Tempest (Royce/Winston)

069

Jacob's P.O.V.

Waking up in the hospital was hard, but facing my parents was even harder. There were a lot of questions and a lot of tears, but that was pretty much expected. My mom wouldn't stop touching me, but I didn't let it bother me because I knew she just needed to feel me underneath the tips of her fingers so she could understand that I was still here. My dad didn't touch me as much as my mom did, but he did hug me and murmured to me that he was glad that I was okay.

The doctor said I was okay, at least physically. My stomach had been pumped, the pills that weren't digested were flushed out. None of my internal organs were harmed because I'd gotten to the hospital in time for the doctor and nurses to do what they needed to do in order for me to be okay.

I knew I would have to deal with my parents asking me countless of questions, but I wasn't expecting to have to answer questions from two police officers as well. Apparently it was a procedure, they had to ask me why I tried to kill myself, if it was because I was being abused or neglected at home, if I was being bullied, did I know what I was doing, was it really on purpose or was it all an accident. I answered the questions honestly because I didn't really have anything to hide. I tried to kill myself because I didn't want to live anymore. No, I'm not being abused or neglected at home. I'm not being bullied. I knew what I was doing when I had taken all of those pills. Yes, it was on purpose, and no, I didn't try to kill myself on accident.

I had to answer the questions with my parents out of the room because the police officers didn't want them to influence my answers. Once they deemed me to be telling the truth, they exited the room and my parents were allowed to come back in. I was told that I was going to have to go through a psychiatric evaluation but that would come once I was discharged from the hospital. The evaluation would help to understand the way I've been feeling and it would help to set up a treatment plan. So basically I was going to get a therapist to help me through my depression.

"Your friends are still in the waiting room, Jacob" my dad said as he walked back into the hospital room. "I told them that you're fine, and that you don't have any permanent injuries".

"Thanks" I said quietly, carefully picking at the blanket that was covering me from the waist down.

"They really want to see you, Jacob".

I nodded my head, "I know, but..."

"It'll be okay, baby" my mom reassured from where she was sitting in a chair. "They won't judge you, they're not going to make you feel guilty. Your friends are too nice and are too good to do anything like that. Your father and I can go down to the cafeteria for a while, let you all talk".

"Your mother is right, they're your friends for a reason. They're worried more than anything else".

I know Ray, Elijah, Chresanto, and Winston were worried, but I was still afraid that they were going to judge and yell at me for what I'd done. They were going to be disappointed in me too, weren't they? I was afraid to face them.

"Okay... They can come in" I sighed, shifting around uncomfortably.

I watched my parents both nod their heads before leaving the room. I thought I would have a minute or two to get myself together and prep myself for what was to come, but I didn't. The four of them had walked in so fast, and the looks on their faces caused my chest to feel tight. I felt like I couldn't breathe because I was so nervous and scared of what they were going to think or say.