Isabella
I pick at food with the plastic fork. Everything was plastic. Plastic chairs, plastic utensils, plastic plates. I guess it was harder to kill yourself with plastic.
"If you don't eat, they'll force a feeding tube through your nose."
I whipped my head around and look at the girl sitting next to me. She had long brown hair and hazel eyes. She looked like one of those child models you'd see on the cover of Vogue or something. She looked too normal to be stuck in a mental hospital.
"It happened to me before. Your orderly will give an ultimatum: thirty minutes to eat your food and if you still don't then they'll give you drink supplements. If you don't drink that then you'll be given the tube. Trust me when I say, you don't want it."
Her voice sounded like bells. She smiles at me and says, "I'm Vennessa Wolfe but you can call me, Nessie."
I give a thin-lipped smile. "I'm Isabella."
"Are you new here?" she asks. "I've never seen you before."
I look down at the table, nodding my head. Was it that obvious? I didn't belong here.
"Well I've been here for two months and I don't regret it."
My head shoots up. I stare at her like she's just murdered, someone. Did she actually like it here? Who liked living in a mental hospital?
She laughs at my expression, knowing that it was an unpopular opinion. "My father can't get to me and I have a safe place to sleep. They give me medication that makes my head fuzzy and it's a really nice distraction. They'll never release me if I keep misbehaving."
The question is on the tip of my tongue I don't want to ask. What could she have done to end up here? Her eyes darkened when she talked about her father. Was her home life really that bad?
"I know what you must be thinking. How did I end up here?" she quirked her eyebrows. "Well, I ran away from home when I was thirteen years old. Short story short, my dad pimped me off to anyone who would pay to use me for the night."
My stomach turns, feeling sick at what she was telling me. I thought that my parents were bad but her father was the literal devil.
"I was caught two months ago after shoplifting from a store. The doctors said that I stay here because my home life sucked and apparently I have anger issues." she scoffs.
"I'm sorry." is all I can say. How was I supposed to respond to that? Just because she looked normal didn't mean that she was. My mom always said, don't judge a book by its cover.
"No you're not." she laughs. "You just pity me. Do you like it when everyone tells you, how sorry they are?"
I shake my head back and forth.
"Exactly. So don't say you're sorry if you don't mean it. You are just as damaged as me… if not more."
A furious blush spreads across my cheeks. How could I be worse? Her dad literally sold her to make money.
Changing the subject, Nessie looked down at my uneaten plate of food. "Are you really not going to eat?" she whispers.
I nod my head.
"Okay, switch plates with me." she urgently says.
I look at her like she's crazy. What was she talking about?. She glances at the nurses standing to the side. Their attention is diverted and Nessie grabs my plate, switching it with her half-eaten one. She starts shoveling food into her mouth quickly devouring everything.
"They won't bother you if they think you've at least eaten half of your meal. This is what everyone does who doesn't want to eat." she says with a mouth full of broccoli.
A moment later my orderly walks over. I should really learn her name. She smiles, content that I "ate" at least half of my meal and happy that I've made a friend.
"Dinner is just about over, so I thought that we could leave early." she said.
I want to stay and talk to Nessie but I don't argue. We say goodbye to each other promising to talk tomorrow. I'm wheeled out of the noisy room and go back down the way we came before. We entered a small room that looked like a nurse's office. The woman pulls out a bunch of things from a cabinet and sets them on the table next to me.
She takes my blood pressure first, recording down the numbers and then helps me up as I leaned against her body for support, hopping around on my leg. She then takes my height and weight. She grimaces reading my weight and sighs rather loudly. "A girl your age should weight at least 118-120 pounds but you are 23 pounds underweight. You've got to gain more in the next few days or else I'll be forced to hook you up to a feeding tube. Do you understand how serious this is?"
"Some people are skinnier than others. I don't understand how that's a problem. It's not like I'm dying." I sneer.
"Yet." she places her hands on her hips. "The more weight you lose the more dangerous it will become. I'm going to stay with you at every meal and make sure you eat. There will be no throwing away your food or switching plates with others. Do you understand me?"
I glare at her and wished she would melt away like the Wicked Witch of the West.
"I won't let you starve yourself to death."
