Ballad of Mona Lisa
I got so sick of being on my own, now the devil won't leave me alone.
[Lisa's P.O.V.]
I woke up in a white room that was blinding me with the brightness. I went to go move my arm but felt sudden restraint on my muscles. I turned my burning eyes away from the light to see what was holding my back and it was a straight jacket. I started to panic and try to flail my arms, but it was no use. For once Andrew was telling the truth. I was in the psych ward! Oh my god I can't believe he did this to me!
This was all such a shock to my system. The man I loved was dead. The man who "loved me" pretty much had me sent to the psych ward. I frantically searched the room to see if anyone was around me, and I realized the room was even emptier then the regular hospital room. No chairs no TV, only machines that were sustaining my existence that were locked up. I felt very groggy and dazed. I thought it might have something to with the fact I just woke up, but then I realized I had some kind of IV in my arm. Holy shit they're drugging me. I never expected my life to get to this point. Drugged in a hospital because I'm up for the murder of my best friend. I heard the door crack open, and I slowly turned my head to see who was entering. It was Andrew of course. Just seeing him made my blood boil.
"These people here are all push overs." He said strolling in as if he owned the fucking place.
"I just convinced them to let me see you just by saying I really needed to see you. Which used to be true, but now not so much." He said walking over to the window. I turned my head slowly to find him, but the drugs made me feel dizzy as I did it.
"How does it feel? Not to be wanted, or needed, by anyone around you Lisa? How does it feel to be hated by everyone you love? " He said turning back and looking at me with a satisfied smug look. Normally I would have felt some kind of emotion,or had some kind of reaction to his statement, but now I felt nothing.
"Nobody wants a god damn thing to do with you. The only reason I came here was to say goodbye. I'm moving to Jersey with Pete. Oh and to tell you your mom moved to Connecticut." He said walking over to me and standing at the foot of my bed.
"Yeah when a reporter asked her how her daughter was doing in the hospital she said I don't have a daughter. I thought it was pretty harsh what about you?" He said trying to provoke a reaction out of me,but I had no emotions to react off of. I heard what he was saying, and it would have hurt 6-7 months ago, but now it seemed like the usual. Like something that was expected to happen to me.
"You have nothing anymore Lisa. You fucked everything up." He said leaning on the board at the end of the bed.
"You could have just lived with me peacefully at Pete's, but no. Now you're crazy.Now you're wanted for murder, and now you're alone. You're pretty much a waste of a person to be kept alive." I said shaking his head at me. The words felt like they were bouncing off of me, and having no effect on me. I had never been this numb before. I didn't even know it was possible to be this numb. I mean I've been upset before, but nothing like this.
"Well I gotta go I'm leaving this grummy state to go bang strippers and do drugs. Don't try and contact me I wouldn't want my new fuck buddy to get mad. So...yeah have fun in the loony bin bitch." He said blowing me a kiss and walking out of the room.
And there he went. Leaving my life just as fast as he came in. It is an unbelievable idea that one person can cause so much damage, but I guess I never did much to stop the situation or help myself. I should have listened to Brandon when he first warned me. Oh god Brandon. I can't believe he is dead. Just the awful thought makes my body literally hurt from all of the despair I am harboring. Brandon meant the world to me and I fucking killed him. If Andrew was right about one thing it was that I am a waste of being alive.
I felt as if I wanted to cry, but I was hurting too bad to cry. I probably ran out of tears. I wiggled around inside my straight jacket trying to find a more comfortable position, but couldn't. I didn't want to be in this jacket. I wanted to be in a coffin. I unfortunately couldn't get the jacket off so I just laid in bed staring at the ceiling hoping some how I would just magically die or something, but instead I drifted off into a deep sleep.
I woke up in a white room that was blinding me with the brightness. I went to go move my arm but felt sudden restraint on my muscles. I turned my burning eyes away from the light to see what was holding my back and it was a straight jacket. I started to panic and try to flail my arms, but it was no use. For once Andrew was telling the truth. I was in the psych ward! Oh my god I can't believe he did this to me!
This was all such a shock to my system. The man I loved was dead. The man who "loved me" pretty much had me sent to the psych ward. I frantically searched the room to see if anyone was around me, and I realized the room was even emptier then the regular hospital room. No chairs no TV, only machines that were sustaining my existence that were locked up. I felt very groggy and dazed. I thought it might have something to with the fact I just woke up, but then I realized I had some kind of IV in my arm. Holy shit they're drugging me. I never expected my life to get to this point. Drugged in a hospital because I'm up for the murder of my best friend. I heard the door crack open, and I slowly turned my head to see who was entering. It was Andrew of course. Just seeing him made my blood boil.
"These people here are all push overs." He said strolling in as if he owned the fucking place.
"I just convinced them to let me see you just by saying I really needed to see you. Which used to be true, but now not so much." He said walking over to the window. I turned my head slowly to find him, but the drugs made me feel dizzy as I did it.
"How does it feel? Not to be wanted, or needed, by anyone around you Lisa? How does it feel to be hated by everyone you love? " He said turning back and looking at me with a satisfied smug look. Normally I would have felt some kind of emotion,or had some kind of reaction to his statement, but now I felt nothing.
"Nobody wants a god damn thing to do with you. The only reason I came here was to say goodbye. I'm moving to Jersey with Pete. Oh and to tell you your mom moved to Connecticut." He said walking over to me and standing at the foot of my bed.
"Yeah when a reporter asked her how her daughter was doing in the hospital she said I don't have a daughter. I thought it was pretty harsh what about you?" He said trying to provoke a reaction out of me,but I had no emotions to react off of. I heard what he was saying, and it would have hurt 6-7 months ago, but now it seemed like the usual. Like something that was expected to happen to me.
"You have nothing anymore Lisa. You fucked everything up." He said leaning on the board at the end of the bed.
"You could have just lived with me peacefully at Pete's, but no. Now you're crazy.Now you're wanted for murder, and now you're alone. You're pretty much a waste of a person to be kept alive." I said shaking his head at me. The words felt like they were bouncing off of me, and having no effect on me. I had never been this numb before. I didn't even know it was possible to be this numb. I mean I've been upset before, but nothing like this.
"Well I gotta go I'm leaving this grummy state to go bang strippers and do drugs. Don't try and contact me I wouldn't want my new fuck buddy to get mad. So...yeah have fun in the loony bin bitch." He said blowing me a kiss and walking out of the room.
And there he went. Leaving my life just as fast as he came in. It is an unbelievable idea that one person can cause so much damage, but I guess I never did much to stop the situation or help myself. I should have listened to Brandon when he first warned me. Oh god Brandon. I can't believe he is dead. Just the awful thought makes my body literally hurt from all of the despair I am harboring. Brandon meant the world to me and I fucking killed him. If Andrew was right about one thing it was that I am a waste of being alive.
I felt as if I wanted to cry, but I was hurting too bad to cry. I probably ran out of tears. I wiggled around inside my straight jacket trying to find a more comfortable position, but couldn't. I didn't want to be in this jacket. I wanted to be in a coffin. I unfortunately couldn't get the jacket off so I just laid in bed staring at the ceiling hoping some how I would just magically die or something, but instead I drifted off into a deep sleep.