The three days I had spent in the emergency department were a haze, like I had dreamed it all. My memory of the event was really spotty, since I was usually either asleep or drowsily listening to Ethan and Mrs. Clarissa talk with half lidded eyes. After seventy-two hours, Dr. Roberts decided to discharge me after I showed signs of not being completely off my rocker, but really I think it was because there were still no inpatient beds available anyway, and they would have to keep me in the emergency room. Better to just spit them back out into the world again, right?

I sat on the edge of my hospital bed, Ethan running his fingers through my greasy hair.

"How are you not grossed out right now? I haven't showered in three days," I ask, averting my eyes in embarrassment. Twelve was pacing back and forth on the floor, and I watched her in interest. "Nothing about you could ever gross me out," he replied simply, looking over to where I was staring. In the place I saw a black cat, he saw dusty linoleum flooring.

"What do you see?" He asked curiously. Ethan took great interest in getting to know the things I sometimes saw, regardless of how weird it was.

"Twelve."

"That's the black cat, right?"

I hummed, eventually closing my eyes and resting my head on his chest. I'm definitely taking a nap when I get home.

"If you ever need reassurance that something isn't really there, you know you can ask me anytime. I would do it for however many times you need to feel safe," Ethan said softly, placing a loving kiss on my forehead.

"That's really kind of you. Thank you," I smiled, nuzzling my nose on the underside of his jaw. "How was school?" I asked. Of course Monday had to be the third day of the psychiatric hold, causing me to miss school I definitely shouldn't be missing.

"Nothing much happened, everyone was wondering where you were. I didn't say anything, I promise, just that you weren't feeling well," he smiled.

"You're the best," I breathed, feeling some of the tension leave my shoulders. The door behind us opened and Mrs. Clarissa came in, her pale skin looked almost translucent, and I knew today was one of the bad days. She's had a rough weekend between dealing with me and going back home to take care of Benji and Mary, a constant back and forth with hardly any break.

"Alright, discharge papers are all signed. We should be good to go," she smiled at us.

"Mrs. Clarissa- my mom and I were talking earlier, Ivan is more than welcome to stay at mine for a few hours," Ethan offered, so you can finally get some rest, was the unspoken line after that.

"Well, if that's what Ivan wants, I suppose that'd be all right," she looked between Ethan and I, pushing her tortoise shell frames up her nose. I nodded, smiling reassuringly. "Alright. Be home by eight, okay? Ethan, can you walk him home?"

"Of course."

I frowned, knowing that meant I was still unstable in her eyes and needed to be babysat. It hurt, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't understand it. Ethan grabbed the overnight bag Mrs. Clarissa had brought the second day, holding my hand as we walked down the bleach white halls and out of the hospital. Waving goodbye to Mrs. Clarissa, Ethan swung our hands lightly as he unlocked his car, putting my bag in the back as he held the door open for me. I slid in, buckling my seatbelt as Ethan walked around and got in the driver's seat, starting the car. I shivered a bit against the cold and rainy April day, pulling the sleeves of Ethan's hoodie over my hands. I grinned at that, sometimes forgetting I'm wearing Ethan's clothes until I suddenly remember and blush like a fool.

"I love seeing you in my hoodie," he pulled teasingly on one of the strings.

"It smells like you," I said playfully.

Ethan took us back to his house in comfortable silence, our hands joined in the center as I rested my forehead against the window. This was never how I had intended for Ethan to find out about my mental illness, but looking back, I wish I had told him sooner. In a controlled manner, where I don't scare the shit out of him and his family, but there was no use in wishing for the past to change. The peace I knew now, regardless of the occasional talking in my ear, was worth it all.

As we pulled into the driveway, I could hardly wait for the hot shower I was itching so badly for. The moment we got in the front door, I kicked off my shoes and rushed upstairs to Ethan's bathroom, hearing his laughs from downstairs as he yelled after me to remember a towel. I grabbed the first towel I saw in the closet, rushing into the bathroom and turning the hot water on. I locked the door behind me and got stuck in my own clothes a few times with how fast I was trying to get them off. My scalp itched, and I could actually smell my own body odor; how anyone could stand to be within ten feet of me is a complete mystery.