Without another word, she forced me into the wheelchair and brings me to my room. We passed others in the hallway coming back from dinner. I was fuming with rage and the other nurses just stared at mine empathetically. Great, I was the crazy one now. This was definitely helping my case.
Not.
The room is still empty when we arrive and clothes lay neatly folded on my bed. The woman helps me up and onto the thin mattress.
"Do you need help getting dressed?" she asks.
"I did it fine just before." I mutter.
"Great. I'll be waiting in the hall." is all she says. She exits the room leaving the door still partway open.
Great. She was a perv. Did all the orderlies spy on us getting dressed? I scoff and change out of the itchy scrubs and into the grey sweatpants and t-shirt. I yell for her when I'm done and she takes me to the bathroom. It was fucking ridiculous. They stood outside the door as you took a fucking piss. They watched you as you brushed your teeth and don't even get me started on showering. I'd die before I let them see me naked. I don't say another word as we head back to my room. Once inside, she handed me two pills and a cup of water.
"What are these?"
She sighs and crosses her arms over her chest. "Sleeping pills. They'll help you at night."
"I don't need fucking pills to help me sleep. I'm not taking these." I hiss and place them on the table.
She was trying to screw everything up. I was in a new place with new people and I had no idea what they were capable of. How did I know that someone was not going to come into the room and the middle of the night and hurt me? This is why I had to stay awake and she was trying to screw up my routine. I wasn't going to let myself be defenseless.
"Isabella, it's mandatory that you take them. This is not an option." her voice hardens.
"You can't trick me. I know my rights and you can't force me to take medication. I'm not as stupid as you think." I scoff.
I watch her confidence falter as she realizes that I'm right. She presses her lips into a thin line and grumbles. "You win tonight but you may not be so lucky tomorrow."
"I'm telling Dr. Cullen that you threatened me. He'll take me out of this crazy place and sue your ass off."
"You wouldn't." she gulped. "He won't believe you anyway. He's the one that had you admitted."
"You don't know anything." I said. "Trust me when I say that."
I couldn't tell if my roommate was borderline psychotic or just had a sick sense of humor. Her name was Leah and I'm pretty sure she would murder me in my sleep if given the chance. She had muddy brown eyes, black hair, and tan skin.
She arrived several hours later just as I was starting to fall asleep. She collapsed on the bed and giggled at the ceiling.
"Hello." I whispered.
She sits up and smirks at me, looking me over. "You must be the newbie. Nessie couldn't stop talking about you. Isabelle, is it?"
"Isabella." I huff. "My name is Isabella Swan."
She quirked her eyebrows at me and leaned back against the wall. "I'm Leah." she says. "I don't know what all the fuss was about. You're not as special as Nessie said you were."
I don't respond, not knowing what to say. This girl was cocky as fuck and it pissed me off. I could say a lot of things about her but I didn't want to get my head chopped off in the middle of the night.
"My last roommate was kicked out of the hospital. She was too uncontrollable for them to deal with. The girl was a psychotic bitch."
"What did she do?" I gasp.
"Rumor has it that she tried to stab a nurse. She went full attack mode and tried to off herself after."
"Where she is now?" my eyes widened.
"I dunno. Probably at a different hospital." she laughed. "What are you here for?"
I shrug my shoulders, suddenly more interested in my blanket than this conversation. I didn't want to go around telling everyone I was suicidal. It would just make it more real and I didn't want to have to think about it.
Leah laughed, startling me. She smirked and glared at me with her dark gleaming eyes. "I know your type. You think that you're better than all of us, psychopaths."
"I never said that!"
"I can tell. You have the perfect family, perfect grades, and perfect friends but something went wrong and they stuck you in this prison. Don't act cocky. You're just as crazy as the rest of us." she scoffed."
"Shut up!" I growl. "You know nothing about my life, so don't go around making assumptions. If I were you, I'd keep your mouth shut."
"What are you going to do about it?" she mocks me. "You gonna hobble over and club me death with your cast?"
I opened my mouth but before I can speak, the door bursts open. Two nurses stare at us, seeming out of breath.
"What's going on ladies? We heard shouting." the male says.
