Where you belong - Samantha Thomas (i have read the book a hundred times .txt) 📗

closer to me and whispered into my ear, “Honey I know this is hard, but you gotta put on a good front, you act fine and normal and they wont have to drug you. Please,” she urgently insisted, sounding very much like she wanted that, that that was the only importance, like it was the answer to the universe.

Well I’m not all seeing or give a fuck. The world has done me wrong, and my heart is shattered and I’m being drugged for wanting to know the truth, and no one seems to think this scenario has any flaws or problems. Doesn’t anyone see that something wrong has happened? Something terrible has happened! That a baby has been taken?

The anger boiled up inside me and I shot my restrained body forward telling them to all “Go fuck yourselves!” as I struggled uselessly on in defiance, and pain the worst pain I have even known in my entire life. I wish my dad was here, I wish he was here so he could beat the shit out of me, until I passed out, because honestly it was better than this. I wished I was being abused more than anything right now, I wish he would punch me in my face, and rip my hair out, maybe it would feel better, take away all the anguish I feel now. Where is he now? Where is my father now? You’d think he’d love to be here, a front row seat to this horror movie. Why, I haven’t seen him since… the other day, he held Sunny while I signed those papers.

While I signed those papers…

“The great news you’ve been waiting for, I’ve found a home for your bastard.” -my dad had said to me that day that seemed like a thousand years ago. “THAT FUCKING BASTERD!” I screamed just as the familiar hot, slow sludge of drugs swam at the speed of light through my veins, putting me in another drug induced coma.


Chapter 5 Where you belong.


My eyes popped open, as soon as the thought hit my brain. Right in front of me, in that watchful chair sat not the expected security guard, but the kind nurse from before. I swallowed hard, my mouth completely dry, the parch reaching into my throat, I tried to swallow, but ended up coughing. The nurse took notice and jumped up approaching near. She hadn’t gone to me like I thought she would, but instead went and fetched me a glass of water, she poured and handed it to me. I gulped savoring the cool wetness as it quenched all the way down to my soul it seemed. I had finished so quickly I hadn’t known it was gone until I tipped it completely up and nothing came out, my tongue snaking out to collect, but coming up empty.

“I’ll get you some more, honey. It’s a nasty side affect from the narcotics.” she said softly as she took my cup and refilled it handing it back. Again it was gone to soon. I opened my eyes and swallowed trying to feel and clear my throat, before I spoke to her.

“Why are you here?” I asked hoarsely. My question seemed to have caught her off guard although she had to have been expecting it, hadn’t she? Her face scrunched up as if she had been taken a back, and I quickly thought that maybe I had spoken a bit more harshly than I had intended too. But all things considered, I didn’t let that show, I don’t give a flying fuck she was apart of that resistance, the people who held me against my will, drugged me, and ignored me and my cries for help over my stolen baby. My stolen baby, my heart felt as if it had been stabbed, just thinking that horrible thought and my breath caught, chest heaved out and a small sob escaped. I didn’t want this lady to see me falter like that, I had to be strong, I was alone and only had myself that much was very, very clear.

I had to reel myself in and fast, one more outburst like that and I’m back to reminiscent land with my father and the heavy corpse inducing drugs.

I steeled myself up and met her eyes again, “You don’t have to do that, not with me. Your safe for now,” she said. My face scrunched from shocked, to WHAT? To wanting to kick her ass in about two seconds flat, “What the hell did you just say to me? I’m safe? Safe? And my baby is she safe? If by safe you mean drugged to where I don’t even exist, my baby being stolen, taken from right out from under me without so much as a goddamned batted fucking eyelash, and chained to this fucking bed with a catheter and heavily guarded by security guards, then yeah I’m SO FUCKING SAFE! FUCK OFF BITCH!” I screamed at her, and she hadn’t said a word, her eyes crinkled at my vehemence, and she took a heavy step backwards. She closed her eyes on a unsteady exhale and tuned on her heels and left my room without so much as another word.

Then the security guard walked in and assumed his place, there in his blue hard plastic chair. I felt the familiar scowl creep onto my face, and I stared on at him, picking up his Maxim magazine, flipping to the same old warn picture of the same girl and gawking for hours, until now. He turned his gawk to me, he wore a nasty look on his face and I wasn’t sure if it was from reaction to my scowl, or something else but I began to feel incredibly uncomfortable. Incredibly. I averted my eyes staring down, at the only thing I could-my chest. And I stayed like that for sometime but I still felt his creepy gaze boring into me, I kept shuddering, my body shaking from the creep of it all and the cold.

