Generally, I still wanted to die. And slowly meeting Austin kind of slipped away and my only thought was to die. I started getting afraid, very afraid. So one night I gathered as much money as I had and slipped out the door. I thought I was going to die, but I didn't find my feet going in that direction. Instead it went straight to a bus stop and I found myself riding to a hospital. I was scared. It was really windy that night and the bus rocked back and forth as it drove and the moon shone so brightly it was like the sun.
When I got to the hospital I considered not going in, but then I got determined. I did not want to die. So I went in and told the person at the front desk that I wanted to kill myself, and they made me take out my shoelaces (even though I don't see how that would help) and thy checked my pockets for anything sharp and they took the money and some paper clips I had stored and said that they would hold me for a week. Then they asked my parents phone numbers. I told it to them but when they asked if I wanted to see them I said no. I really didn't feel like it at that moment. So I sat on the bed they gave me in a room that I shared with this other teenager who mainly stared at a wall.
I didn't like it there. I mean, it smelled like bleach and it felt like death. The first day was like hell. I woke up pretty early and then went to get breakfast with all the other people there and they gave me a schedule. Which mainly looked like: art time, talking about your feelings time, and talking about your feelings with a group of other people. When I sat at the table and nibbled at some toast but since they didn't know I was anorexic because they weren't given the notes by Ashley, I wasn't forced to eat. I just said I wasn't all that hungry because I was nervous. I knew I would regret it later, but I actually was nervous.
This one guy leaned over to me and told me about everyone and he walked me to different places. He had a deep slit that has across his neck. He was the nicest guy I had ever meet before. There was another girl who had some scratches on her wrists and she told really good stories, and then there was Jack. Jack was schizophrenic and pretty messed up but he became a good friend of mine there. In art time he'd draw inappropriate pictures and the lady would freak out, but we'd just laugh. He was actually a really good painter when he put his mind to it.
That night I fell asleep with next to nothing on my mind. I just slipped into sleep. I had never done that before.