This is an excerpt from a larger story that I have yet to write. It really doesn’t have a title yet. Titles are so important to me, as is symbolism, so I’m going to wait on that.
He looked me in the eyes, never blinking.
“Jessica, if you are having suicidal thoughts it’s really best that we go to the hospital. I just need to hear you say it and we’re out the door.”
I pondered saying no. I figured it would be better not to throw more gas on the fire. I could spend the next twenty minutes denying it, skip class, head home, and do the deed. No one would be able to stop me. But there was something in me that really wanted confirmation. I wanted to know for sure what was wrong with me. If I had a chance. There was also a part of me that really liked the idea of having no responsibility for a little while. Surely if I was in the hospital my college would have to understand. Especially if the school counselor is accompanying me. Surely if I was in the hospital the world would be quiet for a little while, and maybe my mind could settle down for a brief window of bliss. Surely I could kill myself after I’m discharged. Suicide could wait a few more days.
“I’m having suicidal thoughts.”
“Wait here, I’ll get my coat and let the secretary know. We’ll find a cab somehow in this snowstorm.”
Snowstorm. That’s what it felt like inside my head. A flurry of information swirling around in my brain, stabbing me sharply upon impact. Changing constantly, but never in the right direction.
“You’re going to be okay, Jessica.”
Yes, Dr. Cravens, I will be okay.