Chapter Text
Everybody has bad days.
Days where they think it could never get better. It's normal, right? It happens to everybody. Those awful, gut-wrenching days where you just cannot wait for them to end. When all you want to do is curl up in dark room, tuck yourself under the sheets and hide from the world. Days were you in all honesty believe that the only way you could ever be happy again is to simply stop having any days at all.
For me, that was every day.
It had gotten to that point pretty quickly, I guess. Don't even pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. We've all been there. It hurts, doesn't it? Feeling like there's no hope left in the world. But have you ever gotten so far gone that hope became something foreign to you? I had. And there was no way in hell I was going to cope with it any longer.
I had planned it all out perfectly.
The pill container was hidden under my mattress, along with the blade. The pill container was full of my Mama's 'Happy Meds', as she used to call them when I was a little kid. I always knew they were strong sleeping pills, so that my Mama could sleep through the sound of my Papa's infidelity with his 'co-worker' in his study. But don't worry, she wouldn't even notice they were gone. She relied on good 'ol whiskey to drown her sorrows now. But no more would I have to deal with that knowledge.
No more. I, Maka Albarn, was completely and utterly ready. It was a Wednesday, Mama's day off from work and favourite day of the week, which caused an unusually bright atmosphere to the dull household. You'd think that'd make me more reluctant to leave it all. Make me want to stay. However, it had to opposite effect. It made me want to go.
The light atmosphere just reminded me that it wouldn't last, it wasn't real. It was an illusion. The one-off day my parents thought they'd give me a break from all the screaming, shouting and yelling I'd been brought up in. Being raised in a web of negativity only made this day inevitable.
Bet they saw it coming, I thought morbidly as I made my way upstairs, finally home from the tedious day at school.
School wasn't a break from home. I really don't know what I hated more. My emotions were as fickle as the weather. In the summer, you wanted winter. In the winter, you wanted summer. Right? You always want what you don't have then, but when you finally get what you'd been hoping for, you regret it.
I wanted nothing more to be home when I was at school, as all the attention was on me, but in the worst way. The name calling, hair pulling, and chair kicking. Everything may seem like little things, but they were all enough to push me over the edge in the end.
Like winter and summer, home was the opposite of school. I was completely ignored, as if I was invisible. Most of the time that is. If ever I did receive any attention it was only ever negative, and usually involved my regularly drunk and heavy-handed Papa.
Isn't that enough reason to end it? The two lives I led, at home and at school were both pathetic, miserable lives that no one should be forced to live. So, why should I?
I opened my bedroom door and locked it behind me, half cursing, half thanking that I was sure that my parents wouldn't care enough to check on me when the deed was done. When would they finally notice? The smell? The fact no one had prepared them breakfast? Would the school call?
I didn't know and didn't care. I threw my bag to the floor, maybe a little too hard. The books caused a harsh bang on the wooden floor. The sound bounced off the walls of my grey room. I fell to my knees at the side of my bed a pulled the tools out with an eagerness that was almost sick. I had to pull the blade out first. The light shone off the cold metal.
I smiled.
I pulled the pills out afterwards. I rested the blade on my knee before popping open the lid. My hands were shaking. I pulled out twelve pills and held them up to the light that creeped through the window.
But as I placed the first pill on my tongue, I had to stifle a sob. This is so fucking pathetic; it was hard to even comprehend.
No. I thought to myself furiously. I couldn't go on like this. I won't. I stabbed the knife into the wooden floor beside me and spilled out the rest of the pills, all my previous hesitation forgotten.
I took one at a time, labelling each with a reason of why I wanted to do this, why I needed to do this. It made it easier. I finished quickly and awaited the effects. Nothing. I waited a little longer… Nothing. I decided to cut while I waited.
They came on the moment I attempted to press the blade to my wrist. My hand was already shaking. My hands began to shake more, shaking uncontrollably and light, thick strands of hair began to stick to my face. I dropped the knife to the floor, causing a loud clank as it made impact.
So, this was it, huh? I was finally dying. A huge weight felt like it was lifting, floating off my chest. But something wasn't right. Wasn't dying meant to be peaceful? Why does it hurt so much? It never mentioned this in any of the books.
As my vision grew even hazier, I heard banging coming from the left. Was this apart of dying? I turned my head to see the door shaking and my eyes, once heavy lidded, widened. I saw a single figure in the doorway before the world went black.
* * *
I blinked my eyes open slowly. They felt heavy and my vision and memory was hazy. My head hurt. My sight went from black, to a tinted red, then to a semi-normal grey colour as I shifted to look around the room.