Leah puts on her best smile and plays the innocent girl she wants them to believe. "It was nothing, Adam. We were just having a little argument, that's all."
"Isabella, is this true?" the woman asks.
I nod my head up and down, noticing Leah glaring at me. "It was just an argument. There is nothing to worry about."
They both sigh, realizing that they're going to get nothing more out of us. "If we hear another peep from you two then we'll be forced to separate you."
I wouldn't mind that.
"I understand, ma'am. It won't happen again." she feigns embarrassment. I hastily repeat what she said, just wanting these people to get off our case.
"Alright." the man says. "Lights out in ten minutes. I don't want to have to come back."
"Okay, Adam." she has cheeky smiles. "Goodnight!"
They both leave and Leah drops the act. It's almost as if she's glaring daggers at me. I stare back, not wanting to the weaker one.
"Have you ever heard the saying, your bark is worse than your bite?"
I clench my jaw, willing myself not to lash out. Leah was just trying to provoke me. She wanted a reaction so she could have more to make fun of.
"You've got no backbone. Hell, I just met you and even I can tell that you're falling apart. Don't say things you don't mean."
She shuts off the light and we both get under the covers. Tears spring in my eyes and I can feel a full-on panic attack coming. I should have taken the damn sleeping pills.
"I never told you why I'm here." she all of a sudden said.
"Why?" I choke.
She barks a laugh. "I tried to cut off my boyfriend's dick after he left me. I ended up stuck in this place instead of juvie. 'This is your time to redeem yourself.' I quote the judge. I would have rather gone to jail. This place sucks."
I was right. My roommate is psychotic. She may as well just kill me now. It's only a matter of time.
I didn't see Nessie at breakfast or in group therapy or in the dreadful place they call school. I spent four hours, relearning everything from freshman year. These people were idiots compared to me. I was in advanced classes for a reason and it wasn't fair that I was being held back.
Leah spent the entire class making snide remarks and I'm pretty sure every kid hated me. I was now the snobby, stuck up kid who thought she was too smart for everyone else. I was just as hated here as at home all because of my fucking roommate. And my only friend abandoned me.
The teacher dismissed us and I was roughly hit in the head with something as we were piling out of the room. I glare at the couple of girls that giggle and run away. They were Jessica and Tanya 2.0.
My orderly or as I call her, the Wicked Bitch of the West, stands outside of the room, only coming in once everyone cleared out. She just pushes me away, choosing not to comment on the nasty scowl on my face.
I was already pissed off at her enough. She sat next to me the entire breakfast, forcing me to choke down the disgusting food. I didn't even know what it was, I just wanted to puke it all up.
The clock hits one o'clock and she opens the door, bringing us inside a room that looked like an office. A man sat at the desk, smiling at the both of us.
"I'll take over from here, Rachel."
The Wicked Bitch of the West finally had a name. Rachel. It didn't suit her. She leaves me with the strange man and softly shuts the door. I'm quiet, not knowing what to do or say. My fingers rhythmically tap against the chair. One, two, three, four, five…
He still doesn't speak.
Six, seven, eight, nine, ten…
Small gasps escape my mouth. I shifted uncomfortably in the wheelchair, feeling awkward around the doctor. Was he going to stare at me this entire time?
Eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen.
"I'm Dr. Peter Haggerty. It's nice to meet you, Isabella." he stares at me as if he's studying me. He had brown curly hair, a round face, and a thick southern accent. He reminded me of Jasper.
My fingers itch to tap again. I squeeze my hands into fists, fighting the urge. If I started now then I wouldn't be able to stop.
I look at the clock. It's only been fifteen seconds since he last spoke. I wasn't allowed to leave for thirty minutes. Were we going to sit in silence the entire time?
My eyes flit to the time. It's been another fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds of pure silence and awkward looks.
"Do you know what I've noticed in the first five minutes you've been here?" he asks.
He leans his chin against his hand, waiting for me to respond. I shake my head back and forth, startled by his question.
"You look at the clock every fifteen seconds and you tap your fingers on the chair fifteen times in a row. Every single time it's fifteen. Do you know what OCD is?"
"Yes, of course, I do!" I snap.
He turns back to the computer looking through files and documents. "There doesn't seem to be any mention of OCD in your past medical files. I assume that you haven't been diagnosed?"
