Burn It Down

As I walked in to the place that would be my home for the next six months, I wasn't sure exactly how I felt. The ward had originally been my parents' idea, but once they'd made the final decision, I'd had to sign myself in since I was of age. I did it willingly. I don't know why I didn't put up a fight. It wasn't that I particularly wanted to be there, it was mostly just that I didn't have anything better to be doing. Why not waste six months somewhere where I'd get free food and would possibly get some help for the issues I'd been holding onto for so long? Seemed like an alright deal when I really thought about it.

They showed me around, showed me my room, kept reminding me how I was "free to do what I wanted, as I pleased". What if I pleased to go to the bar down the street? I guessed that wasn't an option. Somehow I was one of the "lucky few" that didn't have to have a roommate. My guess was because that hadn't gotten enough of a handle on me yet to know if I was homicidal in addition to suicidal. But for the record, I wasn't suicidal. I don't think I'd ever been. Mostly I'd just wanted someone to fucking notice me. I know it doesn't make much sense from the outside, but I was just so tired of feeling so alone. I don't know why I thought attempting to kill myself would remedy that, but hindsight's 20/20 and all that bullshit.

"You didn't bring any belongings with you?" the nurse who'd shown me around, Greta, asked as I plopped myself down on the lumpy mattress in my premier private suite.

"My parents told me I couldn't," I told her, and she got a confused look in her eye.

"You're absolutely allowed to have personal things. You'll need clothes, after all," Greta said, sitting down lightly in an uncomfortable-looking chair across the room. "Everything that comes in gets searched extensively just for safety reasons, but we encourage patients to bring in things."

"Yeah... my parents aren't exactly researchers," I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes at her.

"Well. I'll be sure to give them a call. Just a heads up, you've got an appointment with Dr. Jameson in twenty minutes," she told me, referring to my therapist that I hadn't met yet.

"Thanks," I told her quietly, just wishing she'd leave. She got the hint after a moment and did so. I couldn't believe my parents hadn't even known enough about the place to tell me to bring clothes. My mom had said I'd probably have to wear some sort of "uniform" or something, which had seemed wrong, but I thought she'd done her research and knew.

Twenty minutes later, another nurse showed up to take me to my therapist's office. I walked in and was instantly surprised by what Dr. Jameson looked like. She wasn't much older than me, had long black hair, and a lip ring. I entered hesitantly, wondering if maybe I'd been shown to the wrong place. I'd been expecting something completely different, for sure.

"Hello, Emma. Please come in. I'm Dr. Jameson," she said a moment later, confirming that I was in fact in the right place.



An hour later, I exited my doctor's office feeling surprisingly much better about things. I actually liked her, which I hadn't really expected when I'd first arrived in the ward.

As I walked down the hall to go back to my room, I felt eyes on me and looked up hesitantly. He looked away as soon as my eyes connected with his, but I couldn't help but really wish he hadn't. He was taller than me and what I could see of him was almost completely covered in tattoos. His black hair lay messily and haphazardly on his head and stubble covered his chin. He was dressed casually, a pair of simple black pants and an old band tee. It wasn't any of that that really caught my attention, though. Mostly, it was his absolutely gorgeous sea green eyes. The moment seemed to take forever to pass, and then he was past me and I wished I could turn around without being ridiculously obvious.

When I finally got back to my room, I couldn't stop thinking about him. I couldn't figure out what it was, but something about him just seemed so... mysterious and exciting. I know that me feeling that way was ridiculously stupid since he hadn't even said a word to me, but something about him just made me want to know him.