Would You Love Me, Would You Hold Me?

***Joanna's POV***

Another stupid fucking meeting. Another hour wasted talking about my "feelings" and what's going through my head currently.

If only I actually told the truth about what goes on through my head...I'd probably be sent to an asylum and be locked in there until the day I die.

I glanced around the room, bored out of my head already. I heard the "leader" of our meeting group welcome someone, and I glanced over at the new poor, hopeless prisoner member. I smirked.

He had long black hair that touched his shoulders barely, a blue beanie hat sitting on the top of his head. I noticed a stud pierced on both sides of his nose. He was dressed in a pair of skinny jeans, and a black hoodie, which I'm assuming had a t-shirt on underneath it. He was cute, honestly; but he looked like he was a scared, lost little puppy.

He sat down in the chair next to mine and I looked him up and down. He turned his head and our eyes met, a small smile gracing his features. I smiled back.

"I'm Joanna." I held my hand out for him to shake, my smile twisting into a smirk.

"N-Nick." I laughed inside at how nervous he was, and how his hand was a little jittery when he shook mine.

"We just met, but I feel like you and I are gonna get along just fine here." I smiled again. He raised his eyebrow slightly, a smile still on his face. "Oh really?"

"Yeah," I smirked and placed my hands in my lap. "We both seem like we're pretty fucked up."

I knew I had caught him by surprise with that by the look on his face. He looked so confused, and slightly scared at the same time. My smirk grew and I laughed when he stuttered again. "U-Ummm..."

"And I mean that in the most loving way, dear." He blinked and stared at me. I nodded my head once and smiled again. I knew I was probably freaking him out, but that kind of was my objective. I usually scare everyone I first meet, anyways. I can't help it.

He looked away, but I could see on his face that he was thinking and trying to figure out what the hell I meant by that. I just chuckled, turning my attention to the "leader" when she started speaking.

"Okay guys, we have a new member in our meeting today. Everyone, please welcome Nicholas." Everyone but me said, "Hi, Nicholas." in a chorus, and I laughed out loud at how embarrassed and annoyed he looked by that.

"Way to humiliate the shit out of him." I snorted. I saw Nick turn his head again, and smile at me out of the corner of my eye.

"Joanna, please keep the attitude to a minimum today." Lisa sighed, shaking her head at me.

"Mmm-hm." I smiled innocently at her just to get under her skin. "Anyways, Nicholas, tell us why you're here." She smiled at him, and I could tell he was dreading this part.

"Well, um...I tried to kill myself." He leaned back in his chair and shrugged slightly. "What more is there?"

"There's plenty more, hon;" I rolled my eyes at how Lisa was now using her "sympathetic" voice. "why did you try to kill yourself?"

"My life went to shit." He mumbled. I smirked at him. I kinda liked this kid already.

"How?" She asked.

"Well...I've dealt with depression for a few years now, but recently my wife of 4 years and I separated, and then after that everything else just seemed to come crashing down, and I couldn't handle it." I was kind of surprised when he mentioned "wife of 4 years". He looked like he was 18. If that.

"How did you try to kill yourself?" She asked quietly.

"What, you want to make him relive that? Are you fucking stupid?" I laughed at Lisa and her little act. She was here because it was a job, For money. She didn't really give a shit about any of us, and it pissed me off to no end when she would act like she cared and was interested about our problems.

"Joanna, what did I say earlier?" She sighed. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave and go back to your room."

"Trust me when I say it's fine by me." I got up and walked out of the room, a guard standing outside of the door like usual. I made sure to slam the door behind me, just for added effect. As I was walked to my room, and we went past the front desk, the woman who's always there laughed when she saw me. "Kicked out of the meeting again, Joanna?"

"What else is new." I snorted, continuing my walk. I reached the door that said "125" and pushed it open, the guard closing it behind me. I flopped down onto my bed and sighed.

I've been in this hell, in and out for the past year of my life. The first 2 times I came, I only had to stay a month. The third time, 2 months. Now it's my fourth time, and they've upped it to four months. All thanks to my family, who don't bother to try and help me themselves, or talk to me, or try to understand why I don't want to live; no, they just say "fuck it" and throw me in a mental hospital so the "professionals" can help me.

You'd think those dumbasses would realize that if I keep having to come back here, then no one can help me. Not even so called "professionals".

I'm one of the most notorious people here. A lot of the other patients avoided me, because they know of my background here and how I act. My so called friends abandoned me the second time I was sent here. My family wouldn't come visit me because they say they can't. Bullshit. I bet they could if they really tried.

But I know they don't want to try. Who would want to try anything for someone like me?

But don't get it twisted when I say that; I'm not one of those people who's all, "Oh poor, poor me, life is so hard and I just can't take it anymore". I'm not pathetic. I never meant to be this way. And I sure as hell never said I wanted to be this way. But I've been like this since I was a fucking preteen. I couldn't help it, and I still can't to this day. I was a horrible kid, I was an even worse teenager. I put my family through hell. I put myself through hell.

I guess this is their way of getting back at me, because now they're putting me in hell.

***

I carried my tray of dinner over to my usual table I sit at, facing a TV. I glared at one of the "supervisors" watching over all of us so that we didn't try to strangle ourselves with a spaghetti noodle before taking a sip of my water and picking up the plastic spoon, digging into the bland macaroni and cheese I was very accustomed to by now. I glanced around the hospital cafeteria, smirking a little when I noticed Nick getting his own dinner. He glanced over at me and I waved my fingers at him, making him crack a smile. After he'd gotten his food, he hesitantly walked towards me, but I smiled and moved my tray out of the middle of the table, signaling he could sit down on the other side with me.