White. That was the first thing that came to mind. Only when I smelt that awful antiseptic smell did I realise where I was.
I turned my head to see my parents sat with their heads in their hands, almost as if they cared. I raised a brow before laying my head back down, prepared to pretend to be asleep to avoid the false commotion that was sure to come. Guess Mama must have found me. If my dad had there was no way I'd be alive right now. This is the situation I didn't plan for.
"Ah, you're awake."
I mentally cursed the woman I found stood in the doorway. She was leant casually against the doorframe with her arms crossed. Her glasses reflected the light from the window, so her eyes were unseen, giving her a very intimidating atmosphere. A nurse walked around the woman and began to check my vitals while I glared at anything but the people in the room.
"Maka?"
This was that stupid woman's fault. My folks stood to kneel at the side of my bed, their eyes wide and bloodshot. Mama's looked somewhat genuine, but anyone could easily make out the annoyance in dad's eyes. But he hid it so well. Could fool anyone.
"What the hell were you thinking?" Papa hissed as he grasped my arm roughly. I watched Mama open her mouth to object, but it shut promptly. Guess me nearly dying didn't make her grow a backbone. I sighed and just met his eyes levelly.
"I apologise for the inconvenience." I drawled; my voice heavy with sarcasm. Papa's eyes flashed with something scary.
Well, I'd never done that before. I had to fight the urge to avert my eyes as a small lace a fear swept through my stomach. Then chaos erupted.
It was loud, the nurse was asking me questions as she shone an irritating light in my eyes. My parents were arguing about who got to talk to me first and the woman in the doorway was scolding my parents for 'smothering' me.
Oh, please.
"Why am I here?"
The question made everyone's jaws snap shut. All eyes turned to me, wide with shock. I raised my eyebrows expectantly.
"Well?"
"Maka," Mama began slowly, her eyes narrowed. "What do you me-"
"Why am I still alive?"
This was obviously what they wanted. They wanted me to say it, so I did. My parents gasped and looked at each other, even the nurse took a sharp intake of breath. The only person who kept her wits was the woman in the doorway. She turned to glare at those in the room.
"May I ask you all to leave? I'd like a moment with Maka."
My parents and the nurse did so without discussion. Mama even tried to squeeze my hand, but I pulled mine away and looked at her almost disdainfully.
"Don't." I said quietly. Mama stifled a cry and walked out quickly. Papa followed steadily, not even sparing me a second glace. That stung a little. Though it was no more than I expected. The woman in the doorway finally stepped in and shut the door behind her. Only then did I notice the clipboard in her hand and the pen tucked behind her ear and I had to desperately resist the urge to roll my eyes. Just what I needed. A councillor.
"My name is Azusa," She said as she made her way to a chair, though her attention was solely on me.
"Now, Maka," Azusa began, sitting in the seat my Mama was previously sat in. "Wanna tell me why you tried to kill yourself?"
I had to raise my eyebrows. That was quick. Usually they work up to trying to get such an answer and try and gain trust and all that shit. But this woman just went straight for her goal. I shook away my thoughts.
"… I didn't." I replied in a guarded voice. Azusa sighed at my response and took off her glasses to rub her eyes.
"So, you're one of them ones, huh?"
"One of what ones?"
"The ones who deny everything. The ones who act too tough to tumble. The ones who think they're so strong that they can deal with everything on their own. Admirable, but stupid."
I blinked at the doctor. How did she get all of that just by my two-word response? But I was stubborn. I squared my shoulders and tilted my chin up as I cast my eyes away to glare out the window.
"I am strong enough to deal with this on my own," I insisted. Azusa scoffed and my eyes swung back to her.
"Well, I don't know how to put this," Azusa began, her voice thick with sarcasm. "But in my experience, I find that attempting to kill yourself is not the correct way to deal with things."
"I didn't try to kill myself."
"You took twelve sleeping pills in the space of a minute, it would seem." Azusa said precisely.
"…I didn't feel very well." I offered lamely; my voice clipped.
"You could have died." She shot back. I huffed and turned to glare back out the window.
"Coulda-woulda-shoulda…" I muttered. Azusa was quiet for a while before she finally shifted.
"Hm." Azusa jotted something down on the clipboard, then she placed her glasses back on her face before she looked up at me again.
"Okay, I think I know what you need." She stated. She fiddled through some papers before pulling out a leaflet and offering it to me. I didn't take it.
"I don't need anything. I'm fine." I repeated calmly.
