(Dec. 24, 2015) hi yes its me. i hope you enjoy this book
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m i c h a e l

I stared at the bleak white wall in front of me. I felt out of place in the hospital, a psych ward was not the typical place for teenage boys to be. I'd been there for almost a week, and the doctors there made me want to rip my hair out rather than feel better.

"Michael? Your mother is here to visit you." Chester, one of the nicer nurses, said quietly; hoping not to disturb me. Sighing, I rose from the stiff mattress and headed out to the dining room where my mother sat waiting for me.

"Hi, mom." I greeted, sitting accross from her. The blonde woman handed me a foil package and smiled. "Hi, michael. I brought you a quesadilla in case you're hungry." (I FUCKING LOVE QUESADILLAS bc they have the word "sad" in them and i relate) I nodded and thanked her. Karen was a kind woman, and a good mother most pf the time; hardly the reason for my hospitalization. I was simply sick.

We talked for a while, although I was never interested in what my mother had to say. Karen left when my father came, and although I was sick of talking for a while, I stayed and visited with the older man.

I knew my father hardly cared about my mental health, he was only there to look like a good parent. I didn't mind. He didn't mind all that much, really. Too tired, too sick. It was all the same and I couldn't escape.