I look well depressing doing two suicide based stories. Yeah I know, but the who mental hospital story theme is by far my favourite one so I just had to have a go. Can't deny that stories as deep as ones with suicide have the best impact. And they're easy to write and I'm lazy. Anyhow, first chapter to Troubled Youth.
MAKA, BLACKSTAR, PATTIE: 16
SOUL, KID, TSUBAKI, LIZ: 17
Exciting I know. Chapter One! Enjoy kids.
She'd planned it all out perfectly.
The pill container was hidden safely under her mattress, along with the blade. The scars that lined up her wrist, arms, and thighs had yet to fade, especially as she layered more on every time the depression got too much. Maka Albarn was completely and utterly ready. It was a Wednesday, her Mama's day off and favourite day of the week, automatically causing an unusually bright atmosphere to the regularly dull, miserable household. You'd think that'd make Maka more reluctant to leave it all, make her want to stay. However, it had to opposite effect.
It made her want to go.
The light atmosphere just reminded her it wouldn't last, it wasn't real. It was an illusion. The one off day her parents thought they'd give her a break from the screaming, shouting and yelling she'd been brought up in. She was raised in a web of negativity which made this day inevitable. Bet they saw it coming, thought Maka with a smirk as she made her way upstairs, finally home from the tedious day at school.
School wasn't a break from home. Maka didn't know what she hated more. Her emotions were as fickle as weather. In the summer, you want winter. In the winter, you want summer. You always want what you don't have then, but when you finally get what you'd initially been hoping for, you regret it.
Maka wanted to be home when she was at school, as all the attention all on her, but in the worst way. The name calling, hair pulling, and chair kicking. All may seem like little things but they were all enough to push her over the edge. Like winter and summer, home was the opposite then school. She was ignored, it was like she was invisible. As her parents argued in the kitchen she was sat on the table, the distress plain on her face but never seen. Never noticed.
Isn't that enough reason to end it? What's the point? The two lives she led, at home and at school were both pathetic, miserable lives that no one should be forced to live. So what should she?
She opened her bedroom door and locked it behind her, half cursing, half thanking that she knew as a certainty that her parents wouldn't care enough to check on her when the deed was done. When would they finally notice? The smell? The fact no one had prepared them breakfast? Would the school call?
Maka didn't know and she didn't care. She threw her bag to the floor, maybe a little too roughly. The books caused a harsh bang on the wooden floor, echoing slightly. Maka hardly noticed. She fell to her knees at the side of her bed a pulled her tools out. She grinned into the blade. This wasn't to kill herself, this was for old time's sake.
She pulled out the pills afterwards, resting the blade on her knee before popping open the lid. With shaking hands, she shook out twelve pills. She took one at a time, labelling each with a reason of why she wanted to do this, why this was necessary. It made it easier.
She felt nothing after consuming all the pills and decided to cut as she waited for its effects. They came on pretty quickly, as her hand was already shaking tremendously as she attempted to press the blade to her wrist. Her hands began to shake more, shaking uncontrollably. She dropped the knife on the floor, causing a loud clank as it made impact. She knew this was it, she was finally dying. She sat on the floor, leaning on her bed as she hung her head back to rest on the mattress, waiting it out.
As her vision got hazy she heard banging coming from the left. Was this apart of dying? She turned her head to see her door shaking and her eyes, once being heavy lidded, widened. She saw two figures in the door way before her world went black.
Maka glared out the car window, ignoring her parent's idle chatter in the front seats. Are they actually stupid? If they want her to get better so bad they should at least know better than to pretend they're happy. That just makes her feel worse.
She stared at the leaflet in her hand, labelled: Abraham Springs Mental Institution for Troubled Youth. She sighed in exasperation before casting her eyes back out the window. It was this institution that they were headed to now. The fact that she was going there was decided without her. It was decided before she'd even woken up.
Maka blinked open her eyes with difficulty as they felt as heavy as bricks. Her vision went from black to a semi-normal grey colour as she looked around the room. White. That was the first thing that came to her mind. Only when she smelt that antiseptic smell did she realise where she was.
She turned her head to see her parents sat with their heads in their hands, like they cared. She raised a brow before lying her head back down, about to pretend to be asleep as she didn't feel up to this just yet. This she didn't plan for.
"Ah, you're awake."
She mentally cursed the woman stood in her doorway, leaning on the doorframe with her arms crossed. Her glasses reflected the light from the window so her eyes were unseen, giving her a very intimidating atmosphere. A nurse walked around the woman, checking Maka's health while the young girl glared at the woman in the door way.
