me.
We shared the bowl of cookies and talked a little more about nothing of importance. All too soon the hour was up and Carlisle hugged me again promising me that Esme would see me next week. Since only one visitor at a time was allowed, another stupid rule of this place, they decided they would trade off weeks.
"Can you just tell her I love her, please?" I told him before he walked away. I didn't need to explain to him who I meant. I'd had this request every single time before he left. I knew I didn't need to remind him, but I still did it anyway. He nodded sadly at me and gave me one final hug before leaving me here, all alone again.
I sat up in the middle of the small twin bed, sweat drenching my entire body. I tried to calm my breathing as I focused on my surroundings. I wasn't there. They weren't here.
I'd had the dream again. Every night it always ended the same way. I would be sitting on the floor screaming my head off for someone to help me, but no one would come. I had no idea if this was some sort of repressed memory or what. I didn't remember screaming or anything, but I was only ten years old.
I laid back down on the bed and tried to fall asleep again. After tossing and turning for a few minutes, I realized it was useless. I knew what I wanted. I knew what I needed.
I needed Bella.