Chapter 2: Spread Your Wings

James becomes hospitalized and obsessed with a very dangerous idea.

I opened my eyes to find that I was once again in a hospital room. I looked at the wrist I slit open, it was neatly stitched together and didn't seem to hurt. When I sat up, I noticed two differences from the last hospital visit. One was that my mom was nowhere in sight, and the other was that there was an IV in my arm. I wondered what they were giving me through the IV. Was it Morphine? Fluids? Was it because of blood lose? Pain?

Not long after I woke up my mom entered the room, followed by a doctor. As my mom approached me, she kissed me on the forehead. The look in her eyes was devastation or maybe guilt, I couldn't tell. The doctor began by asking the same questions as last time, then he added some more specific ones: Did you make the cut on your own? Yes. Do you feel depressed? I didn't know how to answer that one. I feel sad but only because of the voices. So I said no. Have you ever cut yourself before? No. Then he asked me why I did it. My heart skipped a beat. I had no idea what to say, I wanted to tell him about the voices but I couldn't put him in danger like that. I hesitated and told him that I wasn't sure. He didn't seem convinced, but he moved on.

After a few more questions, he told me that the cut was more of a wound. The blade went deep enough to scrape the bone, and a tendon was severed. He said that they were able to cauterize it, reconnect the tendon and stitch up the wound. Then he said that an ambulance was waiting on me. I was confused, why would I need an ambulance if I was stitched up? He told me that I was going to be hospitalized at St. Micheal's Psychiatric Facility.

My jaw dropped, I looked at my mom and saw tears running down her face. I jumped off the hospital bed and asked her what he was talking about. She said it was just to keep me safe for a little while. I was so confused, I didn't know what to do, so I cried. The doctor left the room and gave my mom and I a moment to talk. 

I asked her why they were able to admit me without my consent. She told me that since I am a danger to myself and only seventeen, she signed a form to admit me. I felt betrayed, but she assured me that she would come to see me as often as she could. She told me she would pack some clothes for me when she got home and would bring them tomorrow, since all I had for clothes right now was a hospital gown and the sweatpants I came in. Because they threw away my bloody shirt when they cut it off to get to give me the stitches.

The doctor came back a moment later to walk me out. He directed my mom and I to the exit where two EMT guys were waiting with a stretcher. They laid me down in the stretcher and my mom kissed me with tears rolling down her face. She quietly whispered an apology, right before I was rolled into the ambulance.

The drive was short and the EMT guys were talking to me the whole time about sports and high school. When we reached St. Micheal's, I was wheeled out of the ambulance and into the building. After a few turns we reached the admissions building where my mom was waiting. The EMTs turned me over to the admission nurses, and the nurses took my vital signs. Then told me to take a seat, so I looked around the large waiting room and went to sit next to my mom.

After awhile, someone came over and took my mom and I into a small room. We sat down and the lady introduced herself as Mary, then she began asking questions about why I came to the hospital, so I told her. I told her everything, I let it all out. My mom looked scared and in shock, it was her first time hearing about this too. Mary was taking notes the whole time and kept asking for more specifics. 

When she finally finished asking her questions, she asked my mom a bunch of questions about insurance. After the questions, we were directed back to the waiting room where we waited for about an hour until I fell asleep.

I was woken up by two mental health workers from the adolescent unit . One was about my height and was strongly built with a medium length, bushy haircut. The other was tall, black and bald. The taller one introduced himself as Nathan, and the other one said his name was Jim. My mom said her goodbyes and the two mental health workers led me around a few turns and up a set of stairs, until we stopped at a large electronically locked door.

Jim used a small keycard to open the door, and I walked into the unit. I was scared and nervous, I wasn't sure what to expect. As I walked down the hallway, I noticed there were five doors that led to the units bathrooms. Then Jim and Nathan stopped me for a body-check. First they used a handheld metal detector, then they patted me down. Once they were finished they guided me from the hall to the main room, which consisted of two long tables with chairs at each, and there were a lot of doors that were numbered except for one in the middle.

