My mom left to talk to my dad. It was just me in the room. No voices. Exactly how my place is in my mind, but that's darker. Much darker. No windows. No doors. Just a hard concrete floor. Dark, unbreakable walls. Is she going to get me help? Did she say yes? Did she agree to the cost? If she did, I love you, Mom. You really want to help me.
If I do go, what will it be like? I picture the place in my mind. It's utterly dark. It looks lonely with only very few depressed people who admire writing the way I do. Writing is our best friend.. We can write all day long. We could write to each other and not talk. I see this place like my home. Can I stay here longer, Mom?
Yesterday evening
Mom? Mom? Mom?! Let me call her. Please! Even if it's important? No? Why not? I hate this place. It's not the dark place I like. It's not what I imagined. I'm hurting, I have to have someone so close to me so I won't harm myself! I had to sign a paper! A paper that said I wouldn't do so!! What the hell is a piece of paper going to do?! I'll call someone an effin' hoe just to get out of here! This is hell! Please Mom, hear me, sense that I'm in danger. Come back and save me! I figured out where my home is, okay? I realized it's wherever you are and that's why I hate being here. I want to talk to you, Mom. I want to tell you, "Mom, come get me. I hate it here. It's hell and no one really cares!" I was just crying and no one even noticed until I told them I yearn for an open ear that'll listen. Get me out of here or I really will harm!
Today morning
They wanted me to draw blood! I demanded no! I hate this place even more!
Today evening
My day has turned a little better. I didn't know where I was walking to though. I didn't know what I had to do. She just told me I was going somewhere to check if I am healthy. Turned out, the thing inside me to keep me alive is perfectly healthy. I have no reason to think otherwise. But the main thing is, when I first set foot in this place I thought is hell, I saw some good in it. A boy, a male, a guy. He's beautiful, he's gorgeous, and he has a sweet, soft voice. He's nice and he smiled at me. Not because of a stupid joke, but for what I said.. his smile is flawless. It really is perfect. I wish to speak to him again. But girls and guys, I think, are separated until like 6. I can still picture his smile in my mind. He has a spark. More beautiful than any firework. More interesting than any firework. He noticed me.. and I don't think it's because he had to...
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