Crazy
Chapter 21
Chapter 21: Tess
Being in this hospital, is totally fucking torturous. My life, which was pretty exciting for a while, has transformed back into the boring, old, life that I had before.
All my time here is spent blankly staring at the walls. I would talk to my roommate, Cara, but she seems so, well, weird. She also reminds me of who I was before I was introduced to the wonderful world of drugs.
Yeah, I’ll admit it: drugs have changed me a lot, a whole lot, actually. The main difference though, between my own real life story, and the movies you see and books you read about stoners, is that usually in those stories, the drugs change the characters for the worse; I’ve only changed for the better. Like, I used to be this bored, gross, grungy, semi-emo girl. Now I’m a exciting, gorgeous, fun, gangsta woman.
Sitting here, staring at the walls, is boring, of course, but it’s also quite peaceful in a way, I guess. Sadly, though, the silence is broken by Cara’s annoying voice.
“What are you here for?” she asks me, giving me a dirty look.
“Why do you care?” I ask, angrily, in reply.
“I’m just wondering,” she tells me, looking like she’s about to cry.
“Okay. Okay. Okay.”
I feel like hugging her, but I don’t. I feel like making her feel better, but I don’t. She seems too…annoying? I guess that’s the right word for it…
We’re forced to go to the cafeteria to eat breakfast. Yes, we’re being forced to go. The doctors have to make sure we go and eat because they’re afraid of their patients being anorexic. Look, I’m not crazy like that…I’m actually pretty normal. Have you seen the statistics of how many people do drugs these days? I don’t even do it as much as a lot of people my age do…
I eat and eat and eat and eat and eat. The food here tastes horrible. It makes me want to vomit.
We’re eating pancakes and bacon. What if I was vegetarian…?
I eat with Cara, and these other girls in our group thing. Their names are Lauren, and Kate, I think.
I watch them as they eat. They all eat except Lauren who just keeps picking at her food.
“Lauren you have to eat something,” the doctor tells her.
“I’m not hungry,” she replies. “And my name’s not Lauren, it’s Lola.”
She frowns, and starts eating, but only because they keep bugging her to.
Kate keeps yelling and cursing at everyone. I suppose she’s the real crazy one. I even heard she tried killing someone or something…weird…
I’m in therapy now with my counselor. Her name is Doctor. Andrews.
“Let’s talk!” she says, all giggly.
I stare at the walls for about fifteen minutes, not wanting to say anything. I’m too…angry.
“What’s wrong?” she finally asks me after fifteen minutes of silence.
“I don’t want to fucking be here!” I yell.
I hate it. I’m starting to become Kate, with my screaming and swearing and everything, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.
She looks like she’s about to cry.
“Why?” she asks me, tears forming in her pretty blue eyes. “What’s wrong? You don’t like me?”
“No,” I reply. “No. No. No. It’s not that…”
“What is it then?”
“I miss them.”
“Who’s them?”
“The drugs”
She starts asking me more and more questions, about my social life and stuff. I’m reluctant to answer them, but I do anyway.
After that, I go to lunch, and after lunch, I go to group therapy. It’s torturous, basically. The boredom is just something I can not stand any longer.
Basically, all we do in group is sit around and talk and bitch and whine and moan about our problems. It’s me, Cara, “Lola” and Kate…that’s it.
Doctor. Coburn is the doctor who runs our group sessions. She’s a doctor who came here all the way from Ireland.
“So,” she says in her Irish accent. “Today we’re going to play a getting to know each other activity. Then, we’ll start talking about our problems.”
“I’m Cara,” Cara starts off. “I like black cats, the smell of sweet fresh blood, and the color black. I’m here because I…I tried killing myself”.
She laughs, like it’s a joke.
We go around the circle. Lauren or should I say Lola, goes next.
“I’m Lola,” she begins. “I like Ke$ha, cheerleading, and 90’s fashion.”
“Your name’s Lauren…” Doctor Coburn replies. “Anyway, why are you here, Lauren?”
“Lola. Get it right. And I’m here because, I don’t know...because I starved myself, I guess? I used to binge and purge, too.”
Next person goes. It’s not me, thank God, it’s Kate.
“I’m Kate,” she tells us. “I like punk rock, punk fashion and if the rumors are true, I also like killing random innocent people. You all know why I’m here.”
“You like punk?” Cara asks, all excitedly. “I can tell we’ll get along, great!!!”
Kate rolls her eyes.
I guess I’m not the only one that thinks Cara is an annoying little emo bitch.
Then, I realize…it’s my turn.
“Um…” I say. “I’m Tess. I like…drugs, drugs, and more drugs. I’m here because of drugs.”
“We get it,” Kate replies, rudely.
I can tell she doesn’t really mean to be rude though.
After dinner, we get free time. Free time with each other. It’s not really too free. It’s just as boring as anything else here. We’re not allowed to do anything exciting. Plus, even if we were, we all hate each other.
I just sit down on the couch, watching the TV. It’s Disney Channel. I’m surprised they let us watch it here. I watch TV, while picking at my finger nails.
It’s time for bed. I fall right asleep, hoping I’ll somehow wake up from this nightmare.