"I'm fine so you don't need to do any testing. It's just something that I do." I huff.
My hands clench onto the arms of the chair and I struggle to contain myself. My foot softly taps again the ground.
One, two, three, four…
He doesn't respond and continues to look through my entire medical history.
"It seems that up until now, everything's been alright. You've attempted suicide, expresses your desire to die, and have symptoms that mirror OCD." He sighs and turns around. "How is your home life?"
"Fine." I grumble. "Everything is fucking perfect."
He gives me a look that says, knock it off.
"There haven't been any problems with your parents or your brother? High school can be a tricky time for most teens. It's not abnormal to be stressed with everything."
"Everything is fine. I already told the psychologist all of this!"
"I'm just trying to get a better picture." He says. "How are your sleeping habits? Have you needed any help in the past, such as medication, to help you get to sleep?"
I shake my head. In truth, I was exhausted. I probably only got an hour of sleep last night. That's all I ever get.
"Your orderly told me that you refused the sleeping pills. Is there a reason?"
I scoff. "I don't want to be drugged. I need to be aware. I need to be alert. I'm not going to let anyone fuck with my mind."
"Well from the looks of it, you're really tired. How much sleep did you get last night?"
I shrug my shoulders up and look away from him. I didn't want him to see the lie in my eyes. They'd drug me the first chance they got.
"Isabella, your health is important." his voice hardens. "You're sixteen years old for god's sake. If you're going to act like a five-year-old then I'm going to treat you like one. I would have thought you'd be more mature for your age."
My vision becomes blurry as tears fill my eyes. He had no right to call me immature! I was forced here against my will so he shouldn't expect me to comply.
"I'm going to ask again- how many hours of sleep did you get last night?"
"I dunno." I mumbled. "Like three?"
I hear the typing of the keyboard. I continue to stare at the tiled ground and hastily wiped away the fallen tears. I wasn't going to cry. I'm not a cry baby.
"Is that normal for you?"
"Yes." my voice is scratchy.
"Thank you, Isabella. Can you tell me about your suicidal ideation? How long have you been having those thoughts? Is this the first time you attempted suicide?"
I nod my head. I didn't want to talk about this. I didn't want to tell him to know how messed up I was. They'd just lock me up longer.
"I need answers, Isabella. You are not leaving until you give me something." Dr. Haggerty said.
"Fine!" I growl. "You wanna know? I think about killing myself every single day. No amount of pills you give me can drown out the pain and hurt I feel every single day. Do you know what it's like? It fucking hurts!" I cry.
I was a blubbering mess and all he does is nod his head. Why kind of fucking doctor was he? He's supposed to council me! Help me! Not just sit there and nod his fucking head!
"Thank you, that's just what I needed to hear." he passes a box of tissues and I roughly rub at my eyes. I was a fucking mess.
"Based on everything I've read and you told me. I'm prescribing one dose of Ambien to take before bed and two doses of antidepressants to take every morning." He said as he typed. "I'm also recommending that tomorrow you see your GP so he can give you a formal diagnosis of OCD and then we can go from there. Do you have any questions?"
Do I have any questions? I scoff, wanting to strangle this man. He was a fucking idiot. I dig my nails into my wrist and feel the pain. I wanted the pain. It was a nice distraction from my fucked up life.
Author's Note: IMPORTANT!
Hey y'all! So sorry it's been so long for this update! I went on vacation again :-) and had no time to write. Thank y'all so much for reading and reviewing! It means so much to me!
Some people have been commenting that it's getting to be too much now, that Bella hasn't told anyone what happened. I just want to say that the whole point of the story is her life after the assault. Some people will speak up about their assault and others will stay silent about for many different reasons. Jacob literally threatened to hurt Bella, her family isn't being very supportive and her friends have left her. She terrified of what he could do and lonely because she has almost no support from anyone so she is staying silent. I'm not trying to be rude but unless you, yourself have actually been in this type of situation, you have no right to judge and decide what Bella should do because you don't know the amount of pain a person has gone through and how hard it can be for them to come forward if they feel unsafe or unloved.
I promise this time, that I should update again by next week! I hope to see your reviews!