13. The Wanting.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to scream until my lungs burst, until my throat goes raw, and I lose my voice, but I can't, I just can't. The worst thing is? Knowing that the doctors can hear my pleading whispers, the pain of being away from everyone. Jackie's death is so fresh in my mind, I honestly don't know how long I've been strapped down to this uncomfortable bed.
My stomach is killing me, and I desperately want to buckle up into a ball, but the straps lock my hands, legs, arms and waist into place. Crying-I've been doing that a lot lately, and there seems to be a constant trickle of tears dripping from my chin. My tears are the only ones keeping me company in this white walled hell hole. I cry because, quite simply, I'm scared, terrified even, of what Anna could do to my friends-I mean, she-she mutilated one of my best friends, and without remorse! I also cry because I want Anna to do that to me, and that frightens me. I want to die, want this never ending pain to stop.
I want to be forgotten.