Chapter Nineteen
Dr. Murphy's Notes
As I've said before, Ponyboy Curtis is one of the strangest cases I've ever seen, and he just gets stranger. It seems like he's been more and more depressed every day since Aurora's death. He's taking it very hard, she was like his sister. For the first several days after she died, he did nothing but cry. He made himself sick with all the crying. He's better now, but only psychically. Psychologically, however, he's sicker than ever before.
We've been giving him anti-depressants, and we thought he was taking them but when the maid was changing the sheets today, she found seven anti-depressant pills in his pillowcase. He misses breakfast every morning, and he's almost always late to lunch and dinner. He also seems tired. He used to be a morning person, but I've been having to wake him up on mornings when he has sessions, and then he dozes off while we're talking. He's also been avoiding people as much as he can. He hides out in the bathroom most of the time. We're considering moving his roommate, Leonardo, to another room, but we don't know if that will do any good. Pony probably wouldn't even notice. I found some pictures that he drew, and I was extremely disturbed by them. They were different drawings of a guy that looked like Pony doing suicide in different ways. Stabbing himself, shooting himself, hanging, him lying next to an empty bottle of pills. The words 'I wish I was dead' were written several times on the page.
Recently, he's been acting happier, but that doesn't fool me. He just wants to get out of here so he can kill himself. I'm actually afraid for him; I've never felt that way about a patient. Besides cutting that one time he hasn't tried to harm himself in any way, but I know he wants to. If he cuts himself again, we'll have to move him to Hammacher. I don't want that to happen to him.
But I'm afraid it will.
Now
They found my drawings; the ones of me killing myself. Dr. Murphy wasn't mad; he said that he was more scared than anything. I guess that I won't be able to get out of here now, at least not for a while. I'll just have to suffer longer. I think if they knew how badly I want to die, and how much I was suffering, they would give me a lethal injection, like they did to Aurora. I just don't care about anything anymore; I don't even care about Darry and Soda. I used to, but then I just stopped. The only thing I care about now is dying. I want death to come, wrap me in its cold embrace and take me away. The closest think I can get to death is sleeping, but with sleep comes nightmares. When you're dead, you can't dream.
I wish I was dead.
The bell rang; the one that tells us to go to dinner. I'm not hungry, I'm never hungry anymore. Maybe I'll die if I don't eat. I hope so. I lay down on my bed; I could at least try to sleep. I can never get enough sleep, I'm always tired. I was just starting to drift off to sleep when I felt someone shaking me.
"Pony, get up now." It was Dr. Murphy.
"I don't feel good," I said.
"Do you want to go to the infirmary?" Dr. Murphy asked. He sounded mad.
"Could I sleep?" I asked hopefully.
"No. You're coming to dinner, now," Dr. Murphy said. He was really mad.
"Ok, ok, I'm getting up," I said. I was still wearing all my clothes, so I didn't need to get dressed.
Dr. Murphy walked with me until I got to the cafeteria, and he left once I'd gotten something to eat and I'd sat down. As soon as he left, I got up and threw my food away. I wasn't eating, they couldn't make me. As I was sitting down, my hand scraped against something sharp. It was a piece of metal sticking out from the table. It was about to fall off. I wanted more than anything to break the piece of metal off the table and cut myself with it. The last time I cut myself I got caught, but maybe somehow I could cut and not get caught. Are there cameras in the cafeteria? I decided it was worth the chance and I broke the piece of metal off the table and quickly put it in my jeans pocket. I hoped I'd be able to cut myself with it. It would make me feel so much better.
Dr. Murphy's Sessions with Ponyboy Curtis
DM: What's wrong, Pony?
PC: What do you mean?
DM: It's like you're more and more depressed every day.
PC: That's how I feel.
DM: I'm worried about you. Those pictures you drew could only have come from somebody with a very disturbed mind. They were obviously a cry for help.
PC: I don't want help, I want to die.
DM: You were pretending to feel better so you could get out of here, am I right?
PC: It didn't fool you, huh?
DM: No.
PC: I hoped it would.
DM: Why did you want to trick me, Ponyboy? Why do you want to get out of here?
PC: I already told you, I want to die.
DM: Why do you want to die?
PC: Life isn't worth it without Aurora. You don't know how much I'm hurting. I'm tired all the time, I'm never hungry, and I just don't care anymore. It's hard to get out of bed in the morning. What's the point?
DM: I see.
PC: No you don't. You'll never see. You don't understand.
Here there is a long pause
DM: Pony, are you awake?
PC: I wish I wasn't.
Here there is a long pause
PC: I'm miserable.
DM: I'm sorry. I wish you'd let me help you.
PC: There's nothing you can do.
Here there is a long pause
PC: I want to go back to sleep.
DM: Our time is up, you can go.
End Tape
