I Am Lying On The Bathroom Floor

Fast forward two years: Bader 5 is a psychiatry inpatient service at the Boston Children’s Hospital and it was where I was checked into late August 2014. Originally, I was going to the hospital for a checkup on my headaches, but when my mother pointed out to the doctor what I had been struggling with mentally, I was taken to the emergency room for suicide watch. I sat in the emergency room for over two hours with Marcos, a tall man who spoke broken English, whose only job was to make sure I would not strangle myself with the bed sheets. My mother was signing paper work, getting food and calling my father for a majority of those two hours. By the time she came back, it looked like she had aged ten years.

It was Wednesday morning, 6:30am, and yes I had to go to school. I remember calling and begging, asking if I could take the day off, but mom wasn’t having any of it, so I had to get ready. The pain was gone, which I was fortunate about, but I still felt ill. I hopped into the shower, washed up, and when I got out I collapsed. White light again, but this time it was all I could see. I closed my eyes. I was on the floor, unable to move. After what seemed like an eternity, I finally opened my eyes. I went straight to my bed, and fell asleep. I woke up a mess, and felt worse than before. I looked at my phone, and saw at least six hundred missed called from mom. I called her, fearing for what was to come. “WHERE ARE YOU? WHY DIDN’T YOU GO TO SCHOOL?” She screamed. “I’m at home. I didn’t go to school because I feel worse than before. I really need to go to the hospital.” I whimpered. She told me that we’ll go when she comes back from work, and I agreed. Back to sleep I went. I wake up to my mom rushing into my room. She signaled to get ready by moving her head quickly forty-five degrees to the left. I got ready to leave, and we left at around

I sat there in my room with tears flowing down my blush pink cheeks. Wondering what was wrong with me, as a salty tear ran along my dried out chapped lips. I thought to myself,” Why am I so miserable? What did I do to deserve this? How am I going to escape this life?” I started to ponder that this was the end of my life, this is how I was going to be, sorrowful. At the lowest point of my life, mother came barging through the door with the look of cavernous concern on her face. She knew that it was time for something to be done, whether I agreed or not.

When I woke up in the morning, my mom had left for work. My dad was singing in the kitchen, banging pots around. I got up, tiptoed down the hall, washed my face. A neatly wrapped present lay on the bathroom counter. It was addressed to me. I stuffed it into my robe pocket, and rushed back down the hall. Under the covers, I opened the package. On the first page of a small, leather notebook, an inscription read: to a writer, love your mother. I never wrote anything in the notebook. I could never think of anything good

I procrastinate for an hour or two but then push myself to do my homework. After 3 hours of hell, I finally completed all of it and decide to take a shower. Once I get out, I get out my speakers and begin to play 'I like it when you sleep for you are beautiful yet so unaware of it' probably one of the best albums ever released. Over all of the loud music I hear a loud bang from downstairs. I quickly shut off the music and wait to see if I will be able to hear the noise again. Yep, there it is. I swiftly open my door and walk downstairs and see my mom on a rampage. She screaming and throwing things and I am bewildered.

I haven’t been able to sleep for the past month. I hear my door creak and I look at the door. I see someone open the door very slowly before coming in. I look to see Maria tiptoeing into my room. “What are you doing?” I ask “You know your mom would kill me if she saw us.”

My mom spoke very little to each of us and seemed to be gone longer and longer each day until Saturday, which was moving day. That Saturday I had a band concert for relay for life at my local park. As the performance came to an end my best friend and I hop in the backseat of her mom's sweltering car and crank up the radio. We listen to our favorite throwbacks as her mom speeds down the streets rushing to get me home. As we pull in the drive, an unfamiliar vehicle idles in my driveway. Inside my house lays all of my moms belongings neatly piled up by the door waiting to be taken. My mom greets me at the door and introduces me to her boyfriend. He is much taller than me and talks down to me as if I'm a child. I cut the conversation short and sit on the couch with my dog Casey as they continue moving her things. After the last item is hauled away, my mom looks at me through the glass of the front door and says “I'll pick up Casey later.” and vanishes without another

