"We need to talk about some things, Troye."

No sooner than I opened my eyes, Doctor Jennings was helping me to get out of bed and encouraging me to sit in the wheelchair waiting at the foot of the bed. My head was dull and ached heavily, causing my vision to become unclear and fuzzy. My short walk over to the wheelchair wasn't the most graceful.

"Where's my Mum?" I asked as Doctor Jennings pushed the wheelchair out of the door and began wheeling me down a brightly lit corridor, the overhead lights hurting my eyes.

"She's here. That's where I'm taking you, because we need to talk about something that I need your parents to be there for."

My mind began racks through the various ideas of what it could be that Doctor Jennings wanted to discuss with my parents and I. However, the sudden spell of intense thinking made my head hurt and I quickly moved on from thinking about it, certain that it couldn't be anything too serious. At least, I could hope that it wouldn't be. Not long after, Doctor Jennings pushed a door open with his back and wheeled me in after him, allowing the door to softly swing shut behind us. When he turned the wheelchair around, I was met by the eyes of my parents, with expressions on their faces that I couldn't quite read. They were expressions that I'd never seen before. They looked almost guilty, yet disappointed and hurt. I didn't understand why.

"Troye, your parents and I need to talk to you about something," Doctor Jennings began.

"You need to get help, baby." Mum burst out and cut Doctor Jennings off, her voice shaky as tears began to roll down her rosy cheeks. It broke my heart to see her cry, but I was on the opposite side of the room and I was unable to walk. All I wanted was to reach out to her and tell her everything would be okay, but I couldn't. I was suddenly unable to speak - words failed me as I watched my Dad wrap an arm around her shoulder and pull her into his chest while holding back his own tears.

"Suicide is a serious matter, Troye. You're lucky that you survived - when your parents found you, they got you here just in time. If it had been any later, there's a high chance that we could've lost you. I'm not going to ask why you did it or what pushed you to attempting to take your own life, but I know someone who can help you." Doctor Jennings explained, and I could've sworn I felt my heart drop into the pit of my stomach.

"What do you mean?" I managed to mumble, barely loud enough for myself to hear.

"I know a specialist from the psychiatric ward who would be perfectly happy to help you with what you're going through. They're trained to work with people like you so they know what they're doing and they can help you. They can help you rebuild your life, Troye. But we can only offer this help to you if you agree to go through with it."

I instantly looked across to my parents. Mum was dabbing at her eyes and cheeks with a tissue to wipe away the tears that were still slowly falling from her eyes. Dad was gazing at the wall behind me, almost as though he refused to make eye contact with me in case he broke down. Suddenly, I felt incredibly lost. I'd barely had the chance to comprehend what had actually happened and now I was being made to make a decision that would be life changing. It hadn't even been forty-eight hours. I no longer felt like the eighteen year old boy who had once had a whole life ahead of him. I felt like the six year old child who was mocked for his passion for singing and unusual interest in the male gender, who constantly turned to his mother to make decisions for him and lead him in the right direction. That was what I needed right now. Feeling my own eyes begin to sting with tears, I felt my face distort as I looked across to her. "Mum.."

Without hesitation, she hurried across the room and wrapped her arms around my shoulders in a tight grip. I held my own arms as tightly as possible around her waist, adamant I would never let her go despite the inevitability that I would eventually have to release her. "What am I supposed to do?" I whispered, trying to ignore my shaky voice.

"Only you can decide what to do with your life now, Troye. You're an adult, you need to make your own decisions." she slowly pulled away, yet kept a firm grip on my hands.

I looked up into her eyes, feeling more vulnerable than the six year old that I once was. "I'm scared."

Her face softened. "I know, baby. But you can't keep running for the rest of your life. You need to get help. I can't risk losing you."

I pressed my lips together and looked at the floor. As I squeezed my eyes shut, a single tear fell from my right eye. However, I couldn't feel anything. I was just numb.

"Okay."

I slowly raised my head and looked past my Mum to make eye contact with Doctor Jennings. "Okay, I'll do it. Whatever it takes. I can't hurt them again."

"Are you sure about this, Troye?" Doctor Jennings asked.

Despite my heart feeling like it was about to burst out of my chest due to my ever-increasing heart rate, I nodded. "One hundred percent."

***

After agreeing to being admitted to the psychiatric ward, Doctor Jennings called in one of the specialists to come and see me. I was lay in bed when they arrived. She was an older lady, not particularly tall but she was strong and she had a warm smile.

"Hello, Troye. I'm Rosa. I hear you're coming to stay with us for a little while."

I nodded. "I figured it was for the best."

"Doctor Jennings wanted me to come and talk to you about the whole procedure. If you're okay to talk at the minute, of course."

I nodded again. "Yeah, sure."

She took a seat beside my bed. "Due to the severity of your condition and your actions taken upon it, you'll be admitted into the crisis stabilisation unit. It's where we can help people going through similar issues that you're facing. Obviously, suicide is one of the most serious forms. We have other units for dealing with less severe cases of mental illness, but your condition is high on the ranking of severity. It's for the best that you do not have contact with anyone outside of the institution unless it's arranged, as it's been proven in previous cases that this can have a negative, or even detrimental effect on the progress of recovery. We'll provide you with any medication and treatment that you need, and it means that we can observe your condition and progress closely to see how you're getting on." Rosa explained, yet it didn't feel like any of the information she was giving me was staying in my brain.

"I'm going to be on my own again, aren't I?" I asked, fear overtaking me.

Rosa shook her head. "Of course not. You'll have us to look out for you and your recovery is our top priority. And there's other patients who you'll be able to interact with if you wish to. The last thing that'll happen is you being on your own. I promise."

I lay back and closed my eyes. "How long will I be away for?"

"I can't give an exact time period because everyone goes through recovery at different paces. But I would say a minimum of four weeks, maybe five. It all depends on your individual progress."

I looked over at her, my blue eyes making instant eye contact with her deep brown. "And when do I go?"

She smiled sympathetically. "Tomorrow."