It's 3:15 pm, outside the air is bitter and the clouds were gray. My window had rain droplets laid all over. It was a gloomy day, a day where I was heading to the hospital.Why? Cause I have

thoughts of ending my own life. Ending the life my own mother gave me. But I wanted a refund.

    The drive was a long quiet ride. Driving the car was my father, and we didn’t speak once to each other. I don’t blame him for being quiet, imagine taking your child to the hospital because he wanted to end his own life.  

    Once we arrived, my father pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off. He turned his head and stared at me for a moment, before opening his mouth.

“Are you ready?”

“I guess” I replied, my voice was cold. I wasn’t ready, I was scared.

    We both stepped out the car and walked up to the huge white building that stood before us. All around were other people’s cars, nurses outside talking or even smoking. One lady who looked pale as a ghost walked inside the white building. I didn’t fit in, I wasn’t sick. I just wanted to end my life that's all. I wasn’t sick.

    I followed my dad as we walked into the building. The first thing that caught my eye was how many sick people sat in the waiting room. I saw a lady holding a bag towards her mouth and a child with a bandage wrapped around his small hand.

    My father walked up to the front desk and gave the lady working at the desk my name and told her why I was here. The lady looked over at me and instructed me to come over towards her. Once I made my way over, she held up a long band to put around my wrist. So I held up my wrist, and she put on the ugly band around it. The band was inscribed with my birthday, name, and some random numbers. Nothing worth looking at.     

    We walked over to the waiting room, and sat in these leather chairs that made a purring noise when you sat down. We sat there for a while, watching nurses call people’s names. We waited for at least two hours before I got called back.

    I followed a nurse who had red hair, her scrubs were purple with flower designs all over them. We walked down this long hallway with rooms full of people. Full of people who needed to be here, and I felt like I was out of place. My anxiety filled my body like cold water rising. Maybe I could make a run for it. But before I knew it, I was standing in a room with the red-haired nurse and my father was waiting outside. There was a hospital bed in the middle of the room and a counter just to the right of the bed. Cabinets hung over the counter, and all the cabinets had zip ties on them. So there was no way anyone could get into the stuff.

“Alright, can I have you change into scrubs? Put your clothes in the bag when you’re done.” The nurse asked me, handing me a bag of green scrubs inside the bag.

    I took the bag and she stood there, watching me. I looked at her confused for a moment, why was she just standing there watching me?

“Oh, I’m sorry. I have to watch you undress for safety.” She answered my confused expression.

    I nodded, not speaking once. My mouth was dry and my chest felt heavy. I swear I could feel my heart in my back.

    I pulled out the big ugly green scrubs and got undressed as quickly as I could, then quickly getting on the scrubs. The nurse nodded at me when I finished, then walked out of the room. I shrugged and hopped up on the uncomfortable white bed. I stared at the green walls that closed me in. I thought about why I was here, thinking how I wasn’t physically sick, but mentally I was. All the sudden, my dad walked in the room. He leaned against the wall and stared off into space. He was probably thinking like me. I don't blame him, this isn't easy.

    We were in the room for 30 minutes before a lady walked into my room. She had long brown hair and her figure was curvy. She was also kind of tall, but she was wearing heels.

“Hi, I’m Veronica. I’m the social worker here at the hospital. I’m here just to ask you a bit of question, and I’ll talk to you alone.” She said to me, as my dad nodded and slowly walked out of the room.

   She smiled big at me and stood in front of the bed that I was sitting on. She then started asking me simple questions. What's your name? Brent. How old are you? 16. When is your birthday? May 16th. And, what brought you here? It was hard to answer that without feeling like crying. But I said what brought me here without bawling my eyes out.

    The lady looked up at me and looked at my arms, which had cuts on them.

“You’re a cutter?” She asked me. I nodded. A cutter? God, I hated when she said that. Like it was a disease or something, I don't know.

    She kept asking questions for about an hour. I felt like I was in an interview.

“Well Brent, I think we're gonna send you to a special place for a while, where you can get the proper help and care you need right now.” She nodded at me, her bright smile beamed at me. I just nodded and didn't even care. I needed to go, I was in a bad state right now.

     She got up and left the room, and soon after my dad stepped back in the room.

“They're gonna admit you?” My dad asked me. I just nodded once again, I couldn't talk. I was too embarrassed to speak.

    We sat in the room for about two hours before doctors came in, sending me to another room that was an actual hospital room. I had to stay there till there was somewhere available I could get treatment. The hospital room was nice. It had its own bathroom and a huge window. It even had a tv, so I had something to distract me. I was there for about three days before I was sent to a special care facility.

    I stayed at the place for about two weeks. When I was there, I worked on so much stuff. Did it help? Of course. But I wish I never went. I wish I could've been okay enough. But I wasn't. My life was on the line. I'm thankful for the experience, but I hated that I went. I was mentally sick.