I asked Jim what the numbers were for, he told me that each door with a number is a bed room which each could hold two patients. I counted the doors, five rooms, which makes up to ten patients. He said the other door led to a large group room which the kids were in.

Nathan guided me to my room, room 7. He said that I was in the bed closest to the window, and that I wouldn't have a roommate yet. He told me I could just stay in my room since it was almost bed time. I figured I could save the meet and greet for the morning, so I hopped into my bed and pulled the blanket over me.

I tried hard not to think about anything and to just go to sleep, but I had this weird feeling on my back. Almost like an itch, then the voices began telling me that I had wings. That my wings haven't come out yet, and that they were there. This went on for about an hour until I gave in, I mean that would make sense. Hell it was the only thing that really made sense. 

The voices told me that if I scratched at my back enough, my wings will come out and I'll be free. So I decided that that would be a good idea, and I went at it. I dug my nails into my skin on my back and pulled up hard. I had to keep scraping dead skin out from under my nails every once in a while. Blood was dripping down my back and I could feel the warm blood on my fingers. 

Then I heard the door open and a staff saw what I was doing. He approached me as the voices told me that he was part of the plot. "What plot?" I thought to myself for a second, then they said that he was part of the plot to get my wings. And it made so much sense somehow, so as he got closer, I yelled, "get away, you can't have them!" 

More staff came in the room and I backed up into the corner of the room, as the voices told me that they were all part of the plot. I yelled and I howled for them to back off. One got close and I kicked him in the gut. Then the staff rushed at me and tried to restrain me. After some fighting, they had me in some hold I couldn't struggle out of.

The staff restrained me on this stretcher-like bed and rolled me into a white, padded room. I struggled so hard to get out, but nothing worked, and eventually I tired myself out and fell asleep. 

Author's Note

please inform me of any grammar errors!
Also any ideas to make this better will gratefully be accepted.
enjoy!
let me know what you guys think :D

Reviews

[Chaz Hemsworth]

This whole story is that kind of disturbing that makes you want to look away but you just can't. This had real potential to be used a mental health awareness book if you tried. There are a few errors grammatically, like the sentence Because they had taken my bloody shirt. But as a book it is great.

[a schizophrenic writer]

thank you! and ill have to go back and error correct it soon

[Mockingbird]

hi. i read both chapters and found it well written. it was a quick read, but i think it's because you really draw in the reader. you're a great storyteller. the content is frightening and disturbing in some parts. it is elucidating for what onset to schizophrenia is like and how it just consumes you so rapidly. i always wondered what went on inside their head. i can only get a glimpse of what paranoia is like and what it can do to you from your story. it shows me the motivation for some of their actions.i know what it's like to have to go to the hospital. i have different issues, but i made many friends who were schizophrenic and they are the nicest people one could meet. thank you for your raw honesty.

[a schizophrenic writer]

thanks for the review, and the story is fictional, but is inspired by my life

[cycy]

this chapter is great too hey, enjoyed reading i. kept me guessing as well, on to the next one :)

[a schizophrenic writer]

Thank you! the next one should be out in another day or two!

[cycy]

aytie..can't wait..hurry already, lol, i'm bad with suspense

[a schizophrenic writer]

Im pretty busy this week but im trying :P

[Katherine R.]

Not sure if there are errors. For once, I wasn't a grammar nazi.

Love this! It provides an excellent look into the mind of a schizophrenic. I'm learning.
It just makes so much sense.

[a schizophrenic writer]

thank you very much! Third chapter is on it's way!

[Katherine R.]

Yay! Can't wait!

[Tennessee]

Good kid. Same, add some more details like what is the tones of these voices, man or woman or creature, what does the scene look like, and well you know. I enjoyed it again and I am looking forward to reading more.

[a schizophrenic writer]

thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.