Chapter 4
Emmett
“It wasn’t on purpose.”
I hide the shake to my hands and ignore the rolling of my burning stomach as my nurse for the night shakes her head at me with a disapproving dip to her brow.
It’s one I know all too well. The very same I see aimed at me from every person that’s ever been around me for more than a few minutes.
“My precious nephew.” Her eyes shine when she says it. “I want to believe you.”
Sighing deep, she taps at the computer before scanning my new bracelet.
“Then believe me,” I murmur and cross my arms.
It’s cold. I’m shivering despite the third blanket my aunt brought in for me, yet my stomach is like a ball of burning acid only found in the pits of hell.
I feel hungover, though I have no idea what that’s actually like.
I’d tell her. Ask her for something to ease the discomfort.
But it’s just that. Uncomfortable.
I’m used to that.
“Sweet, sweet boy.” She turns to me, giving me that disappointed look that I have seen before full on, making my stomach roll all over again.
This should be over, being a disappointment. I shouldn’t be here.
But saying that out loud last time got me pink slipped and sent to mental health clinic that’s since closed down. It was pointless, the three weeks I spent there, because I came out with a new attachment to a different pill and even more depression than when I went in.
Guess I can’t even take myself out the right way.
“Help me understand because I don’t.”
I sigh.
“It’s not up to me to teach you how to deal with a depressive and anxiety-ridden narcissist that has self-harm tendencies. You’re the professional.”
“Precious boy, listen to me.” She grabs my hand in her warm one and I want to enjoy it. I want to feel it seep into my bones and ease some of this hatred I harbor. Let the love she thinks she has for me set me free from the shit in my head.
Except, none of this is real.
She’s not even my actual aunt.
Just some long lost friend to my once thriving mother.
“You are not half of those things you mentioned.”
I scoff.
“I am all of those things, thank you. At least I’ve accepted them.”
It makes it easier to justify my actions. Things like taking pills to stay alive while also wanting so goddamn bad to take them all and make it stop.
The thoughts. The pain.
The undeniable ache that I don’t belong on this planet with people like my aunt.