He was the only one who seemed alright in this place, so I figured I could at least be a little nice to him.

"Hi," He smiled, sitting down.

"Feel like you're in high school again?" I chuckled. He let out a quiet laugh and nodded. "Exactly."

"So how long are you here for?" I asked casually. He sighed a little. "2 months."

"First time?" He nodded, and I raised my eyebrow. "I only got a month the first two times I was here." He looked at me. "First two times...?"

"I practically live here." I snorted, eating more of my macaroni. He frowned slightly. "How long have you...?"

"In and out of here for the past year. It's my fourth time here, and now they're keeping me for four months. I've got three more months to go." He looked shocked, but I just chewed my food and stared at him, waiting for him to say something.

"4 times?" He whispered. I nodded, smiling. "I'm known as the "bad girl" here." I laughed. "But I think it's because I'm the only one in this joint that isn't some pussy crying over how horrible my life is and how hard it is to be me," He continued to stare at me, now looking nervous. "Just a guess, though."

"O-Oh..." He kept his eyes on his food now, obviously uncomfortable.

"So, you were married?" I asked. He looked up again, frowning. "Yeah, I was." I took a bite of the roll that came with my dinner and looked over his face for a minute before speaking. "You look like a baby." He scoffed and rolled his eyes, making me laugh. "Haven't heard that a million times before."

"You have a baby face."

"Once again," He sighed, smiling a little when I laughed again. "haven't heard that before."

"How old?"

"23, believe it or not." I nodded. "Thought you were like, a junior in high school." I took a sip of my water and he narrowed his eyes at me, smiling while doing it to show he was just being playful.

"I'm the same age." He smiled and nodded, eating more. "And you were married for..."

"4 years." He finished for me.

"You got married at 19?" I was a little surprised, honestly. He nodded. "Stupid, right?"

"Hey," I put my hands up. "who am I to say it was stupid or not? If someone wants to get married at frickin' 16, I say let 'em. That's their deal, not mine."

"You're the first one who didn't agree with me when I asked that." He mumbled, sounding slightly amused. "I've gotten lectures over it, after asking someone if it was stupid."

"Well, some people are fucking stupid and don't know when to just give a simple "yes" or "no" answer. I could ask someone which is the best brand of orange soda, and I'd probably get some dumbfuck who would give me a whole background story on how orange soda was invented instead of if Fanta or Sunkist is better." He laughed and nodded. "That's just how people are today."

"True that," He mumbled. I glanced down at his arm, that was now not covered by a hoodie's sleeve, and saw he had tattoos.

"What's that," I stated more than asked through my mouthful of bread, as I pointed to the tattoo on his arm.

"That would be a tree." He stated slowly, and in a voice that made it sound like he was talking to a 2 year old. i looked at him and he laughed.

"Really? A hur hur hur!" I asked in a voice that sounded similar to Patrick Star's from Spongebob. He started laughing harder and I smiled. It felt good to make someone happy. "It looks cool. Creepy lookin'." He came down from his laughter and smiled. "Thanks." Suddenly he reached over and poked the tattoo on the inside of my lower arm. "What's that?" He grinned, copying me.

"That would be a tattoo of a gun." I laughed, taking the last bite of my food before wiping my mouth and throwing the napkin on the tray.

"What's it mean?" He asked curiously. I shrugged. "I dunno, I got it because I want to shoot everybody in here?" He blinked, going back to looking nervous. I laughed, shaking my head. "I just like guns. I personally think they're pretty."

"You think they're pretty...?" He asked slowly, pushing his own tray away from himself. I nodded, smiling. He nodded his head slowly too. "I know, I'm fucked up when I think a weapon that could kill someone is pretty."

"I wouldn't say that..."

"But you think that." I stated, getting up and grabbing my tray. "Come on," I walked over to the garbage disposal area thing, dumping whatever into the garbage can before setting my tray on a stack of other used trays. I tried not to laugh as I saw Nick clumsily trying to catch up with me, tripping over the leg of the chair he was just sitting in.

"Ohhh boy." I said to myself when he practically ran over to where I was waiting for him, dumping his tray and then following me to the "lounge" area. I sat down on one of the love seats, him following suit. "So, tell me more about yourself." I said, turning and kicking my legs up onto the couch and putting them over his lap, startling him. I leaned against the arm on the chair and crossed my arms over my chest, smirking and staring at him.

"Well, uhh...I'm in a band. That's probably the most exciting thing about me." He chuckled, leaning back into the couch. "Really?" He nodded. "We're called Get Scared." I smiled. "Sick name. I like it." He thanked me. "What kind of music?"

"Rock. Or, as other people would say, "Alternative-metalcore-screamo-hardcore-whatever"." I laughed. "People seriously need to lay off of the genres. I'm surprised there's not one called, "Scary Scream-y Music That's Kinda Poppy At The Same Time But Has A Super Awesome Heavy Metal Breakdown In It Too"." He laughed, nodding. "I know, right?!"

We talked about anything and everything for the rest of the night, until we were told to haul our asses back to our rooms. I found myself actually being nice for a change, and being...happy.

...I don't know if I like this.