A/N: Ahh! Reviews are amazing, as always. I have the story planned out now, so I might be updating more often, or I might just stay at a normal pace and figure out how to write what I want to write. In the beginning of the story, it was written in present tense, just pretend that it's always been past-tense, otherwise the whole thing will be screwed. Now, this is the part in the story when Jude actually becomes insane, not just a ruse to hide her emotions. This is not the last chapter, but it is the end of part of the story. You'll understand next chapter. It's kind of short, but I hope the writing makes up for it. I loved writing it, now I hope you like reading it. Enjoy.
-Edie
You said you couldn't come that day, but that you would come on the next visiting day. So when you didn't come, I was bored, lying in my bed, and waiting for the four days till the next visiting time to pass by quickly. I stared up at the ceiling, since that's all you can really do here once the crayons are worn out, and thought about you. And everything else that I had been keeping inside of me for so long.
When you start thinking about things like that, and how the world really is getting pretty horrid, it catches up to you if you usually aren't paying attention to that stuff. I think that's what happened to me. I was laying in my bed, and I started thinking of how many arguments are happening in different countries at the moment. How politically we were pretty much crashing. And how people can be so horrible to actually murder people. It was all catching up to me that my life isn't good, that it's pretty bad. I didn't see my parents anymore, they had abandoned me when they found out I was insane, and I didn't see Sades anymore either, she had gone off to college and never came to visit her ruthless family. I was in an asylum, laying on a stiff bed that springs poked out of, and I still hadn't been diagnosed as to how I was crazy.
Yep, things weren't exactly going uphill for me. So I cried.
Well, I didn't really cry. It was more like sobbing. I heaved and heaved over the edge of my bed. And I didn't have any idea why at the time, but later that night I would discover it was because I had never paid any attention to all of the emotions that were wound up inside of me, and now that I was, they wanted to let loose. And so I let them. Doctors tried to stop my crying, but I persisted and told them it would be good for me. It couldn't have been that easy for them to understand what I was saying because my voice was so broken up, but they left anyway.
And this, is the point that I've been leading up to the entire time I've been writing this. The point where I broke. This is the point where I realized that I actually did belong in an asylum, and that the doctor's diagnosed me with abnormal depression and emotional ignorance, or something like that. This was the point in my life when everything turned from a cover-up, to real. This was the part where I can honestly say I was scared shitless.