I stepped into the shower and sighed in contentment as the hot water pelted against my skin, resting my head against the shower wall. I thought about what the psychiatrist said, about changing how I was being treated. I took my antipsychotics and antidepressants as pills for as long as I had symptoms, I never really knew there were any other options. Now that my thoughts were a bit less jumbled, I felt like the decision was clear. They told me just to continue with my typical routine until I could make a choice, but now I only felt like a ticking time bomb. When would be the next time I get delusions that cause me to stop taking my medication? Another hospital stay? Putting everyone close to me through the emotional wringer again?

I scrubbed my hair vigorously with a towel, quickly realizing that I forgot to get clean clothes. Wrapping the towel around my waist, I popped my head out of the bathroom, about ready to call for Ethan until I noticed the pile of folded clothes right in front of the door. Biting my lip, I picked up the clothes, unraveling them to see that it was Ethan's shirt and a pair of his sweatpants. This was going to be the death of me.

Walking across the hall to Ethan's bedroom, I saw the door was open and Ethan was already lying on the bed on his back with his phone in his hands. He looked up when I entered, a megawatt smile taking over his face.

"Hey you," he opened his arms up, inviting me to crawl on top of him, and so I did. Resting my cheek on his chest, I was comforted listening to the strong thumping of his heart. He brought his hand up to the back of my head, the other wrapping around my waist.

"How are you doin'?" He asked, planting a small kiss on the top of my head. I sighed.

"I'm okay. Still really tired, so I'll probably fall asleep soon."

I felt his chest vibrate as he hummed in thought. "Have you been hospitalized before?" He asked. "If you don't want to answer, that's okay, I just want to understand better," he rambled.

I smirked. "When you witness what you did last Friday, I'd say you're entitled to ask questions and get answers. But I have, a couple times."

"Do you always get so scared? When you hallucinate?"

"Not always, depends on what it is. Sometimes it's more confusing and uncomfortable than anything else. Twelve isn't really scary, she just stresses me out."

"Where'd you get the name Twelve?"

"That's what she told me her name was."

Ethan nodded slowly, although he was probably just doing that for my sake, I knew he didn't really get it; but he was supportive, and that's all I could ask for. We laid there in silence for a moment, and Ethan started gently scratching my back, which was slowly beginning to lull me to sleep. As I fought off the sleepiness with my last ounce of energy, I whispered:

"I decided to change to the shots. I need to start wanting to be healthy."

Ethan's squeezed me gently, grabbing my hand and kissing the back of it. "I'm proud of you," he whispered in my damp hair.

"I'm about to fall asleep, so I'll get off of you so you can do other things," I said, starting to lift myself up. Ethan grabbed my arm and pulled me back down again, yanking the covers over both of us.

"You know, I could actually use a nap too."

We were still tangled up in each other when we woke a few hours later, groggy and rubbing our eyes. Ethan sat up, leaning over me to glance at the alarm clock sitting on his nightstand.

"I should get you home now, it's almost eight," he sighed, running a hand down his face. I nodded, getting up and stretching my arms over my head. Noticing Ethan's heated gaze, I looked over my shoulder with a smirk.

"Were you staring at me?"

"Guilty," he grinned, grabbing my hand and leading me downstairs to the front door. His mom was in the kitchen making lunches while his dad stood at the sink washing dishes, and she noticed us the second we reached the landing.

"You heading home now, Ivan?" She chirped, cocking her head to the side with a smile.

"Yeah," I replied sheepishly. "Thank you for letting me stay over for a while."

"No worries sweetheart, you're always welcome."

Ethan and I pulled on our shoes by the front door, Ethan letting them know he'd be right back. We walked down the front yard, the sun just barely starting to set, our hands remaining joined.

"Are you going to tell people at school?" He asked, kicking a rock off to the side.

I hummed in thought. "I should tell Vera. Chloe. . . already knows actually."

Ethan stopped suddenly, causing my arm to jerk backwards and stop me as well. His eyebrows were almost to his hairline, mouth open slightly in shock. "Chloe already knows?"

I sighed, glancing around and chewing on my lip. "I never intended for her to know, but it just sort've. . . happened? We were both having a vulnerable moment."

"I see," he looked down the sidewalk and into the distance.