"Maka?"
This is that woman's fault. Her parents stood to kneel at the side of her bed, they're eyes wide and bloodshot. Could fool anyone. It was loud, the nurse was asking her questions as she shone an irritating light in her eyes. Her parents were arguing about who got to talk to her first and the woman in the doorway was scolding her parents fore 'smothering' her.
Oh please.
"Why am I here?"
The question made everyone's jaws snap shut. All eyes turned to Maka, wide with shock. Maka raised her eyebrows at those who looked at her in disbelief.
"Well?" she asked when no one answered, somewhat impatient.
"Maka," her Mum began slowly, her eyes narrowed. "What do you me-"
"Why am I still alive?" Maka asked bluntly, deciding to give them what they want. Her parents gasped and looked at each other in disbelief, even the nurse took a sharp intake of breathe. The only person who kept her wits was the woman in the doorway. She turned to eye those in the room, tilting her head slightly.
"May I ask you to leave? I'd like a moment with Maka."
Her parents and the nurse did so without discussion. Her Mum tried to squeeze her hand but Maka pulled her hand away, looking at her mother almost disdainfully.
"Don't." she said sharply, looking to her with narrowed eyes. Her mother stifled a cry a walked out quickly, her father following steadily. The woman in the doorway finally stepped in and shut the door behind her. Only then did Maka notice the clipboard in her hand and the pen tucked behind her ear and stifled a groan. Councillor.
"My name is Azusa." She said as she made her way to a chair, though her attention was solely on Maka.
"Now, Maka," she began, sitting in the seat her Mum was previously sat in. "Wanna tell me why you tried to commit suicide?"
Maka raised her brows at the woman. That was quick, usually they work up to it and try and gain trust but this woman just went straight for her goal.
"… I didn't." Maka replied in a guarded voice. Azusa sighed, taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes.
"So, you're one of them ones, huh?"
"One of what ones?"
"The ones who deny everything. They use denial as a sense of escape because they think they're high and mighty enough to deal with everything on their own. Admirable but stupid."
Maka blinked at Azusa. She was… right. How did she get all of that just by her response? But Maka was stubborn. She squared her shoulders and tilted her chin up, glaring out the window.
"I didn't try to kill myself," she said calmly.
"You took 12 sleeping pills in the space of 60 seconds." Azusa said precisely, as if trying to get it in her head.
"I had a headache." Maka offered lamely.
"…Hm." Azusa jotted something down on the clipboard, placing her glasses back on her face before looking up to Maka again.
"Okay, I think I know what you need." She said, fiddling through some papers before pulling out a leaflet, pointing it to Maka. She didn't take it.
"I don't need anything. I'm fine." Maka said stubbornly, folding her arms.
Asuza dropped her arm, facing Maka with a very hard expression that made her feel little. Young. She squirmed under her gaze but did attempt to meet it head on, though she looked feeble in comparison.
"Maka," she began. "I've been speaking with you for less than 5 minutes and I already have multiple diagnoses. You are not fine." She announced, making Maka's eyes grow wide.
"What?"
"Mhm," Azusa nodded. "You've been diagnosed with a personality disorder as well as phychosis. But Maka, they aren't even what I'm worried about and they're both very bad illnesses to have, especially at your age."
"What is it you're worried about then?" Maka asked, somewhat reluctantly. Azusa met her eyes with her own expressionless ones.
"You have been diagnosed with severe depression, Maka. And that was a diagnosis that came to be the moment you put the last pill in your mouth."
Maka heaved another sigh, unaware that they were currently pulling into the Institution's grounds.
"Maka," her Dad spoke, turning to eye her with a smile painted onto his face. "We're here, you can finally recover! You excited?"
She eyed her father in disgust. Was he that anxious to get rid of her? She opened the door before the car had stopped moving, shaking her head as she made her way up the steep steps, her parents scurrying after her.
The building looked a lot like a hospital, minis all the automatic door and that awful smell. She made her way in at her parents sides, falling back automatically as they made their way to the reception.
"Oh, hello!" A cheery voice sounded before they got to the desk, Maka turned to see a blonde haired woman making her way towards them through two double doors that seemed to lead into the hospital. She was pretty, minus the black eye patch that seemed so out of place on a woman as pretty as her. "I'm Marie, is this a new recruit?"
"Oh, hi," Kami said, shaking the woman's hand. "We're here for Maka?"
