I blinked. "Who was that...?" I asked myself, "she was.. Wow". I kept walking. That first day on my own was the worst in my entire life. I kept walking, mostly because there wasn't anything else for me to do. The walking wasn't that bad. I could walk for days on end how ever after a couple hours I stared to get hungry. There was a restaurant. I checked my pockets "… noting but lint." I sighed. My stomach started to hurt. Yes doc may have been mean. But she let me eat her food. So I was seriously considering going back. I kept walking, trying to ignore the pain in my gut. Doc wouldn't let me back in, I had been gone too long. "She is probably turning my room into a lab as I speak." I sighed. Then I released. I may not be tired. But I was getting sleepily... Odd considering that I was hungry as well, and I dint have any money… so no hotel room, or food, so I kept walking. it was very very cold. I wished that I brought my jacket. I sat down and started to cry. "This was not how it was supposed to go…" I sobbed. I kept crying in complete misery thinking of how I would be able to kill myself. I tried poisoning myself, dints even get sick; I jumped of the tallest building I could find. All I got form that was a sprained ankle. Tried drowning myself, as it turns out I can filter out oxygen form water… yes kind of like a fish, expect I don't have gills, I tried slitting my wrists, they healed so fast I couldn't bleed out. "There's no ficking way out!" I shouted into the air. I grabbed my head, my cowlick was annoying me, so I started to rip my hair out. Yes I hurt, but not any more than when I sliced my arms "stupid, stupid, stupid!" I shouted as I yanked on it.
I did not pull that much out. I stopped pulling it. I felt my back pocket. I had my pocket knife. As many times that I had done what I was about to do. It became, instinct whenever I fell like this. I took my knife out and opened it. I stared at the blade for a moment, and then I rolled up my sleeve, as I have said I had sliced up my arms before… quiet often in fact. I found some space where I hadn't cut myself before I pressed the blade to my skin and was about to cut myself, then. Her face came into my mind. I lifted my knife. I did not want to hurt myself any more. At least right now. I got up and started walking again.