"Wakey-wakey, Mr. Lemmons," a gruff older man's voice emanated gently in my ears. "Sorry for disturbing you while you sleep, but I gotta get your temperature."

My eyes fluttered slowly, my vision blurry yet was able to see a hulking male figure stand hovering over me. I felt something like a thermometer being inserted in my mouth and placed under my tongue. I hummed gently.

"Don't try to talk," Gruff scolded gently. "Wait a few minutes."

What is it with people trying to disturb a brother's sleep after a failed suicide attempt? Or is it just me that feels like this?

A soft beep hummed. "Okay. Ninety-seven point 2," the voice said gently. "Don't close your eyes just yet, son. Dr. Melendez is running some tests on your vitals and we need you alert for a bit."

Figures.

No sooner than he left, another nurse (a plump woman) comes in and I soon felt something being wrapped around my arm (the free arm). "Keep awake," the woman said in a melodic accent. "Are you okay, Mr. Lemmons?"

Gee, I'm still waiting to die after being booted from my family, especially when I'm jobless and homeless. What the hell do you think?

Of course, I knew that I couldn't say that to her. "Peachy," I grunted.

"It's a bitch, I know, but this is needed." A bit of silence. Then, "One-hundred seventy over sixty-nine. You're lucky, sir. Okay, hang tight."

I sighed heavily, the waves of dreamlessness calling out to me like a siren tempting me to bliss out. But I knew that the nurses won't take kindly to that if I wasn't compliable. So I had to endure being awake.

Mintues later, a cup of sweet liquid was being placed in front of me. "Drink," someone said gently.

I did so, even if my throat was raw and dry like sandpaper. "Yuch," I whined but the cup was still in front of me. "It's too sweet for me."

"It's to get all the toxins out of you," the voice intoned. "Now, drink."

I kept drinking, just to avoid having a tube being placed in my throat. That wouldn't be fun. It took more than five cups (at least I thought it was) for me to be finished. For the next several hours, I had to let the nurses and various doctors work their magic and run their tests even if I wanted to be left alone and be lost in my own world of self-pity.

I still heard Sheila's final words echo in my head, the same ones that pushed me to my ultimate breaking point.

I wouldn't be surprised if you died today and no one would dare show up at your funeral.

I wouldn't be surprised if you died today and no one would dare show up at your funeral.

I wouldn't be surprised if you died today and no one would dare show up at your funeral.

Why?

Why wasn't I enough for them?

I thought I did everything right- kept my opinions to the side, buried my passions in order to follow the plans meant for their amusement, endured the ridicule. I smiled through the pain.

But they still tossed me to the side as if I was nothing more than broken furniture. Maybe I was.

I dunno about what will happen after today, but I know that I still intend to end it all once I do get out of here. If those den of backstabbing Judas Iscariots want me out of their lives, I would be happy to grant their wish.

It definitely beats living like a vagabond or forced into crime, drugs, or prostitution.

***************

All too soon, it was time for me to be given my new room in the psych ward of Bellevue. After five days of being in the emergency section of the hospital with doctors poking and prodding me while the toxins left my body; it was overdue for a change of scenery.

"Ke'Andre Lemmons?"

I turned around, newly dressed in my all-white clothes (white linen pants and a button-down shirt with donated underwear and a T-shirt) to find the most-unusual sight in front of me: three athletic and healthy middle-aged people- two brunette-haired males who looked like brothers and a short yet athletic blonde young woman- were in the doorway. Behind them was the Hispanic male doctor who was there when I came out of my Xanax-induced coma. "That's me," I said.
,
The young woman stepped forward. "I'm Addison, your designated nurse" she introduced as the two quarterback brothers joined her.

One of the guys had his hair cut shorter and styled in a professional way, his green eyes being full of seriousness. "I'm Oliver," he said, shaking my hand as his twin brother (who had an air of playfulness that showed through his short yet spiky hairstyle and mischievious smirk. "This is Carter, my brother. We're your orderlies who make sure that you're going to remain grounded."

I nodded. "Charmed to meet you," I said crisply, letting Carter and Addison shake my hands as I soon faced the doctor. "And you must be my therapist, sir."

The Hispanic doctor nodded. "I'm Dr. Antonio Melendez," he said  formally, his faint accent laced in his crisp demeanor. "And you are very lucky to still be with us, son. Even more so, given the circumstances you've been dealt with."

I sighed. "Well, Doc, it's not going to look any better unless I was dead or begging for food no thanks to Clifford and Monica Lemmons," I remarked bitterly. "And I rather die than do the latter just to give them comic relief from their worries of luncheons and business deals."

"Do you still think of committing suicide?" Addison asked.

"Why shouldn't I? I mean, I literally have NOTHING left to live for and all the things that I left back at the hotel I was staying in is either going to charity or the dumpster. My ex-girlfriend's practically laughing at me with the one friend who's more like my parents and siblings. I did everything that they demanded and gave up my artistic dreams, only for me to be given the short end of the stick. They took everything left from me. I have nothing else to claim as mine other than this life."

"Everyone has something to live for," Oliver told me firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "You don't know it yet, but you will soon enough."

"Damn right," Carter agreed, his smirk dissipating into a frown. "As for your family? I hated their reality show and they were no better than they are in real life. Addie and I met your parents two days ago while you were being tested and all, and that was enough. They're too much for me."

"It's your mom that's a bit too lofty for me," Addison commented. "She's too much like a snake-charmer who's really a snake in disguise. And don't get me started with that Beckham witch! She calls herself a 'good friend' to you?! If that's true, then I'm Little Boy Blue."

I smiled ruefully. "Then you better blow your horn. 'Cause the sheep's in the meadow and the cows' in the corn," I said, sniggering a bit. "Just a bit of dark humor."

"We'll bet," Dr. Melendez said. "All the same, Mr. Lemmons, you've been hurting for a long time. And based on the files from your previous therapists- if I can ever call them that; they painted you as a lost cause. But once I got a few statements from your former landlord and the other workers at Big Guy Burger, I knew that you were in grave distress and close to destruction no thanks to the expectations placed on you. They denied you a chance to live on your own terms. And as long as you're here, we- your nurse, orderlies, doctors, and myself- will help you get it all back."

I sighed heavily. "I dunno," I said morosely. "I've been walking on water with the chains trying to drown me. Right now, I just wish to be gone."

"That'll make them all happy and prove them right," Addison barked. "And I'll be damned if we're going to let you think that way, Lemmons."

"Ditto for me and Ollie," Carter said, shooting me a dirty glare.

"And that goes double for me," Dr. Melendez said tersely, crossing his arms.

I huffed a breath, looking into their eyes. "Just...don't give me any false hope," I stated. "I rather hear the bitter truth than the sweet lies. That's all I ask."

"You're worth it, Ke'Andre Lemmons," Oliver said gently. "You don't know it yet, but you are."

"For your sake, I hope you're right. I really hope you are."

Looks like Ke'Andre's journey is soon to begin, folks. And with Addison, Oliver, Carter, and Dr. Melendez being on his tail, there's no telling what can happen next. What I will tell you is that Ke'Andre's therapy session with the good doctor is coming up next!

Media: "Walk on Water" by Eminem ft. Beyonce. Dedicating this out to poojawrites.

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