Personal Narrative: The Rebirth Of A Sixth Grader

The Rebirth of a Sixth Grader It wasn’t a real hospital, so I didn’t expect it to smell so much like disinfectant, and for it to linger on my skin and in my hair for multiple days after I returned home. Everything was such a bleached white. It looked spotless in there, and I was scared if I were to touch anything that it would be tainted forever. A lovely middle-aged woman met me around the first corner I took when I walked through the intimidating sliding glass doors. My parents right behind me, making sure I knew where to go, I felt trapped. At home, and in the car on the way there, I was so sure that it was the perfect idea, and it was for the best. As soon as I walked through those glass doors, however, I was filled to the brim with regret. How …show more content…
I didn’t know. I had no clue if I meant what I said, and if I would ever actually have the metaphorical “balls” to try to kill myself. There was always a rush under my skin when I pondered over it at night, and when I planned it all out in my head, but I don’t think I’d ever go through with it. How do I say this to them without sounding like a crazy person? So, here I am, sitting in a mental hospital, 12 years old, talking to a psychologist about my suicidal thoughts, being too afraid to sound “crazy.” I wanted help so terribly that it kept me up at night. I never knew how to reach out, and how to ask for something I so desperately needed. I was too afraid no one would believe me, or take me seriously. The talked that seemed to last forever turned out to only be five minutes of my mother rattling on about all of my problems. About halfway through ripping up my sixth waxy leaf, I noticed everyone standing up around me, and guiding me to the door. I was ushered to an elevator in utter silence. We stood there as the moving metal box beeped and buzzed, carrying me up to where I would be living for the next