A/N: Here's a short chapter to explain what the heck was going on in the last chapter. Important A/N at the end!
Disclaimer: I don't own Kickin' It.
I wake up to the beeping of some kind of machine and fluorescent lights above me. Something warm is touching my hand. When I turn to look, they say, "Oh, Kim! You're awake!" It's my mom. My dad is next to her. They're both crying.
"Oh, my sweet Kimmy. We were so worried about you," he says.
"What happened?" I ask, hoping they know who shot Jack and that they arrested that asshole.
"You fainted at school. Malnutrition and sleep deprivation. Kim, you should have talked to us about this," my dad says.
"Yeah, honey. It's okay. An eating disorder is a hard thing to talk about, we understand that, but you should have told us—"
"Eating disorder? What are you guys talking about? Do you even know what happened before I fainted? Why my clothes were covered in blood?" I ask.
My parents glance at each other and look back at me with confusion. My mom leaves the room while my dad squints and asks, "Why were your clothes covered in blood, Kim?"
"Because someone got shot! They didn't tell you about this?" I question.
My dad shakes his head. My mom walks back into the room with a doctor with a stubbly beard and a cane. My dad says, "Kim, why don't you tell us what exactly happened before you passed out."
"I was in detention. I realized my clothes were covered in blood, but it wasn't my blood, because another kid got shot. He told me to run as fast as I could and not to look back, even though I wanted to help him, but he told me not to worry about him so I did what he said and ran outside. Do you know who shot him? Is he okay?"
The doctor replies in a gravelly voice, "Hallucinations are a common symptom of sleep deprivation."
"I didn't hallucinate it! He talked to me!" I say.
"Kim, your clothes are here, and they're all clean," my mom tells me.
"What? Well, I might have hallucinated the blood on my clothes, but I didn't hallucinate him talking to me. That was real. That had to be real," I say.
"Little girl, nobody was shot," the doctor tells me.
"What happened after I passed out?" I ask.
My mom replies, "Someone called 911 and stayed with you until the ambulance arrived."
"Who was it?"
"The paramedics said he left right when they arrived, so they didn't get a chance to talk to him," my doctor informs me. It must have been Jack. That sounds like something he'd do. "Now I need to ask your daughter a few questions in private, so I need you to leave," he says to my parents. This guy has awful bedside manner. They nod, smile at me, and leave the room. My doctor sits down and says, "Insomnia and loss of appetite are symptoms of depression. Here's a card for a psychologist," he says, handing me a small card with the psychologist's information on it. "I'm not allowed to tell your parents, you know, doctor-patient-confidentiality, but you should tell them. That is, if you ever want to get better. I don't think a 16 year old girl would be able to handle all that paperwork and money stuff for a brain doctor all by herself. Also, don't self medicate, unless you want to make it worse and add addiction to your list of problems." He pulls a pill container out of his jacket pocket, pops a couple pills into his mouth, stands up with the support of his cane, and leaves. How has this guy not been fired?
I'm finally home. It's Monday morning. I had to stay at the hospital over the weekend so they could tube-feed me nutrients to get me back to health. I have no idea how I'm going to get myself to fall asleep. I told my parents I was staying up at night watching Netflix. I didn't take the doctor's advice, so my parents think I'm all better now. They gave me this whole talk about how I should have a positive body image and how I looked better before I started 'starving myself.' I went along with it and said I'd start eating again. A week ago I'd tell them everything, but now... I feel like I'm on my own.
My parents made me stay home from school today, and this time I didn't argue. Going to school, interacting with people, focusing in class… I just don't have the energy or the motivation to do it. The gang asked to visit me at the hospital, but I told them not to come because I didn't feel well. I really just didn't want to explain what was wrong with me. I'm hoping I can avoid that conversation and they'll just forget about it.
I'm extremely bored. Watching Netflix is not enough to keep my mind off everything. The thought that keeps tormenting my brain is the hallucinations I had during detention. It all felt so real. Jack's words are still ringing through my ears; I can hear him telling me to run and to never look back. I can still see all the blood, the vibrant red blood flowing from the bullet wound on his side, staining his white T-shirt. Why would I hallucinate that? Did it have anything to do with my memories?
I need to stop thinking about this. I need something to calm the storm of incoherent thoughts in my mind. I feel so on edge yet so lethargic; I'm bored but I have no motivation to do anything. Lately I've been thinking that it would be easier if I just stopped existing. This is another piece of advice from that doctor that I'm going to ignore: I'm going to find drugs.
It's getting kind of dark, I know. Kick moments coming up soon, I promise!
Question: are any of my readers sensitive to content including violence, suicide, mental illness, substance abuse, etc? That's not what the story is all about, but there might be some realistically dark scenes that are important for character development.
Shoutout to Vicky2015 for catching that Kim was hallucinating! Also shoutout to all my other reviewers!
If anyone can guess who this doctor is, he's from a different show, but he is hilariously sarcastic.