It's quiet. Your mind is shattered. You must've blacked out again. Fuck, one year later and we're back to square one: A traumatized, mentally disturbed, depressed lump of shit, victims of their awful abuse. I can't do this anymore...
"Hey, babe? Are you awake?" the sound of a familiar voice called to Justin.
"Uh... W-What?" he said, awakening from his unconscious state. When he finally came to, he saw his girlfriend, Tiffany Maye, sitting next to him.
He then realized that he was not at home, but in a bed attached to some wires, as well as hearing the faint sounds of a monitor beeping. All he could feel was pain in his stomach, and an awful migraine in his head.
"So, here we are again." the blondie stated, not happy about the situation.
"What are you talking about?" he asked, wondering what she meant.
She sighed. "You overdosed on sleeping pills again. I wasn't looking forward to coming back to work this early."
He frowned, feeling guilt for what he had done. Tiffany had just gotten off from work at CC General, so he could imagine the frustration she was feeling for having to immediately drive back.
"I'm sorry, Tiffany." he said, sounding as if he were on the verge of tears.
"It's fine. You just... I should've been more aware. After last week, I probably could've guessed that this was going to happen sooner or later."
He frowned again, knowing that this was still his fault.
"H-How did it get THIS bad?" Tiffany said, about to have a breakdown.
Hearing her get emotional was very difficult for his ears to handle. She was always the optimistic, supportive, sweet and caring girl he met over three years ago. But it seemed like he was starting to become a burden to her.
"It happens." he said, trying brush it off like it was nothing.
"This isn't normal. Babe, listen to me. The way you've been acting lately has been making me worried sick about you. You REALLY need therapy."
He wanted to brush it off, but he knew he was basically in a corner this time around.
"I... I..."
"No, don't even say it. No excuses. Babe, I love you! Audrey loves you, Nikki loves you, and MY MOM loves you. I never told her about last week. I didn't want to ruin her good mood. She finally quit smoking. Do you know how heartbroken she'd be if she found out that you were hurting yourself?"
He sat there, realizing that she was right. But he also knew that he had his own problems to worry about, some of which he had yet to fully open up and tell her.
"Do you know what had happened to me?" he asked.
"Yeah, I know. You were locked up for almost two years, you cut ties with a lot of people, and you were abused. I know this. And trust me, not being able to see you for a long period of time was definitely heartbreaking."
Does she REALLY know what I went through?
"Tiffany, there's a bunch of stuff I've been through. You'll find out soon enough." he said, sounding ominous.
The blondie shrugged, still upset about this situation.
"You need therapy, Justin. I can't keep giving you pep talk every time you feel like hurting yourself. I'm a nurse, not a therapist."
"I don't need therapy. I'm fine." he said, obviously contradicting himself.
"Fine? FINE? Someone who's fine doesn't cut themself. Someone's who's fine doesn't overdose on sleeping pills and hit their head on the coffee table. You're not fine."
He frowned, knowing that the jig was up. The sudden shift in tone that he started showing finally caught up. The secret was out, he was back to square one.
Suddenly, a familiar doctor walked in.
"Mr. Justin?" the balding man asked.
"Beckman." he replied, not sounding happy to see his girlfriend's sleazy boss.
"Hi, Howard." Tiffany greeted, referring to him by his first name.
Of course, Justin didn't take kindly hearing his girlfriend greet her boss like he was her friend.
"How are you feeling, Sir?" he asked him.
"I feel like shit. Thanks for asking." he said, being sarcastic.
"Babe, come on now." Tiffany said, trying to make him be a little more respectful.
Beckman looked at a clipboard, reading something out loud.
"Justin Dark, age 23, born on December 14th. Patient has a history of bipolar disorder, depression, suicidal tendencies, post-traumatic stress, and mild autism."
He nodded, begrudgingly agreeing to those statements, especially the last one.
"Patient had attempted suicide from overdosing on sleeping pills. System had to be flushed. Patient also suffered a hemorrhage from hitting his head on a hard surface, in this case, a coffee table. Now suffers from a head wound."
He nodded again, understanding what had happened.
"Is he going to be OK?" the blondie asked.
The doctor looked at his papers, seeing what treatment he needed.
"He should be fine, but due to the circumstances, he will have to be on suicide watch for the next two weeks. I've also prescribed some pain relievers for the head wound, which you will need to monitor for him."
She nodded, knowing why it had to be this way.
Beckman then pulled up a stool, beginning to do vitals.
"So, Mr. Justin? How would you feel about getting therapy?" the doctor said, looking into his eyes with a light.
"I'm not interested, Beckman." he replied.
Beckman finished the eye exam, switching over to look into his ears.
"Why not? Nurse Maye is highly concerned about you."
"Because I don't trust you."
He finished the ear exam, pulling out his stethoscope.
"You can trust me, Sir. I just want what's best for you. Breathe in deeply."
He breathed in, not replying to Dr. Beckman's manipulative smooth talk.
"I know how you doctors work. You all work with THEM." he said, being completely vague as to who he was talking about.
"Not with them, but for them. I know what you've experienced in Greenseed." he said, bringing up a horrible name that triggered several different flashbacks.
"Don't EVER say that word again." he said, suddenly shifting to a more aggressive tone.
"Justin, calm down. He wants to help you." Tiffany stated.
He shook his head, disregarding any hope he might have in his life.
"Help me? He can't help me after what they did. He doesn't know what they did."
"I don't? Perhaps if you attended my therapy sessions, I may have a better understanding as to what YOU experienced."
He thinks he's a smooth talker, eh? No doubt he'd report me to their CEO or some shit.
"I'll think about it, okay?" he said, trying to get Beckman off his back.
The doctor smiled, happy that he seemed to take some kind of effect on his judgement.
"I'll take it. Well, I'm going to get the nurse in here to check your blood pressure. You can discharge tomorrow morning." he said in an optimistic tone.
Tomorrow morning? No few day psych ward? No med adjustments? Nice... I think.
"Eh, thanks."
"Don't mention it. I'll see you later, Tiffany." the doctor said, referring to the blonde nurse by her first name.
He left the room. Now, it was just him and his worried girlfriend.
She grabbed his hand, knowing that he was in a lot of pain, both mentally and physically
"It'll be OK." she said, trying to reassure him.
He looked down with a bit of sorrow on his face. He knew he was completely messed up since he left the place. But there were still so many untold secrets never shared. If the Commotion City police department were reliable, he would've reported them a long time ago. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case.
Eventually, Tiffany decided to go. She had already spent enough time in the hospital for one day, even outside of her work shift.
"I'll pick you up tomorrow morning, okay?" she said, kissing him on the forehead.
She started to walk away, but he said something that caught her off guard.
"I love you."
She turned around, feeling a strange sense of Deja vu.
"I-I love you too. I really hope you get better. We all really care about you."
He smiled, still happy that they were together after 8 months of commitment, even after all of this.
JD went to sleep that night, hearing nothing but the sound of a heart rate monitor. He wasn't sure what was in store for him. But the only thing he wish he had was his phone.
I'm so fucked up...