"Ah, Maka!" the woman clapped her hands together as her eyes landed on Maka, she grinned and they girl just stared at her blankly. "Well, you look just about ready, if you want to see your roo-"
"Yes," Maka said, somewhat desperately. The blonde woman grinned again before turning to Maka's parents.
"If you want to say your goodbyes I can take Maka to get settled while you finish the paper work. Is that alright?"
"That's fine," they said in unison. Her mother hugged her softly though Maka did not return it and murmured her goodbye in her hair. Maka's heart clenched. Oh, how she wished it was genuine. The feeling continued as her Dad planted a soft kiss on her forehead, his voice strained as he muttered his goodbye.
"Now, you get better soon so you can come back to us, you hear?" he said in a thick voice, wrapping his arm around her mother's waist who rested her head on his shoulder, nodding in agreement. Maka stared at the scene in confusion. It looks real.
"I-I-" she cleared her throat before starting again. "I-I'll miss you guys," she stuttered before turning her back, heading to the two doors Marie had come from.
Maka ended up in Marie's office. It was quite homely for an office. She sat before her and twiddled her thumbs. Marie watched this and wrote something down. Maka frowned and pulled her hands apart, Marie jotted something down again. Maka suppressed a growl of annoyance.
"So, Maka," Marie began, her voice already coated in sympathy. "I heard your story from Azusa and it just about broke my heart. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," Maka said immediately, meeting Marie's eyes with her own blankly, hoping to give nothing away. "There's nothing to talk about."
Marie's eyes clouded with pain, "Maka, I know you haven't been able to talk to someone recently but that's different now. There are people here who will actually understand you, know what you're going through and some who have gone through worse. You're on the same road, Maka. If you want to get better, we need to talk."
"No," Maka said again. "They need to talk to get better. I need to be left alone."
"No one can recover on their own, not even someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"You've been enduring this for a while now, haven't you?" she asked, looking to the papers on her lap. Maka shuffled in discomfort. "From your diagnosis I can see this was a long term thing. Want to tell me about that?"
"Will it make you leave me alone?"
"Yes."
"Fine, I tried to end it all because there was nothing left. It wasn't getting better. I had nothing to look forward to and nothing made me happy. Hell, I have yet to understand what happy feels like. But I can't be helped because this is who I am. I was brought up in such a negative environment that it seeped into me and made me who I am today. You can't change that no matter how much you want to." Marie folded her arms over the clipboard, leaning forward as she analysed her patient.
Marie narrowed her eyes before jotting something down and leaning toward her patient again. "Maka, everyone in their life feels like there's no point at some point. You just had more reason to believe it. But you can get better as long as you cooperate." Maka scoffed and turned her head away.
"You don't think I've already thought about that?" Maka asked in exasperation. "I did, I tried to think in every single way how things could get better but I came up blank. My parent's are the problem and they will never change and I'm stuck with them till I turn 18. I'm sorry but I'm not willing to last that long."
Marie shook her head and placed her notebook down, making Maka feel a bit more at ease. When she wrote stuff down she felt like she was being studied. She didn't like that. "There are ways you wouldn't understand that could improve your mental health. Things that we can offer here."
Maka sighed and Marie leaned forward to pat her shoulder. Maka relaxed under the comforting pressure and Marie seemed to notice. "We will do everything in out power to make you happy, Maka," she said in a firm voice, making Maka look up in surprise before offering a tentative smile.
"To make me happy?" she asked with a laugh. "Not healthy. I thought you all thought I was sick."
Marie nodded slowly before drawing her hands away. "You are sick, Maka. You're mentally sick and you suffer physical wounds that were self inflicted." Maka winced. "You hurt yourself too, Maka?"
"It helps me," she said through gritted teeth.
"Maka, it wouldn't help you, you may think it did but it didn't."
"It did," she insisted.
"How?" Marie asked suddenly. Maka sighed before leaning back into her seat.
"I was hurting all the time," she said before pointing at her head. "In here. My head always hurt and it made me feel even worse. When I cut the pain was separated. The physical pain distracted me from the mental pain and the mental pain was always so much worse." she choked on her words. "It was such a relief. But it only lasted for as long as I cut."
"Your life is all one moment, Maka," Marie said suddenly. "Once we fix you, that moment wont hurt anymore, you'll be happy."
Maka shook her head in disagreement, smirking at the woman menacingly before saying her next words. "Why do you think I took them pills, Miss Marie?" she asked with a chuckle before her face turned blank.
"I was ready for that moment to end."