HT 01 "Golden Day"

HT 01 "Golden Day"

A Chapter by dw817
"

I felt the weird whir-chk-chk in my head start up. My teeth started to chatter, and I knew I was ready to hurt someone now. But I kept it in check, like pushing down a mad stapler cutting into me.

"


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HELLO TOMORROW
#1 "Golden Day"

( From my placement in JPS and later, a mental ward )


© December 2013 Written by David Wicker
Please do not reprint without permission




* * *

This chapter is Rated: TEEN


I remember calling Mary at MHMR (Mental Health & Mental Rehabilitation). She was my psychiatrist. I -guess- I had everything ready. I was going to kill myself thoroughly and completely, and there was a reason for it. I kept doing what was, well - for lack of a better word, "time traveling."


Let me explain.


I would be anywhere at all, working on the computer, outside going to the store or something and then, right then, I would stop. And I guess have a seizure or something. I know I stopped breathing. I would then enter a beautiful and lovely memory from years ago.


But so vivid and so wonderful was this memory that it took control of me, completely, and I - smiled. And one was such that it was me and Dad getting ready to fly a kite. You may have noticed in Barrier that I refer to this scene when Dev is in deep depression. Well this time I was THERE, wholly and completely.


I smelled the coming of a rainstorm, the tug of the string on my kite, my Dad yelling to me from a distance to give it more thread, and the lingering scent of bologna sandwiches from a picnic we just had. The sky rumbled with thunder. Cool clearing rain, a rush ran up my spine.


The memory was so complete I had no knowledge of the future, the present to me.


And just as the vision couldn't be any more peaceful, I am YANKED, hard - straight from that vision to current day. And all you want to do is kill yourself to be in that memory again. A very emotional point.


Well, I told my psychiatrist this and the details and she said she would send someone by, but I didn't know when. I was to see Rose this Saturday (Nov 16th, 2013).


Then I was upstairs at the time, there came a heavy knocking at my door and I heard heavy shoes shuffling outside.


I asked who it was and they said, "Open up ! Fort Worth Police !"


I opened the door and sure enough, they were, two of them. They asked if I was having a problem. I said no. The younger one said, "Aren't you planning to kill yourself ?"


I nodded, then they said, "Well, we can't have that, can we ? Can I get you to step outside your apartment for a moment ? We'd like to talk with you."


At the time I just had my shorts on and no shirt. I said, "Sure, lemme get a shirt on tho."


The younger one spoke again, louder, "Do NOT enter your apartment, sir."


"Okay." I replied meekly enough.


Then I added, "Wait, you're a bit early, aren't you ? Golden Day isn't until Monday."


The older spoke, "Golden Day ? What is that ?"


I answered simply enough, "The day all pressure is released in my head."


He got the meaning. "You're not going 'golden' until Monday then ?"


"Right, you can return then." I added. "I want to have a nice day tomorrow with my G/F visiting."


He nodded and got brusque seeing unless I wanted to go now, they really couldn't do anything, "OK, well call us, you know how when you're having a problem. Just 3-digits, 9 1 and 1. Okay ?"


"Yessir."


"Good, we'll see you Monday then if not before."


And, I did indeed have a nice time visiting. My governess was concerned when I told her, but like before, I assured that Golden Day wasn't until Monday, and I was on a schedule and I wouldn't break it.


I saw Rose, she was concerned and said call 9 1 1 Monday morning just in case they forget. She also helped me QUITE a bit by getting a backpack all put together of things I would need in my stay there. Especially in labeling my socks and underwear with WICKER in bold letters on all items.


I saw Chris in the evening and he seemed completely uninterested in my suicidal thoughts except that he wanted to make sure we were having a nice time then. Perhaps - that is why I like Chris so much. He is the voice of reason and sanity when all else has failed those around him.


And then Monday came.


My Psychiatrist called me early, 8:30am. She asked if I still intended to do what I planned, I said yes. She said, okay, she's sending someone by to check up on me.


Hours later, about 10:15am, there was a light knocking at my door. I looked in the peephole, it appeared to be 4-policemen this time, in 2-different police cars.

