Falling

I remember someone shaking me, someones pain filled voice trying to pull me out of the gloom. I remember the sound of siren, bright light behind my eyes, and then nothing more.
The sound of a beeping machine pulled me out of my slumber but I dared not open my eyes. I felt incredibly tired and didn't want to wake up. It took a while before I remembered I was supposed to be dead. My head was foggy and felt heavy. Was I in hell? Limbo? Purgatory? Certainly not heaven.
I could hear voices talking and someone's footsteps. I cracked my eyes open just enough to see that I was in a hospital room.
I lied perfectly still so I wouldn't draw attention to myself. I had on a hospital gown, there as an iv in my right arm and I noticed my hands and legs we in restraints. Great. Why was I here? Was I dreaming? Do you dream when you're dying? If yes, then why would I dream this?
I raised my head slightly and then one of the nurses who stood outside the open door turned around and saw that I was woke.
She walked in, “Hi, how do you feel?” I didn't answer.
She continued badgering me with questions but I refused to talk. She huffed a sigh, checked my vitals told me I was in the hospital because of a suicide attempt as if I didn't already know that. She went back out into the hall that's when I saw Chris, along with my mom and sister. I closed my eyes and cursed myself for not taking more pills.
“Honey, you're woke.” Chris said and at the same time my mother said, “Oh thank God.”
God had nothing to do with this I thought.
The look on their faces as I opened my eyes hurt me. I could tell they had all been crying and Chris looked worse for wear. His suit was wrinkled and his tie undone. He ran his hand over my head in an affectionate way. I couldn't show any emotion for him. I felt tired and angry and wanted to be left alone.
“What were you thinking?” said my mother said in a loud whisper, tossing her blonde hair back. “Why would you try to kill yourself? You have everything any woman would dream of.”
“Mom, please.” My sister Madison said, trying to calm her down.
Madison is older than me by three years and was always considered the taller, skinner, prettier, smarter one, which I agreed with majority of the time. She was five nine, had long blonde hair like mom and looked like a model, in fact she had been one in her teens. “She's been through enough.”
“It was of her own accord, Madison. No one told her to take a bottle of pills.”
“Baby what happened?” Chris whispered, getting closer to me. “We were worried sick.”
“We know what happened, Christopher.” Mom interrupted. Chris looked at her with angry eyes, mom didn't notice.
“Mom...” Madison said.
Mom raised her hand at Maddie, indicating she wanted her to be quiet, “I tried to raise you right and this is the thanks I get?” Mom said.
“Get out.” was the first words I spoke. “Get the fuck out of here, now.” I said it with only a hint of anger. My head was hurting and quite frankly they might want to keep me here longer if I caused a scene. My mother looked insulted but before she could get in another word a doctor knocked on the door.
“Hello I'm Dr. Johannson, you must be Dylan's mother.”
He looked to be in his late thirties, had dark brown hair with a bit of gray. He was tall almost six feet and had a slim figure. I guess I would call him handsome.
My mother's anger at me washed away as she put on a fake smile, “Yes, Linda McCarty,” she stuck out her hand for him to shake which he promptly did, “and this is my other daughter Madison.”
“I'm Christopher, Dylan's husband.” The two men shook hands briefly.
“Pleasure to meet you all. I was wondering if I could have a talk with Dylan alone?”
“Yes sure.” My mother said politely. They left the room, Chris gave me a final look and closed the door. Once the were gone Dr. Johannson pulled a chair up to my bedside.
“Hello Dylan, how are you feeling?”
“Are you a psychiatrist?” I asked him instead.
He smiled, “Yes, does that bother you?”
“I'm pretty sure you already think I'm crazy.”
“Why would I think that?”
I snort, “Isn't it obvious?”
“Dylan I don't think you're crazy but I do have to perform a psych analysis on you to determine whether or not you're fit for release.”
“And if I'm not?”
“You would have to stay here or go to a mental institution until you're well enough to go home. You're family is very concerned.”
I scoffed, “So you think.”
“What does that mean?”
“They don't care about me, never have.”
“Do you know who found you?” I shook my head but I could guess who. “Your husband. He managed to keep you alive until the paramedics arrived and pumped your stomach. He was devastation at the idea of losing you. Your mother wasn't prepared to lose you either.” I resisted rolling my eyes. “We thought you wouldn't make it. If he hadn't gotten home when he did you would be dead.”
I stared up at the ceiling. My relationship with Chris was to say the least complicated. Should I be grateful he saved me when I wanted to die?
“I need to ask you some questions.” when I didn't respond he continued, “Why did you attempt to kill yourself?”
“I was bored.”
“Seriously Dylan, you will be locked away.”
“Fine, I didn't want to live.”
“And why was that?”
“Because I was living a lie. I'm not going to go into details with you about it but I just figure that was better than the alternative.”
“Which is?”
“Living.”
He wrote something down then asked, “Was this your first attempt?” I nodded. “Why did you decide to do it this night, why not before.”
“Because Chris wasn't supposed to be home.” I said
He took more notes and continued asking questions I only vaguely answered. By the end of it I wasn't sure if they would release me or not But I don't think I cared either way.
“Can I get out of these restrains?” I asked him.
He shook his head, “Not until we know if you're a danger to yourself or others.” Bullshit, I wanted to say but figured it would do no good.
When Dr. Johannson left Chris came in, my mother and Madison left after they had been told I would live. He sat down and held my hand. I could barely look at him. He didn't speak for a long time.
“I love you.” he said, he told me that a lot, but I said nothing. Those three words never were uttered by my lips even though he had been together three years now.
We sat in silence a while longer. “I'm not sure why you did it. I hope it wasn't because of me. When you're ready to talk I'll be here.” He kissed my forehead before he left the room.
I saw the clock on the wall. It read 3: 43, I assumed AM.
Well I had lived to see my twenty first birthday after all.