Author: colorcrystals PM
After being in a car crash in which her boyfriend dies, Belle attempts to commit suicide. Her family admits her to a psychiatric facility where she is questioned by a psychiatrist.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Tragedy - Words: 398 - Published: 07-06-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3039466
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
"What caused your depression?" she asks asks asks.
Depression was not my destruction depression destruction destruction depression I like how that sounds My destructive depression decided to dig
"Are you prepared to work toward recovery?" she asks asks asks.
I've annoyed her with my ostentatious silence my smug demeanor She wants to find me scintillating but I'll pretend to be somber
"Why did you run way from home? Were you sad?" she asks asks asks.
So many better words than sad Try somber or melancholy or grieving or bitter or despairing or forlorn My despairingly destructive depression dolefully decided to dig deep into the darkening dank
"Why did you jump?" she asks asks asks.
Beautiful Bells NO! Don't think of that she wants me to talk She desires my cooperation in order to resolve my recovery I refuse to assist her in her tedious trials of her tantalizing trade of beautiful bells NO!
"Would David have wanted you to jump off the bridge, Belle?" she asks asks asks.
She sees broken pieces I see it in her eyes like butterflies fly fly fly away soaring David loved my spontaneous poetry NO!
"Do you remember the night he died?" she asks asks asks.
My despairingly destructive depression dolefully decided to dig deep into the darkening dank drunken death Driver The police asked questions No officer he wasn't drunk Not my David The other driver was not David Too many D's bury me beneath them
"You have so much ahead of you. Do you really want to waste your life in this facility?" she asks asks asks.
So much ahead There's nothing ahead No light only dark Only David Only words She sees broken pieces Am I broken I don't know anymore
"Beautiful Bells toll no more." I murmur. For the first time in a long time I can think. I can speak. She stares at me in shocked silence. Then I see the lights. Bright white headlights coming toward us, my scream, David's hand clutching mine. I'm on the bridge surrounded by bright white headlights while the river moves peacefully below. The pain is too much. I throw myself under once more.
"Belle, is there anything else you want to say?" she asks asks asks.
My despairingly destructive depression dolefully decided to dig deep into the darkening dank depths