Oh how wrong we were to think that immortality meant never dying

Tuesday
I continued to see him for weeks, everyday. I never talked to him. He never talked to me. we sat across the cemetery from each other, exchanging small glances and smiles here and there. I could see that he continued to draw, and i continued to read. Well, tried to read. It never really worked. I never really read, I usually kept my eyes on him, the way his tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth when he concentrated on his drawing, what I assumed was a drawing. I suppose he could be writing, but his fingertips were grey, like he was using them for shading. But for the past two day he didn't show up, I don't know where he is, and it's none of my business. But wherever he is, I hope he comes back. I look forward to seeing him everyday. It makes me happy, like in my own imagination he is my friend. Maybe, just maybe, he thinks that same.
Wednesday
Do you ever get that feeling like your going to throw up, but not because you're sick? Not like when you have the flu and throw up whenever you eat something, but when you know that something bad is going to happen and it makes your stomach turn. That how I felt when I woke up and my mother wouldn't wake up.
No, before you jump to conclusions, she isn't dead. But I thought she was until we got to the hospital. I got up and went to to her room, I was going to ask what she wanted me to make her for breakfast, she is sick and doesn't eat much, but I try. And she wouldn't wake up. Martin started yelling at me and telling me it was my fault, then other voices started yelling with him. It was all I could hear and I didn't want to see Martin anymore. I didn't want to hear him anymore. I felt heavy, like all of the sudden Gravity was pulling me down to the floor with too much force, I felt my legs collapse beneath me. As I pulled my knees close to my chest i covered my ears with my hands, in an attempt to keep all the yelling out. It didn't work at all. There were so many, and it was so loud I couldn't hold it in anymore, I started screaming. I didn't know what else to do, I wanted all the voices to go away, I wanted Martin to go away, I wanted mom to wake up. I kind of just wanted to die. For a second I thought that is exactly what happened. It's not. I did pass out.
I'm not sure exactly what happened after that. I don't remember. But I do know, that I hurt all over.
When I was really young, maybe five or six, mom took me to a water park. We spent all day there. It was a few months before she got sick. I was finally tall enough for the biggest water slide. I went on the biggest water slide, I felt the butterflies in my stomach and I was giggling the whole time. Until I reached the bottom. See, when I reached the bottom of the slide, I was pushed under. It was like i forgot how to swim. I was gasping for air that my lungs couldn't get to. That was the feeling I had before I blacked out.
When I woke up I was in a hospital bed, well, I assume that's where I am. The blanket feels itchy, and I can feel the stupid heart monitor thing on my finger. I really don't want to open my eyes. I don't want to see Martin, or whoever was waiting. My heart dropped, what am I even saying? No one would be waiting for me to wake up.
"Frank I know you are awake." I opened my eyes and the harsh, bright light burned. I closed them again and covered them with my hands. For the brief moments they were open I did see a lady, a nurse. She was sort of pudgy and had dark hair. I eased my eyes open. My arms and abdomen had bandages all over them, I'm not quite sure why. I tried to unwrap my arm but the nurse lady stopped me. "You fell through the glass door in your house. You got cut pretty bad, but they will heal soon" her eyes held a constant look of sympathy. "You've been asleep for a few days." I don't remember falling through the glass door. But that would explain why I hurt so badly all over. "You had a small fit, while you were in the glass. That's why they are so bad." That makeys sense. "Your mother is very fragile right now, she cannot have visitors. She needs as much rest as possible. For now, we are going to transfer you to the Belleville Mental Institution. You will have a few days to go home and pack your things, collect yourself, but we don't know how long you will be there-"
"why do I need to go to a mental institute? I'm fine."
"Frank hasn't anyone ever told you? You have schizophrenia."

Notes

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