Azusa dropped her arm and faced me with a very hard expression that made me feel… little. Young. I squirmed under her gaze but did attempt to meet it head on, though I imagined I looked quite small in comparison.
"Maka," she began in a very precise voice. "I've been speaking with you for less than five minutes and I already have multiple possible-diagnoses. You are not fine."
I narrowed my eyes.
"What?"
"Mhmm," Azusa nodded. "I'm thinking a personality disorder, but I'm also detecting some psychosis, but I'm not too sure on that one yet. But Maka, they aren't even what I'm worried about and they're both very bad illnesses to have, especially at your age. Especially this severe."
"What is it that you're worried about then?"
"You have been diagnosed with severe depression. And that is not a possibility but a certainty. You're going to Abraham Falls, and that's final."
* * *
I stared at the leaflet in my hand, labelled: Abraham Falls Mental Institution for the Troubled. I sighed in exasperation for the umpteenth before looking out the car door window. It was this stupid institution that we were headed to.
The fact that I was going there was decided without me, of course. It was decided before I'd even woken up. As usual, the grown-ups make all the big, life-altering decisions. I didn't even get a say in the matter.
I unwillingly heaved another sigh, unaware that we were currently pulling into the Institution's grounds.
"Maka," my Dad spoke, his voice unusually clear and stern. Huh, he mustn't have drunk anything today. "I want you to behave in there, okay? It's bad enough we're even allowing you to go to this place. Do you have any idea how this makes us look?"
"Well, I'm ever so sorry my misery causes such troubles for you." I muttered. I was moving out, so who cares?
"Now, shut up with that, alright?" Papa snapped and Mama jumped. "I'm getting sick of this fucking back chat. Just because you're running off to some loony bin doesn't mean you can talk shit to me. Remember where you're coming back to, alright?"
I noticed Mama squirm, but I knew she wouldn't stick up for me. She wouldn't even hear the threat in his last sentence. I nodded silently, feeling almost happy when the institutions sign came into view and I could gain some distance from my ever-cold Papa.
I opened the door before the car had even stopped moving when we arrived, ignoring my Papa's warnings and muttered comments as I made my way up the large, wide steps.
The building looked a lot like a hospital, minis all the automatic doors and that awful smell. I slowed down so that my parents could stop at my sides. I fell back automatically as they made their way to the reception.
"Oh, hello!" A cheery voice sounded before we had even got to the desk. I turned to see a blonde-haired woman making her way towards us through two double doors that seemed to lead into the hospital. She was pretty, minus the black eye patch that seemed so out of place on a woman as pretty as her. "I'm Marie. Is this the new recruit?"
"Oh, hi," Mama said, shaking the woman's hand. "I'm Kami and this is my husband-"
"Spirit." Papa took a step forward to shake the woman's hand, shooting my Mama a warning glance before turning back towards Marie. "We're here for Maka."
"Ah, Maka!" the woman clapped her hands together as her eyes landed on me, she grinned. "Well, you look just about ready, if you want to see your roo-"
"Yes," I said, unable to mask the desperation in my voice. The blonde woman smiled again before turning to my parents.
"If you want to say your goodbyes, I can take Maka to get settled while you finish the paperwork. Is that alright?"
"That's fine," Spirit said dismissively. I coughed to hide a scoff. My Papa's eyes snapped towards me and my heart sunk when they narrowed.
"Can I just say goodbye to her alone please?"
He didn't wait for a response as he dragged me a little away from Mama and the doctor. He placed his hands on my shoulders before he pulled me into a hug.
"Remember what I said okay," he muttered, and all air left my lungs. "I don't want any more shit. And I won't forget the way you've been speaking to me. Is that acceptable, girl?"
Any cockiness I had in me dried up as I shook my head, frozen with fear. Papa sighed and rubbed my back. I'm sure to anyone it would simply look like a heart-broken Papa saying goodbye to his daughter.
"And you know better than to mention anything silly in a place like this right?" he carried on in that sickeningly sweet voice. "You don't want to get daddy in trouble now, do you?"
I shook my head.
"Good girl," he murmured, his voice made bile rise in my throat. He pulled away and patted my shoulder before guiding me back to Mama. My legs felt stiff with horror.
I hoped I'd never go home.
Mama hugged me softly, though I didn't return it, and murmured her goodbye in my hair. My heart clenched. Oh, how I wished it was genuine. The feeling shattered as my Dad planted a soft kiss on my forehead, his voice strained but false as he muttered his goodbye.
