I imagined the Doctor would be nothing if not surprised by my words. But I was wrong.
Staying calm, he asked me why. "Why do you want death?" he asked me.
I thought very hard for a moment. "I don't have reason enough to live anymore. My father hates me, I don't have any friends, my mother doesn't understand. She probably never will. Why should I hang on to life when I'm pactically dead already? Why should I wait for a reason to live when I have every right and reason in the book to die?" I asked him angrily.
"That settles that, I suppose," the doctor mumbled under his breath. Then he whispered something into a small microphone. I waited cautiously. A woman with thin graying hair dressed in a spotless white lab coat wheeled in a wheelchair and looked pointedly at the Doctor. He ordered me to sit down. As soon as I did, he came at me with a needle. I was frightened now. I hadn't agreed to this. i put up a struggle, but in the end I was gasping in pain as my world went dark and a cloud of black erased all my thoughts. I dreamt such a beautiful dream. When i finally woke up, I screamed the words I had never been able to tell anyone before now. "Jesus, save me!"