* * *


I opened the door, but I was ready for them. I had my backpack all packed according to what Rose said I would need during my stay in the mental ward.


The policemen seemed confused though. The leader, a big muscular fellow was quiet and polite with me. He asked if they could come in. I let them. They could only stare at the massive Teddy Bear collection I had, which I admit had grown since last year.


Finally he spoke in a nice voice, "Can you tell me, David, why are we here ? All we know is we're supposed to be here for something important."


Perhaps it was the way he asked or the kindness in his voice, I replied back, that I wasn't really sure.


Then he added in a buddy tone, "Well, what did you have planned for today ?"


Then it was like a little memory bubble popped. I reached for the new box-cutter I got and started to slash my left wrist - when suddenly he grabbed my hand HARD, really hard !


I didn't fight him at all. The box cutter was dropped from my limp fingers and placed into a plastic bag and the hands that did it wore little plastic gloves like it was an exhibit for a court case, and likely it would be.


He continued to hold on to my hand and had a pleasant smile.


I gave him a look that I wasn't going to fight him, but he still kept a solid grip and continued to give me a supportive look - like I was going to be helped. And - I am reminded once again of a schism I have, of having my hand held. Whomever is holding it can lead me where they want with no restraint from me.


He apparently realized this and lifting the backpack, someone else put it in the trunk of the police car. He raised up and I followed after him, still in the hand-lock. I asked for Humphrey to carry, my bear from the backpack.


He said, that's fine. We want you to be comfortable.


I opened up the backpack and pulled out my bear. then He then handcuffed me from the front and asked me if I was ever in prison before.


I said no. How about being handcuffed ? Yes. When ? Several years ago for another suicide attempt. That's fine, he added. Then I was placed in the police car.


We traveled a bit of distance and finally to the emergency entry of John Peter Smith hospital. There I was checked thoroughly. I had on the nice rainbow bracelet Chris got for me, but little else.


Then it came time to take Humphrey. I really REALLY wanted to keep him. I put him in a corner and one policeman and the fellow who examined me earlier got quiet.


Then the nice policeman who cuffed me earlier entered. He spoke, "I guess you're afraid we're going to take your bear from you, right ?"


"Yessir." I said and felt the weird whir-chk-chk in my head start up. My teeth started to chatter, and I knew I was ready to hurt someone now. But I kept it in check, like pushing down a mad stapler with a piece of thin paper and getting stapled to the material nonetheless. I could almost feel the pressure in my head venting out my ears.


He said, "That's fine. But wouldn't your bear be safer in the backpack ? I promise you no-one will disturb it there."


I nodded, this seemed to make some sense. So I put Humphrey in the top of the pack. Quick as a wink, he zipped it up and took it away. DAMN ! I was furious now. But then they said if I keep fighting them this way they'll give me an injection and then I WILL BE QUIET.


I didn't want anything to do with that so I was silent and cooperative again knowing I would see my beloved bear later.


After a thorough body search, they finally they agreed I didn't have any blades or knives secreted about my person and sent me to a ward where JPS mental patients were. It was pretty bad. If there was ever a story about a pecking order, likely I would be the last on the list meaning I would be teased or taunted.


At the time I was glad I didn't have Humphrey from the hungry looks of the other inmates.


To be continued ...





END OF CHAPTER 1



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© 2013 dw817


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Reviews

Wait, this is a /real/ experience? God, this is really terrifying. Why take the bear away? And did they ever fix up the cut wrist wound? Slashed wrists can be really fatal..

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

dw817

10 Years Ago

I didn't get a chance to slash my wrist this time as the police officer took the razor from me. And .. read more
THis sounds really scary. I don't know why you weren't given a privite room where you could have kept your bear.

Posted 10 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

dw817

10 Years Ago

Gave more thought to why the policemen took my shoes. I'll write up a new chapter to it either tomor.. read more
Marie

10 Years Ago

You're doing very well. I could never write about my experiences.
dw817

10 Years Ago

Holding off on this new chapter until I get the movie-review post (backlogged from Tuesday).

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dw817
dw817

Fort Worth, TX



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