"Now, you get better soon so you can come back to us, you hear?" he said in a strange voice. He backed away to wrap his arm around Mama's waist who rested her head on his shoulder, nodding in agreement. I stared at the scene. It looks real. But then my Papa's eyes darkened as Marie's back turned and his arm dropped from his wife's waist. I took a step back.
I didn't even offer them a second glance. I gave my Papa one last look of fury before turning on my heels and retreating.
* * *
I ended up in Marie's office. It was quite homely for an office. All the tension oozed from my body now I was a safe distance away from my Papa. I sat on a comfy armchair in front of the large wooden desk and twiddled my thumbs. Marie watched this and wrote something down. I frowned and pulled my hands apart, Marie jotted something down again. Well, this is gonna be fucking infuriating.
"So, Maka," Marie began, her voice already coated in sympathy. "I heard your story from Azusa and it just about broke my heart. Do you want to talk about it?"
"No," I said immediately, and met Marie's eyes with my own blankly, hoping to give nothing away. "There's nothing to talk about."
Marie's eyes clouded with sorrow.
"Maka, I know you haven't been able to talk to someone recently but that's different now. There are people here who will understand you, know what you're going through and some who have gone through worse. You're on the same road, Maka. If you want to get better, we need to talk."
"No, they need to talk to get better. I need to be left alone."
"No one can recover on their own, not even someone like you."
"Someone like me?"
"You've been enduring this for a while now, haven't you?" Marie asked softly as she looked to the papers on her lap. I shuffled in discomfort. "From your diagnosis I can see this is a long-term thing. Want to tell me about that?"
"Will it make you leave me alone?"
"Yes."
I rolled my eyes at her lie.
"Fine, I tried to off myself because there was nothing left. It wasn't getting better. I had nothing to look forward to and nothing made me happy. Hell, I have yet to understand what happy feels like! But I can't be helped because this is who I am. I was brought up in such a negative environment that it seeped into me and made me who I am right now. And, you can't change that no matter how much you want to."
I was breathless by the time I finished. Marie only folded her arms over the clipboard to lean forward as she analysed me blatantly. The doctor then narrowed her eyes before she jotted something down and leant toward me once more. I huffed.
"Maka, everyone in their life feels like there's no point at some point. You just had more reason to believe it. But you can get better if you cooperate."
"You don't think I've already thought about that?" I asked in exasperation. "Because, I did. I tried to think in every single way how things could get better, but I came up blank. My parents are the problem and they will never change, and I'm stuck with them till I turn eighteen. I'm not willing to wait another two years. I can't last that long."
Marie shook her head and placed her notebook down. This made me feel a bit more at ease. When she wrote stuff down, I felt like I was being studied. I didn't like that.
"There are ways you wouldn't understand that could improve your mental health. Things that we can offer here." Marie told me softly.
I sighed and Marie leaned forward to pat my shoulder. I stiffened under the pressure. Marie noticed and let go.
"We will do everything in our power to make you happy, Maka," she said in a firm voice. I looked up in surprise.
"To make me happy?" I asked with a humorous laugh. "Not healthy? I thought you all thought I was sick."
Marie nodded slowly before drawing her hands away.
"You are sick, Maka. You're mentally sick and you suffer physical wounds that were self-inflicted." I winced. We're gonna do this now?
"You hurt yourself too, Maka?"
"It helps me," I said through gritted teeth.
"Maka, it couldn't help you." Marie said in a sad voice. "It never did. You may think it did, but it didn't."
"It did," I snapped.
"How?" Marie asked suddenly. I leant back into my seat as I tried to form my feelings into words.
"I was hurting all the time," I said slowly before pointing at my head. "In here. My head always hurt, and it made me feel even worse. When I cut, the pain was separated. The physical pain distracted me from the mental pain. I could finally make sense of it, think clearly. And the mental pain was always so much worse. I could think straight. It was such a relief. But it only lasted for the time I was cut."
Marie nodded slowly, but her eyes were still strained. She looked uncomfortable.
"I can see some sense in that," she allowed. "But that doesn't make it right. There are healthier ways to get your thoughts and feelings in order."
"Like what?"
"Hobbies, friends, interests…"
"Don't have any."
Marie smiled and shook her head. "Now that's not true. You like to read."
"…Yeah. Yeah, reading's nice."
"We have a library here." Marie chuckled as my eye's widened. "We'll work on the hobby and friends front, but for now if you're overwhelmed, no matter where you are, just go to the library and read till your heart's content."
I hesitated before I nodded slowly. Marie clapped her hands together.
"Okay. I need to work on your schedule so how about I take you to get settled in your room?"
I nodded.
"Okay."