If you saw me how most people saw me, you would be too. But you don’t because you’ve only seen a part of me. You see what I mean?” That killed me. I thought about all the people I used to know. I thought I always did a pretty good job at being myself but I don’t remember at all, I really don’t. If I was less of myself and more of a phony then maybe all the other phonies would like me more, but I didn’t want to be a phony. I wanted to be me. Just then, the girl’s phone rang. It startled me and I nearly fell out of that goddam window. No kidding. She answered it and it turned out her sister and D.B.’s flight wasn’t as delayed as they thought it would be. I could hear the whole conversation because it was so goddam quiet where we were. When the call ended, the girl turned to me and smiled really nice and wide, which amused me. I was never really one to smile at all, but some part of me decided in that moment that I should smile right

We were walking for a few hours. My feet throbbed and my ears were ringing from Taylor’s whining. Finally I could see it, the old abandoned house I discovered one day while riding my bike. The door was barely hanging onto its hinges, and there were several windows missing or broken. I pried open the splintering oak door. In the house there was two rooms. One, the one you first enter, was most likely a kitchen and living room. There was a sofa with faded fabric and springs popping out everywhere. An old furnace sat in the corner with rotting charcoal inside. The door of the furnace was missing rendering the whole thing useless. The other room was much smaller. It was a bedroom. There was a twin sized bed. The frame was rusty and missing a leg. I pulled the mattress off of it, so we could sleep on it. There were springs and stuffing sticking out of the mattress. It wasn’t too dirty to sleep on because I pulled off the moldy sheets. We laid down on the mattress. Taylor started snoring within minutes. I was worried about Mom. She had had a seizure before. It was because of her failing liver. Last time, social services took me and my sisters to a girl’s home. They served cooked vegetables that smelled like rotten seafood and chicken noodle soup with frozen chicken. After Mom got out of the hospital she got custody of us, but the judge told her if it happened again she wouldn’t get us back. My older sister, Becca, was eighteen so she didn’t have to

My mom burst through the door telling me to wake up.(sv) I pick up my phone and see that it's 5:30 in the morning, I get up. I gather my belongings while listening to music. My mom hurries me, telling me that we need to go. I ask my mother where we're going & she says Oklahoma.I got in the car by 6 a.m. I put My seatbelt on and went straight to sleep (svv). Of course, My mom had her music all the way up so I didn’t get enough sleep. Our first stop was at a gas station to go to the restroom, I woke up and wasn’t feeling good at all, my nose was stuffed, my eyes were watery, my voice was kind of going away, and my face just looks terrible. My mom comes back into the car and says:

Before my mom sent me and my dad off to find help, she was on the phone with the roadside assistance which seemed like forever. All of a sudden we then realized the gas station wasn’t that far down the road, at least that is what we thought. We started to walk to the gas station, our foots sinking in the mud, the cold mud rises to our ankles. We immediately turn around knowing that this wasn’t the right decision. The gas station was longer than we thought, it was not even visible. Trudging back to the car we come to find my mom on speakerphone with the phone ringing. It goes straight to

Yet you only found rot and an empty heart, I hope you feel my sin

My day starts with a quick look at my phone, it is 5:00 in the morning my back is cramping and I need to be turned on my side. I knock on the wall to get my mom’s attention. This wakes up my mom, and then she slowly makes her way to my room to help me turn on my side. Mom asks me, “Connor do you need to be turned?” I sleepily reply, “Yeah.” It is now 9:00 am and I need a shower. Suddenly my mom appears in my room and asks, “Do you want to take a shower?” I get a little agitated by that question. I snap back, “Of course I do!” I should not get upset because I know she is just trying to help. However, she still helps me in my shower chair and rolls me into the shower. When I am done with the

On a dreadful night, I went up to my mother to try and talk to her about my father’s passing. She was immediately frightful and all I wanted to do was to talk to her about how wrong it was for her to marry my father soon after my father’s death. As we began talking, the discussion became heated. Soon I found myself enraged. I grabbed her by the arms and threw her on the bed. She became frightened and started shouting for help.

It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular