I Feel Nothing

Lights from the florescent lights shone from the ceiling, illuminating the room I was in. I had my head comfortably rested in the palm of my hand, waiting for a nurse to escort me to where ever I need to go. I watched my mom talk to the nurse at the front desk, and she was still crying as she told the sad tale about how I hurt her. I sighed. I don’t want to be here, this didn’t need to happen. It just makes me more upset. It just gives me more reasons to cut myself.
“Excuse me, Gabrielle? Follow me.” said a short nurse. Her blond hair hanged around her face, and she smiled at me, and I had no energy or motivation to at least smile back at her. I reluctantly stood myself up and followed her.
“Please step inside.” instructed the nurse, and she pointed to a white room with no windows.
I obeyed.
“Please remove your clothes. I have to check you, and make sure you aren’t hiding anything.” She put on some rubber gloves, and I removed my shirt and pants.
“You won’t find anything.” I simply stated.
“It’s just procedure, I’m sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable.”
She checked every inch of my body, I mean every inch. I felt uncomfortable, and vulnerable.
“Thank you for your cooperation, please put our clothes back on, and someone will come in here and talk to you.” She threw her rubber gloves into the garbage. I felt sick to my stomach, but I felt empty. I felt alone, I felt like nothing. I needed to escape this.
I walked over to the garbage, in pursuit to receive an item that will allow me to help me feel alive, nothing. I looked around the room and studied the two brown and faded chairs, and the table, and I noticed a jagged corner on the table. I rolled my sleeve up, and placed my wrist alongside the wood. I took breath in and slid my arm across the jagged edge.
I felt the blood start right after I fell to the ground. I sighed with satisfaction. I was scared what the doctors would think when they walked in on me. I decided though, that if I was going to be locked away in a hospital for cutting, then I should do what I do best one more time.
“Now Gabrielle I was infor-,” He just stared blackly at me for a second. I knew what he saw. He saw a girl, 16 years old, sitting on the floor with a deep cut in her wrist and blood all over her arm and shirt. I just stared back, and as I was looking at him I noticed his name was Dr. Morre, as stated on his name tag.
‘Stand up, stand up now.” He ordered. “Come with me” He took my un-injured arm and pulled me down the hallway into a small medical room. I looked around and saw a computer with an unfinished game of solitaire showing on the screen. Paper work was on a desk and the light was bright and clear in his room. He wrapped a bandage around my cut, and one tightly above it. He then pulled out a needle.
“I need to give you a tetanus shot.” He then tapped the needle and began to inject it into my arm. I felt a sharp pinch and then a relief. I wanted until he was done to speak.
“I’m sorry.” I told him, as he cleaned my arm off.
“You would’ve done it if you were sorry.” He just looked into my eyes.
“Okay.” I threw attitude into that, to make him mad.
“Now come with me. Because of this episode of self injury, you’ll be placed in a room of confinement and quiet for 15 minutes.” We walked down the cold halls for a minute and he opened a door.
I was surprised by the blandness of this room, the simplicity. White padding covered the walls; a padded floor was included as well; they looked dirty. I walked inside and he threw a hospital robe at me.
“Please put this on, and give me the clothing you’re now wearing.” He turned his ack, and I quickly changed into the robe he gave me. I tied each string so the robe fit tightly to my body. I thought it would hide the scars I had along my torso and sides. Holes on the sides of the robe revealed only a couple of the memories I left on my body.
“Here,” and I handed him my clothes in a giant clump.
“I see you’ve been doing this awhile,” as he examined my arms and sides.
“Yes” I simply stated.
“This may sound weird but I need to look at your fingernails.” And he took the palms of my hands.
“I’ll be back in a second. You moving from this spot will only add to the consequence of you inflicting harm upon yourself. So please stay” He looked at me with a stern look, with one eye forward and his eyebrow rose. It added many wrinkles to his forehead.
I stayed.
He retuned with a small metal device in his hand. It was a nail clipper, and then he pulled out something I didn’t see, a nail file.
“I need to cut and file your nails, since I cannot trust you to do it yourself.
“Why?” I asked
“Because I’ve seen this before, it’s not part of the policy for the hospital, but I know kids who have done this. They cut themselves during there time in the hospital with there fingernails. So I need to cut and file your nails regularly, until can trust you to do it yourself, but I might not.” Then he took my hands and took his time making sure my nails were the dullest nails ever. I thought I didn’t have any at the end, they were so small.
“Now stay in here, I’ll send someone to take you to your room. From now on, you’ll wake up early in the morning, have breakfast, and then report to the counseling session in the small café. You will talk to one of our counselors, probably with the rest of the group of kids who deal with the same type of problem you deal with. You will receive a paper listing what times and were you have to be the rest of the day.”
“Okay” I said while picking at strands of my hair. I was pulling and twisting then ends to keep me occupied.
He left the room, and I was alone in a hospital gown, with a fresh cut on my arm. I sat waiting, waiting for that one person to take me to my room, so I can be alone and sleep. I don’t want to be awake anymore. I don’t want to live anymore.
I sighed.
“Hello?” said a women’s voice with three knocks following after as the door quietly swung open. I looked up and saw a blonde nurse. She was pretty; her eyes were a bright blue with some hazel in the middle. Her cheekbones stood highly on her face and added a sculpted look, almost like a statue. I wonder why she’s a nurse when she could be making millions as a model.
“Hello” I said bashfully, because I was afraid she’d see my cut. I had my hand strategically placed over it.
“Gabrielle, please follow me to your room, if you may.” Her voice sounded angelic and soft. I wish Dr. Morre was as nice as her.
“Okay” and I found myself walking with her through the cold halls of the hospital. We were walking and I noticed many kids walking around with the same pained look. Each had a distant look in their eyes.
“My name is Michelle” She said, and looked down at me with a warm smile.
“You can call me Gabby, instead of Gabrielle” and I tried to add warmth to the smile that I perfectly knew was fake.
“This is your room.” And she gestured to a door with the number E102 hanging over it.
“Thanks” and I walked into the room. It wasn’t spacious or anything, but it had some furniture in it. A standard hospital bed, with a table and lamp next to hit, two chairs sat sitting in the west side of the room facing the bed. A cross was hanging on the wall, and I laughed. I don’t believe, never will, ever since I was little.
The walls were an ugly shade of blue. It looked faded and worn. I felt a hand clasp the back of my shoulder.
“You can sleep if you wish; I’ll be here to wake you up in the morning to take you down to your breakfast and counseling. Basically I’m your tour guide until you can figure everything out.” She laughed and I walked over to the bed. I pulled the white and pale green blankets off of the bed and got in. I switched off the lamp and thought.
I wonder what my mom is doing right now. She’s probably happy I’m not there to make her life stressful. She probably was just putting on an act with the crying to make it think that she cares when she really doesn’t.
I looked at the clock on the nightstand, and it read 9:23 P.M. I yawned, and decided that sleep could help me feel better. But sleep always brings back the memories I try to forget in the form of dreams making me relive my life over and over.
I closed my eyes.