I stepped outside the hospital gates for the first time in what felt like forever, and took a huge breath of fresh air. I felt the most free I’ve ever felt. Now I’m out of that stupid place, I can do anything I want. No micro-managing nurses, no large quantities of pills 3 times a day, no large, complicated medical words that sound scary because you don’t understand them but in reality are something pathetically irelevant. And the best part? I actually want to live. The only positive thing that actually came out of that dumb mental institute was the loss of my suicidal thoughts. The scars on my wrists are slowly fading, thanks to bio-oil, and my parents have given me permission to get tattoos to cover them up, and as for the mental scars, their fading too, with the help of people who listen. I’m also going to a councillors group every week to keep the process going. I’ve even transferred schools. Life, for the fist time in 3 years, is looking up.
“Harper, you’re daydreaming again!”
My mom’s snappy voice rips me from my thoughts, and giving a hasty apology, we proceed.
As I look through the darkened car window of my mom’s black ferrari at the hospital for the last time, a whisper a half-hearted,
“Goodbye, and thank you. (slightly.)”
Educated, with money,
He’s well dressed, not funny
And not much to say in most conversations,
But he’ll foot the bill in all situations…
The lyrics to Good Charlotte’s, “Girls and boys” flood my large room, I groan and roll over, my arm waving around the bedside table, attempting to wack the snooze button on my phone. And then it hits me. It’s my first counselling group day today. And I probably should look at least presentable.
Because, I mean, who knows? If Hazel can find romance at support group, then hell, so can I.
I decided to go for a run to the church where the group took place, and impress everyone with my “Oh look I’ve just been running how cool am I with all my exercising” look.
I had a nice, warm shower, and blow dried my hair, ridding it of it’s tangles. I browsed through my closet, and looked at all of the nice clothes that my mom had bought me, as a reward for getting out of hospital. We may never talk, but she has money, I can vouch for that. I found a sports bra from Beyonce’s new clothing line, and pair of Beyond Yoga yoga pants. It was so warm outside I didn’t need to bother with a hoodie, so I left it at that, fixing a pink FitBit onto my slim wrist, and slipping on a a pair of cherry blossom print nike trainers. I browsed my collection of IPhone cases, (I have a collection. It’s a weird hobby.) and selected one with the Nirvana logo printed on the back, but with the word, “Banana” written on it, instead of Nirvana. It was one of my favourites, as I LOVED the band, and found it hilarious. Probably a bit too hilarious if I’m honest with you, but what the hell? For my makeup I pulled my hair into a messy bun, to keep it out of my face while running.
I placed my favourite “Cupcake” facemask on my face, leaving it there for 10 minutes. After I’d wiped the mask off, I applied some chanel liquid foundation, blending it in evenly. I used some bronzer to excentuate my cheekbones, and combed some gucci mascara through my lashes. I finished with some eos, topped with a deep red lipstick. I kind of wanted to go with the “No makeup” style, given I was going for a run, but I didn’t want to look like the hulk, so some light makeup sufficed. My nails were painted a light, pastel green. I finished off by spritzing some “Daisy” by Marc Jacobs, hot pink edition, paired with a VS body spray, that I had learnt went well paired together. None of this was what I would generally wear, but one of the nurses at the hospital told me to “Be bold!” so I’m going to try. I inserted my beats earbuds, and the lyrics to Green Day’s “American idiot” filled my ears. And off I went!
“Hello everyone, my name is Peter Diamond. Why don’t we all go around the circle, stand up, say our names and why we’re here! I’ll start. I’m Peter, but you can call my Pete. I’m here because, well, I’m the teacher!”
He cracked up laughing, and I enternally groaned. This was the type of guy who though was hilarious, and really wasn’t. We went around the circle, and I kind of zoned out, until I heard an Australian accent and looked up.
“Hi, my name’s Calum Hood, and I’m here because my mom forced me to go.”
“Now Calum, let’s try and have a more positive outlook on this, shall we? Anyway, next!”
“Hi, my name’s Luke and I…”
And I zoned out again. And then it was my turn. I stood up and saw Luke look me up and down, nudge his friends and then point to my boobs. Another of his friends, with Blue hair, licked his lips and another chuckled. It was a dick move, but I chose to ignore it.
“Hi, my name’s Harper, and I’m here because 6 months ago I tried to commit suicide.”
Almost everyone gave me sympathetic looks, and Blue hair at least had the decency to look mortified.
“Well, it’s very brave of you to tell us that, Harper, could you tell us more about that?”
Peter had asked a couple of other people to do this, and they had all obliged, so I took a deep breath and continued,
“So, um, just over 3 years ago I developed undiagnosed clinical depression. Due to it being undiagnosed, I had no medication, so it slowly got worse and worse, while I suffered in silence. Then, um, I began to self harm, until 6 months ago I slashed my wrists and would have died, had it not been for my cousin finding me and calling an ambulance in the nick of time. And then I was put in an, um, mental hospital, and I got treatment and now I’m a bit better. But, um, the hospital, um, they sent me here just to, er, help the process along.”
I said in a rush and sat down quickly. A girl on the side of me, who had introduced herself to me at the start as being called Savvana, grabbed my hand and squeezed it, throwing me a smile. I returned it, grateful for the small sign of support.
Everyone finshed introducing themselves, and we talked a bit more about why it was important to share your issues. And then it was over. Me and Savvana exchanged numbers, and I waited at the gate for my mum’s chauffeur to pick me up. I heard a lot of whispering, and turned round to see the 3 boys that had commented on my boobs, trying to push Calum towards me. Eventually they succeeded, with me looking on in amusement, and Calum walked towards me. The other 3 boys quickly left, with shouts of, “We’ll meet you at the car.”
He was really nervous, and it made him look cute. I’m not gonna lie here, Calum Hood was REALLY hot.
“I was, um, wondering, if you ever, um, wanted to, um, go out to like, um, see a movie maybe?”
I was shocked at the date offer, as well as touched, and replied,
He looked shocked and relieved I’d accepted, and said rather eagerly,
“What about this Saturday? I’ll pick you up at around… eight?”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then!”
“Ok, um, awesome! Is there anything you want to see?”
“Nah, let’s just decide when we get there.”
“Ok, cool, I’ll um pick you up then.”
I heard a car honk, and it was my mom’s red ferrari.
“Well, that’s my car, so I’ll see you on Saturday?”
“Yeah. See you. Cool car by the way!”
“Thanks! Anyway, bye!”
I ran to the car, sliding into the front seat, inserting my headphones.
Oh. My. God.
I just got a date with Calum Hood.