Hundred watt bulb

 Hey guys, a more normal sized update for you this time, I'm sorry I've been out of it for so long, I had laptop trouble and then I moved! I know I don't have to put labels here but I just wanted to say be safe- because this could be triggering for SI. Anyway, hope you're all well. RJxox

As I force my breathing to slow I gaze up at the small window high over the bed. Its frame is dark, no comforting rim of light leeching from around the square blind, white like everything else in this place. I glance at the clock with its hands resting at 1:17 and I realise, with a sense of finality tinged with the faint desperate taste of expectation that nothing has changed for the better. This night, just like so many others before, I won't sleep. Knowing that all I can do is sit in the confined space and think, makes the five hours until day break stretch out for eternity. But what use, is an eternity filled with nothing? A grunt of noise from the left startles me; don't tell me that psychologist is still here?! I open my mouth, ready to rant and rage until he turns and leaves, tail tucked between his legs. I turn to the side, and I can see his face bathed in the slight glow emanating from the emergency call buttons along the bedside panel...and it's not the psychologist, it's my father. A rush of feeling sweeps through me, most surprising of all is my sudden joy at my dad's presence. This must be the first time I've seen him in months...months and months! I go to cry out but stop myself as I notice his phone resting next to me, screen up reading (1) New message: Julia. What? My brain is still a little hazy from the pain killers, but I know that's not why I'm confused, why would my mum be messaging? I'm sure they haven't been in contact since the shouting match last Christmas...but then, how else would he know I was here. Without considering the implications I hit 'view' and my mother's message fills the screen, 'Don't let J in, he shouldn't see her'. That bitch, James is probably the only person in the world that I'm really sure I love...how could she do this? But then, maybe she's right, what kind of example is this for James? Although it's not like there's anything to see, a bandaged wrist and a father who by all accounts should be absent, surely they can't have told him I'm sick or anything. I can feel my body begin to shake, quaking at the injustice of the somewhat imagined slight, I hate myself for leaving my brother. I don't care about secrecy at this point, I just want my mother to hurt as much as I am so I scribble on the hospital issue paper on the bedside don't worry if your hate seems inadequate, I've got enough Rose-hatred for two.

I spot the private bathroom off this room, and almost intuitively I know that the blades I'd hidden in the lining of my wash bag must be there. Besides that, its pure logic...surely someone has picked up my things. It's like I'm drawn to there, to them. Like...you know when you play a video game, important items show up with a glowing outline of blue or orange or green. And even if you don't understand the game, it's instinctive that the glowing items are important. Reach them, and things will change, be better. The blade hidden in my wash bag- god knows how they weren't found- shine like a hundred watt bulb. Luring me as surely as a moth to a flame. Helpless. I ease myself off the bed, succumbing to the inevitable; I tiptoe on socked feet towards the bathroom where my escape lies waiting. The blades unearthed, malevolence glinting off the shiny silver, I grasp one in my now encumbered left hand and send a quick prayer for forgiveness winging it's way to Ally.