Lost, Lost, Lost

"There are a lot of messed up kids here," I explained to my parents and Rahne. "But somehow I feel like I'm messed up too. I'm the only one here who hears things and sees death. I just feel so out of place, even in a crazy house like this." Tears started coming out of my eyes. "And now I have a terrible disease on top of all that. I feel so goddamn selfish for feeling this way though, like I'm only thinking about myself and my troubles." Maybe it was true. I thought it was, at least. But how about Chris and Seth? I've thought about their issues a whole lot, and felt bad and cried over it all. Maybe I wasn't as selfish as I thought. But I sure felt awful anyway. "I'm just... God. I just want to be normal!" I started sobbing, my hands covering my face but not covering all the tears that poured like waterfalls out of my eyes.

"Ren, I'm so sorry, honey. I don't want you to worry or feel awful like you do. You know we don't want for you to ever feel that way," my dad told me, sadness caking his words. "We don't like this, either," he said. "We feel awful just as much as you do, Ren." He put his hand in mine. "I love you, beautiful daughter."

The tears became even worse, but I started feeling a little better and a little worse at the same time, like I was being ripped apart from each side of my body. I hated feeling so out of place and hated feeling like I was ruining the family and worrying my friends. Oh, who was I kidding? My friends didn't give a shit about me, not even Driff, who was pretty much my best friend at the moment. I told her pretty much everything, vented to her and cried to her. She was like my other sister, except she didn't care about me half as much as I cared about her.

Once I had texted Driff after the girl inside of me sent me a movie of me killing myself. I asked her to please, please get me to stop feeling suicidal. Driff didn't really believe me at first, but when I called her crying and feeling so scared, I knew that then she believed me. She told me that I was her best friend and she wouldn't know what she would do if I was dead. I could tell through her texts that she was getting really upset, too. I didn't want to die, or so I thought. I thought it was just that stupid girl that controlled me telling me that I hated myself and that life really wasn't worth living for.

And I believed her, every single word she had said to me. I was consumed by every scene she sent me and everything she persuaded me to believe. She swayed me and all my feelings about myself, my friends and family, the world around me, and everything else you could possibly think of.

"I don't know how to feel anymore," I said with a blank face. And what I said was basically true. If I couldn't feel then I wouldn't feel. Nothing was okay.

My visitors sighed and opened their mouths to say something, but a nurse came around and told them that visiting hours were over. I thought it was stupid how I couldn't talk to them anymore. I mean, I could talk to them on the phone but it wasn't like it was in person. In person you can see their reactions and the feelings welling up inside them through their eyes. Over the phone all you could hear was their voice and sometimes what they were doing. It just wasn't the same.

"Alright, bye Ren. I love you," was pretty much what everyone said to me before they left to go back home, to go back to the place I wanted to be so badly.

"Why are visiting hours so short?" My curiosity had overtaken my voice.

The nurse beside me looked over into my eyes and said, "Because we need to work on your treatment."

I wanted to punch her in the jaw so badly, but I held back. "Thanks," I murmured and stumbled away, taking deep breaths to calm down my anger adrenaline. I hated nurses. I wished they would die.

The girl inside me held onto that for a while. That night, I had a horrible dream.

It was about death.