"She's the only one that knew before you. Her and Vera would be the only others apart from you that I would want to know what happened. Everyone else is irrelevant," I started to panic a little, thinking that Ethan was mad at me. He squeezed my hand reassuringly, giving me a small smile.

"I'm not mad Ivan, I understand where you're coming from. I was just surprised," he said, and we continued to walk down the sidewalk to my house. We both practically shuffled up the steps to the porch, not wanting to separate. Ethan brought a hand up to my face, tracing one of my eyebrows with his thumb. I looked down, not really ready to reincorporate myself into life, having to deal with all of the problems that made me spiral in the first place.

Ethan must have sensed this, because he pulled me right into his chest, and I rested my face in the crook of his neck.

"You're strong, you're brave, and you don't have to be alone anymore," he whispered into my ear, pulling away so he could kiss my lips softly. I smiled, nodding as I told him goodbye, and waved as he walked back down the darkening street to his house. Putting my hand on the door handle, I took a deep breath. Things were different now. I didn't have to be afraid anymore.

Stepping into the dark house, I locked the door behind me and made my way up the stairs, the bathroom light illuminating part of the hall. Coming up to the doorway, I saw Mrs. Clarissa humming softly as she brushed out Benji's hair, looking as though she was about to drop from exhaustion. Of course she'd stay up to make sure I got home, that Benji's hair gets brushed, that Mary made it safely to bed. She looked at me in the mirror, giving me a smile as she sprayed some more water in Benji's mop of brown, curly hair. He sat on a wooden stool in front of the sink, a bored look on his face as he rested his chin in his hand.

She grabbed the paper cup sitting on the counter, handing it to me with a nod of her head. I looked inside, seeing the two little pills sitting on the bottom that controlled so much of my life. Tipping the cup back, I let the two pills slide into my mouth, standing next to Benji to fill the cup with water. In one drink, I felt the two pills get flushed down my throat, voluntarily lifting my lip for Mrs. Clarissa to see I hadn't hidden them. I knew that's what she wanted to ask me to do, and a look of relief crossed her face at my cooperation. Having to argue with a mentally ill teenager was probably an incredibly draining experience.

"Goodnight," I told her, kissing her cheek and squeezing Benji's shoulder. Things were finally quiet.

~

"I'm going to be explaining things to Vera at lunch, so we probably won't be sitting at the table today," I informed Ethan as we walked down the hall together to the cafeteria.

"I'm glad you're telling her. I'll try not to miss you too much," he winked, playfully nudging my shoulder with his. I rolled my eyes and scoffed, weaving through the crowds to our table. Vera was already there, her head snapping up to me as she scrambled to get her stuff and stand. I shook my head in endearment at her eagerness, remembering how she barreled into first period demanding to know where I had been, what had happened, if I was okay. She was only placated when I finally told her I'd explain everything to her at lunch.

We walked through the large double doors to the outside courtyard, finding a quiet place near the portable classrooms to sit down on the curb.

"So," I began awkwardly, absentmindedly pulling up the grass in the green strip. "I was in the hospital over the weekend. For three days. I, um. . ." I trailed off, staring at the gym class currently playing tennis on the courts in the distance. "I had a mental health crisis, that's why I was acting off on Friday. I have schizophrenia," I said quickly, suddenly wanting to throw up. No going back now.

Vera didn't say anything for a moment, just chewed on her lip thoughtfully. I stared on with anticipation, watching her nod her head and furrow her brows.

"Yeah- yeah my aunt has that too," she said, squinting her eyes against the sun as she looked at me.

"She does?" I asked in surprise, turning my body to face her more in interest.

"Mhm, she's been diagnosed with it for a few years, had a really hard time with it at first. We had to go through a couple hospitalizations, but then she found the right combination of medication and is really happy now. Has a one year old daughter and works as an accountant."

"That. . . makes me really happy to hear. I feel rather hopeless about the outlook of my life at times," I sighed, staring at my shoes. Vera squeezed my knee.

"I really appreciate you telling me this, because I care a lot about you, Ivan, and just want to make sure you're happy. It's never hopeless, you have some challenges not many others do, but there's a future for you. There always has been."

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes as I quickly wiped a stray tear from my cheek.

"You're never alone, Ivan."

~

Although the story is coming to an end, I really hope you all have enjoyed the journey as much as I have!