Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
It’s the one thing I’m grateful to my foster parents for. They signed the paperwork so I could drop out of school and take the test. Even my case manager was okay with it since she’d rather I have a high school equivalent than being in trouble for truancy. I knew I wouldn’t have a problem with the test; I’ve always been pretty smart. My grades and apathy caused others to doubt my ability to pass the test however.
I hated school; hated what it stood for. It was nothing but a cesspool for mean kids to get together every day and treat people they felt were below them like shit. I was on that list for no other reason than the fact that I was a foster kid. They’d taunt me; tell me I was worthless. That I must be horrible if my parents didn’t even want me. They assumed that my parents gave me up, awarded my custody to the state. I wonder if they knew the truth if their opinions would change. Probably not.
Alec was on their list. He was hot, like Ricky Martin hella sexy hot. Their problem with him? He never gave any of the girls a second look. If he wasn’t interested he must be gay. Well at least they got something right. The guys more than the girls treated him horribly.
We were both outcasts and much like people who are different from the ‘in-crowd,’ we gravitated to each other. When the plan to pretend we were a couple started I can’t even remember. It just sort of evolved over time for the most part. The torture from the guys ceased. Not so much from the girls. Women are relentless when it comes to things they don’t like. They will literally lose sleep in order to think of better ways to torture one another.
Pretending to be in a relationship with Alec was easy. I loved him, even if it was as just a friend. Most people didn’t look hard enough to tell the difference. I don’t even try to keep the tears from falling as I flip through pictures of us on my phone. What have I done in my life to warrant such bad luck? Everyone I love dies.
I hear a soft knock on the door. Before I can answer, the door is shoved open, and the emo nurse from earlier comes in. She doesn’t say a word as she swaps the empty IV bag with a full one. I hear the empty bag land in the trash with a thud. Nurse Emo makes her way to the sink and washes her hands.
“There aren’t many pills you can get on the street, even with a prescription these days that are strong enough to kill you.” She’s applying more eyeliner to her already heavily covered eyelids. “Zolpidem sure as hell isn’t one of the few. You’d have to have a couple bottles at least to do the deed.”
What. The. Fuck?
Is she trying to help me out for next time or tell me I’m an idiot for even trying? So much for the Hippocratic Oath. Do nurses even take that oath or only doctors?
“They just make you sick as hell and land you in the hospital for a couple days. Well,” she says finally turning from the sink and looking me in the eye, “it could be longer than a couple of days. That all depends on what the head doctor thinks after you talk to him.”
She walks out and closes the door softly behind her. This has to be the weirdest day of my life. First the interloper biker and now the nurse who practically just gave assisted suicide information.
She mentioned medications that are available by prescription from the pharmacy, but I know there have to be even stronger meds in this hospital. I let my mind wander and concoct a ridiculous plan to steal drugs from the hospital to finally carry out my plan.
I have two choices; kill myself before I have to meet with the shrink or get out of here before he visits. I’m a horrible liar. Alec used to tell me that all the time. So if he talks to me, I know he’ll keep me in here, and in the psych ward, there’d be no way to get ahold of anything to hurt myself.
If I weren’t so tired, I’d get up and walk out of here right now. I close my eyes and wait. I’ll get a few hours of sleep and then make my escape. No sense in attempting another suicide in a hospital; the very place that has all of the resources to bring me back. I need a quiet place, a place where there’s no chance of a rescue.
***
Waking up in the hospital is like déjà vu. I’m disoriented, but my memories flood back much quicker this time. My throat is still pretty sore, but nothing like it was yesterday. Once again my eyes open to meet the knowing chocolate eyes of a biker.