Three Cups of Coffee Later - Jayke Stone (best english novels to read .TXT) 📗
- Author: Jayke Stone
Book online «Three Cups of Coffee Later - Jayke Stone (best english novels to read .TXT) 📗». Author Jayke Stone
I knew I was in a hospital, that was obvious, but I didn’t know my way out. That scared me.
My phone was sitting on the table next to my bed.
I flipped the lid and turned it on.
The screen lit up, dimly, and I read the words “13th July”I’d been here asleep for over a month...
Why didn’t they just give up me?
I rose my head and looked around.
Everything was white.
There were six beds, three on each side of the room, each with a monitor and a curtain.
There weren’t any windows.
No way to escape but one tiny door...
No one was in the room but me. I guess they didn’t care enough to visit.
For the next ten minuets I amused myself by deliberately giving myself bad flashbacks to make the monitor beep faster... Unsurprisingly, no one worried or checked on me.
I checked my phone for messages.
“One New Message”.
I saw the name, it was from her.
I hesitated slightly, before opening it...
“Just forget about me, okay?”
Okay...
I didn’t care anymore. Why would I care?
It wasn’t my fault she left me, I was good enough for her, she just wasn’t that into me.
That’s not my fault. None of this was ever my fault.
My sudden good mood scared me a little...But I was okay with it.
I’m okay.
I miss my Mom, I miss my family, I miss my memories.
But it doesn’t matter.
I’m okay.
Dear DiaryDear diary,
Wait... Is that too childish? I mean, I'm 23, it's a little weird for me to have a diary in the first place...
Dear Journal?
I don't know... That still doesn't seem right...
Dear...peice of paper.
It's been three weeks since they let me out of hospital.
No therapy, no "good luck", not even a goodbye... They literally just kicked me out.
I know I said I was okay, and I've been doing okay, I guess...But it still sucks...
I can't get her stupid name out of my head. And for those who haven't quite understood yet, I am a lesbian. Thanks.
And I can still hear Mom's voice calling my name whenever I try to sleep...
I've been sleeping a lot though. I have nothing else to do.
I'm not alowed to work for another month, something about "clinically depressed". I don't know, I wasn't listening.
But if I go back to work I have to see her again. I don't want to do that. I love her, yeah, but I really hate her.
I hope she's doing okay, I hope she remembered me...
I feel numb. It's better than feeling like my heart was being ripped out via my lungs, but it's not great.
I realised that you know nothing about me, at all. Well, this is me...
I am 23, apparently I look 25 but I blame the cigarettes and sleepless nights for that.
I used to live with my Mom, she's not here anymore, but I still live in her house. It's not bad, but it makes missing her a thousand times worse to know that she once stood in every spot I stand in.
And my name is...
No. Screw names. I am me. You don't need me to have a name. It's not like you can talk back to me.
Every one that's known my name has ended up leaving. I don't have a name anymore.
I don't even know why I'm keeping this diary. The internet said it helps or something like that. I just find this a little weird. I'm talking to a peirce of paper.
I don't know where my life is going, but I know it's going somewhere other than a hospital bed, at least for now anyway. That's enough for me. I don't need some random stranger concelling me, telling me that I have problems. I don't need pills. I can do this. Not because someone on my blog said I can, not because my Mom used to tell me that I can, but because I want to do this.
Screw this diary. I don't need this.
I can do this.
ImprintPublication Date: 06-03-2015
All Rights Reserved
Comments (0)