The beeps coming from the heart monitor seemed to distract me from the recent news of death and sorrow. The beeps were mine. The heart monitor produced them, but they were mine. I couldn't tell if they were healthy or not. Maybe I would be the next one to die. My funeral would only hold my relatives and the very few friends I've managed to keep for the few years I was in school.
As I went on and on in my mind about my death, I didn't notice the door open and close with a soft click. It wasn't my fault I didn't have the most perfect hearing as of a month ago. A car accident with a drunk driver can do that to you. As my parents said it, I was mentally unable to keep up with anything anymore. I was home-schooled, or as I liked to call it- hospital-schooled. Thanks to that accident everyone saw me as someone who was mentally enable to do anything I use to be able to. That was a load of bull. I was able to do even more than I could before, but sometimes my hearing got a little fuzzy. By a little, I meant a lot. Little kids would yell 'I can't hear you!' as a joke. I, on the other hand, actually couldn't hear you when my mind flipped out and the hearing portion broke down.
Did I mention the brain damage? Yeah, well, thank you drunk driving. I use to have mental melt downs every five hours, but now it only happened every week or so. My teachers didn't take them well either. I was sent home every day around 5th period thanks to them. Wasn't my fault my brain fried after lunch. The information was just too much to handle. My dad seemed to be ticked off every time he saw me freak out.
One of my old friends told me that I was cute, and if it wasn't for the melt downs and loss of hearing, everyone would hang around me. I knew that wasn't the truth. It was my personality they didn't like. I could scream insults at them for hours on hours on hours. It wasn't my fault the world had something against me, and that was all I could do to express myself. I didn't mind shouting at people either. Insults slid off of my tongue without hesitation. Why hesitant when I knew exactly what I was saying?
In that very moment, my mind decided it didn't like being normal and flipped out. My body limbs were flying everywhere and out of my control. Before I knew it, I was screaming at the top of my lungs. I was surprised that my limbs were still attached to me, and that I hadn't hurt my vocal cords yelling this loud. It took my older brother to calm me down. He was the lucky one. He didn't have these breakdowns, and Dad loved him. So did Mom. I could see the way it hurt them to look at me like this. It really hurt me as well, but they couldn't see that.
I didn't know how long had passed since my breakdown, and I didn't care. They were forcing me to go back to that stupid school. That school contained the jocks that made my life a living Hell. The main one, Dave Strider, had pushed me so hard once that I had a meltdown out of my usual routine. I don't think he actually cared if he ticked off someone outside of his group of friends. To be honest, I was a little happy that my older brother played football. Sometimes I got to go to lunch with him, and I got into football games free. I sat down on the bench with the other players, but I didn't go out on the field. I just got to sit in the player seats due to my condition.
My mind was distracted from the present, so I didn't notice we were out of my hospital room until a bit later. I asked my dad where we were going over and over again, but he didn't reply. I could see his knuckles turn white against the wheel. I knew then that I should calm down and stop asking, but did I? No. No because I wanted to know where they taking me. I didn't want to go to another hospital. All of the hospitals sucked ass. They all treated me the same. Oh, little boy, please calm down. I hated them and the way they talked to me. I was capable of more thoughts than them!
Where I was now was much worse than any other hospital around the world. School. To be exact, my old school. It seemed like my mind was freaking out more today than any other day. I was completely silent and frozen in my seat. I didn't want to go in there. I really didn't, but who would listen to me?
No one was the answer. No one wanted to listen to someone with brain damage, and end up being called stupid. So I was stuck with no one to listen to me. That was the way things worked in this world, and it wasn't my fault. It sure did feel like it though.
Before I knew it, my feet were padding along beside my brother's. I couldn't stop them from moving because my brain decided that I held no power over my feet. I knew I was leaning on Kankri, my brother, to keep from falling over though. I knew a lot of things. My mind went blank for a minute, but when it focused again I was screaming my head off.
"Wha's rong? You want yer Mommie?" he held out the word 'Mommie' and his breath had a horrid smell to it.
"No, but I'm sure you could use some mouthwash." That earned me a punch in the stomach.
"Shut yer mouth, ye useless vermin." I didn't understand how anyone could possibly understand him.
"Stop picking on the mental kid," that came from someone else. "I already had dibs on that."
Oh. Oh no. Not this asshole.