I had no idea what day it was or how long I’ve been like this it was killing me. Everything was killing me, nothing made sense, how could any of this be happening? How could it? Without a shit load of intervention, thought out-well thought out plans, but that wasn’t the most important question. No that was this; what the hell was I going to do about any of it? Well the answer for now is not a damn thing. I’m 16 years old, just had a baby, my fathers an addict/alcoholic and completely absent and useless. In fact I’m most positive this is all because of him but how? There’s no way he’s smart enough, and if he is he’s not alone.

Every thought flitting in and out drove me closer to madness, to darkness, gaining speed, tainting my soul, torturing me with the very real realization that anything could happen to me, and that I wasn’t in control. I had no say. No one knows how I feel, cares what I say, I don’t exist to these people.

I couldn’t take the solitude, the loneliness, the abandonment that I have become. I mind as well have been locked up inside some pitch-black dungeon, cutoff from civilization as I knew it, because honestly it would be just the same.

Suddenly a call came in through his walkie-talkie, and he quickly answered seeming annoyed. Huh, I wonder what was going on? Once he received his reply he stood up and walked over to my bedside with a nasty sneer on his face as he said, “Seems you have a visitor,” and I’m sitting here thinking just what the heck is this guys problem with me? What is he anti teen mom? “Look, I don’t know what your problem is, but I never did anything to you man,” I said very emotionally, I was very upset at his demeanor towards me, “ Oh never huh? You didn’t attack me, that day you went bizerk? You clawed the shit outta’ my face you left these scars-” he said harshly pointing towards his face, I had noticed them but never did I once think that they came from me, “I’d say I have a hell of a lot to be resentful for. You crazy little bitch, you better watch your back. If you ever get out of here, and I see you-which I sincerely doubt they’ll let your crazy ass out- I will-” he has his hands up pounding them together, he was clearly insane, and very, very violent, bring it!- I thought, but didn’t get to express it neither did he because just then my visitor arrived.

It was a doctor, one I’ve never seen before. Insane rent-a-cop backed away, placing a very fake, very large smile on his creepy scarred face to pretend like he wasn’t just threatening my life, or acting completely violent in any shape way or form. Yeah ok pal, I’ve seen it all you don’t scare me, that much. But then just as I thought that I knew without a doubt that I was indeed terrified, he guarded my room 24/7 no one else came in and that meant he could do whatever to me whenever. I was never safe, and I was at his mercy, because if he really wanted he could, and I’m sure if the wind blew him that way he would. There was nothing I could do, there was never anything I could do about anything.

The doctor strode over and came to stop just at my bedside. He extended his hand to me introducing himself, “Hello Miss Hart. My name is Doctor Prashant Jha, and I’m your psychiatrist.” he said in a very quiet tone, but his eyes said all that he needed to say. ‘I’m a narcissistic asshole and I don’t think, I know I am better than you.’ I immediately hated him, but I really didn’t have a choice in the matter of anything really so on I sat, evermore angrier than before. Evermore resentful, spiteful, and disgustedly helpless and insignificant.

“Now, I want to start with nothing heavy of course there is plenty of time for that, but just the basics. Alright?” he said in that condescending tone of his. Where the hell do these people get off? Who the hell do these fuckers think they are? “First let me tell you, you don’t know shit, about shit. So take your self and remove it from my fucking chair and then take your clean fucking clip board and go fuck yourself with it. Thanks, come back soon!” I said with as much vehemence and seethe I could muster.

He took a small breath, taken aback at my spitefulness, but who cares really? And he didn’t really move or flinch besides that, he might have gripped his clip board a little tighter but other than these observations nada. Suddenly his brows deepened and his dark eyes took on a dark look before quickly disappearing and he said, “I’m going to pretend that didn’t happen and move on from that, I suggest you do the same for your sake. You know, that type of unstable behavior can really be cause for deep medication, and much needed mental therapy. I was under the impression that we needn’t go that route but upon further examination I’m suddenly not so sure, what