Being in this hospital, is totally fucking torturous. My life, which was pretty exciting for a while, has transformed back into the boring, old, life that I had before.
All my time here is spent blankly staring at the walls. I would talk to my roommate, Cara, but she seems so, well, weird. She also reminds me of who I was before I was introduced to the wonderful world of drugs.
Yeah, I’ll admit it: drugs have changed me a lot, a whole lot, actually. The main difference though, between my own real life story, and the movies you see and books you read about stoners, is that usually in those stories, the drugs change the characters for the worse; I’ve only changed for the better. Like, I used to be this bored, gross, grungy, semi-emo girl. Now I’m a exciting, gorgeous, fun, gangsta woman.
Sitting here, staring at the walls, is boring, of course, but it’s also quite peaceful in a way, I guess. Sadly, though, the silence is broken by Cara’s annoying voice.
“What are you here for?” she asks me, giving me a dirty look.
“Why do you care?” I ask, angrily, in reply.
“I’m just wondering,” she tells me, looking like she’s about to cry.
“Okay. Okay. Okay.”
I feel like hugging her, but I don’t. I feel like making her feel better, but I don’t. She seems too…annoying? I guess that’s the right word for it…
We’re forced to go to the cafeteria to eat breakfast. Yes, we’re being forced to go. The doctors have to make sure we go and eat because they’re afraid of their patients being anorexic. Look, I’m not crazy like that…I’m actually pretty normal. Have you seen the statistics of how many people do drugs these days? I don’t even do it as much as a lot of people my age do…
I eat and eat and eat and eat and eat. The food here tastes horrible. It makes me want to vomit.
We’re eating pancakes and bacon. What if I was vegetarian…?
I eat with Cara, and these other girls in our group thing. Their names are Lauren, and Kate, I think.
I watch them as they eat. They all eat except Lauren who just keeps picking at her food.
“Lauren you have to eat something,” the doctor tells her.
“I’m not hungry,” she replies. “And my name’s not Lauren, it’s Lola.”
She frowns, and starts eating, but only because they keep bugging her to.
Kate keeps yelling and cursing at everyone. I suppose she’s the real crazy one. I even heard she tried killing someone or something…weird…
I’m in therapy now with my counselor. Her name is Doctor. Andrews.
“Let’s talk!” she says, all giggly.
I stare at the walls for about fifteen minutes, not wanting to say anything. I’m too…angry.
“What’s wrong?” she finally asks me after fifteen minutes of silence.
“I don’t want to fucking be here!” I yell.
I hate it. I’m starting to become Kate, with my screaming and swearing and everything, and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.
She looks like she’s about to cry.
“Why?” she asks me, tears forming in her pretty blue eyes. “What’s wrong? You don’t like me?”
“No,” I reply. “No. No. No. It’s not that…”
“What is it then?”
“I miss them.”
“Who’s them?”
“The drugs”
She starts asking me more and more questions, about my social life and stuff. I’m reluctant to answer them, but I do anyway.
After that, I go to lunch, and after lunch, I go to group therapy. It’s torturous, basically. The boredom is just something I can not stand any longer.
Basically, all we do in group is sit around and talk and bitch and whine and moan about our problems. It’s me, Cara, “Lola” and Kate…that’s it.
Doctor. Coburn is the doctor who runs our group sessions. She’s a doctor who came here all the way from Ireland.
“So,” she says in her Irish accent. “Today we’re going to play a getting to know each other activity. Then, we’ll start talking about our problems.”
“I’m Cara,” Cara starts off. “I like black cats, the smell of sweet fresh blood, and the color black. I’m here because I…I tried killing myself”.
She laughs, like it’s a joke.
We go around the circle. Lauren or should I say Lola, goes next.
“I’m Lola,” she begins. “I like Ke$ha, cheerleading, and 90’s fashion.”
“Your name’s Lauren…” Doctor Coburn replies. “Anyway, why are you here, Lauren?”
“Lola. Get it right. And I’m here because, I don’t know...because I starved myself, I guess? I used to binge and purge, too.”
Next person goes. It’s not me, thank God, it’s Kate.
“I’m Kate,” she tells us. “I like punk rock, punk fashion and if the rumors are true, I also like killing random innocent people. You all know why I’m here.”
“You like punk?” Cara asks, all excitedly. “I can tell we’ll get along, great!!!”
Kate rolls her eyes.
I guess I’m not the only one that thinks Cara is an annoying little emo bitch.
Then, I realize…it’s my turn.
“Um…” I say. “I’m Tess. I like…drugs, drugs, and more drugs. I’m here because of drugs.”
“We get it,” Kate replies, rudely.
I can tell she doesn’t really mean to be rude though.
After dinner, we get free time. Free time with each other. It’s not really too free. It’s just as boring as anything else here. We’re not allowed to do anything exciting. Plus, even if we were, we all hate each other.
I just sit down on the couch, watching the TV. It’s Disney Channel. I’m surprised they let us watch it here. I watch TV, while picking at my finger nails.
It’s time for bed. I fall right asleep, hoping I’ll somehow wake up from this nightmare.