Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep...

They say that the average person who's suicidal often thinks about death as often as he or she desires to end one's life.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep...

The rate of suicides worldwide is nearly the same rate of childhood cancer deaths worldwide.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep...

I honestly don't know why I keep thinking about death because-

Oh, yeah.

My apartment was now decommissioned. I'm jobless and soon penniless. And I've been given the chop by not just my family and ex-girlfriend but also alienated by the dark-haired beauty who was nothing more than Cliff and Monica's yes-woman.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"He's coming around...pump out his stomach..."

"...got disowned by his family...like trash..."

"I heard he...everything in one day..."

"...end of his rope...brought him in before...died..."

Wait, what was going on?

What was all that chatter about me?

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

And what's with that beeping? Am I late for something or...

"Lemmons...my hand if you can hear me..."

I let out a small groan, my eyelids heavy as I felt my stomach lurch forward. Another voice urges someone to close the door and close the blinds before I hear another click. Taking a labored breath, I opened my eyes slowly as I squeezed someone's hand before I was sat up. My vision was blurry briefly before I was able to see where I was. I was lying down on a hospital bed, my right arm cuffed to the bed by an IV drip as I was now wearing a lone hospital gown. I let out a small groan, feeling sick all of a sudden before I began heaving.

"Easy, Mr. Lemmons," the male doctor on my left (an older Hispanic man who looked as if he played professional soccer) as I began to vomit into the bedpan that was immediately placed in front of my face. After a few minutes of vomiting and dry-heaving, a female nurse comes over to wipe my face with a wet cloth just as a dark-skinned policewoman came in with my parents and Sheila following behind him. Neither of the trio looked happy to see me.

"God Almighty," I breathed as I sat back on the hospital bed.

"How are you feeling, son?" the doctor asked me gently as the female police officer came to my right.

"Like I've been hit by a truck," I answered honestly. "I was ready to die."

"Thank God you didn't, sir," the policewoman said gruffly. "Miss Beckham was the one who found you in and out of consciousness while your parents were called up. Needless to say-"

"We don't care at this point, Officer Allen," my father- no wait, Clifford- interjected. "His latest stunt just proves that he can't do anything right, not even kill himself properly."

"Such a shame, really," his wife agreed as she sneered at me.

The doctor stood up straight, a cold look on his face. "Mr. and Mrs. Lemmons, aren't you even concerned about your son's welfare?" he asked formally. "He had a nearly-fatal BAC level that might've killed him in moments. Add in the fact that high levels of Xanax was in his system, and things might've been drastic. We were able to pump out his stomach and have him cleansed through a liquid drip, but his mental state of mind is clearly because of you and Miss Beckham."

Sheila shrugged her shoulders, giving the doctor an "devil-may-care" stare. "He's only being a baby," she rebutted. "And at least my final words for him said it all."

"What words?" Officer Allen asked, not liking what Sheila was saying.

"I told him that I wouldn't be surprised if he had died and nobody showed up at his funeral."

That was more than enough for the doctor, the older female nurse, and Officer Allen to hear. "Please leave," the male doctor said firmly. "I understand that you wished to have him committed for an undetermined period of time, correct?"

"Of course," Monica replied cheerfully as if she was talking about some sale going on at Saks Fifth Avenue. "He means nothing to this family anymore and he's worthless to the world. If it's possible, just give him a lobotomy or just put him down like-"

"Ma'am, I will not hesitate to arrest you if you finish that sentence," Officer Allen said crisply. "I've been watching that reality show of your other children and all, and I wasn't surprised to hear about how you've been treating Mr. Lemmons for the longest. But your statements about him as well as those from the maids and servants just proved that you three are the worst."

"But at least we're better than Ke'Andre," Sheila sneered, her eyes trained on me as if I was trash in her apartment. "He knows it, as should you and the good doctor."

"Come, Monica and Sheila," Clifford said as he led his wife and my ex-friend out of the room. To me, "Ke'Andre, you should've just shot yourself. If you do leave Bellevue, please do yourself a favor and finish the job."

With that, the man formerly known as my father strode out the room, slamming the door so hard it made the nurse jump.

I just shook my head in dismay. "Doc, am I really being committed?" I couldn't help but ask.

The man just nodded. "But only until you've been cleared of any suicidal tendencies," he explained. "Sir, you're very lucky to be alive right now. If not for Miss Beckham, you might not be here."

"She shouldn't have bothered," I groused. "She, my whole family, and my ex-girlfriend all wanted me out of their lives. I wouldn't be surprised if they were planning my exile for years since I lost my home and my job. I was ready to die, you know?"

"I don't wanna ask this given that it's pointless, but do you have anyone who might want to talk to you or see if you were okay?" Officer Allen asked me gently.

I shook my head no. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I'm not a Lemmons anymore. I deserved it all, anyway. I'm never enough for anyone in this world. I have nothing else to live for."

"Everybody has something to live for," the older female nurse told me gently. "And for as long as you're here during the next ninety days, we'll help you find something to live for."

"I dunno, ma'am. If I do find anything, it'll be snatched by the circle of vipers who only view me as their dinner to fight over."

And that's the truth, folks. I'm stuck in the psych ward of Bellevue for ninety days and I'll likely be sleeping in the streets after that. All because I wasn't enough for anyone. What even.

The rocky road to healing begins for Ke'Andre Lemmons, folks! And we'll meet his designated orderlies and female nurse in the next chapter as they give him the tour of Bellevue's psych ward.

I'll be posting Sheila's monologue on my Patreon page, so make sure to subscribe to either the Premium, VIP Suite, or Black Diamond Suite tier-level plans today so you won't miss a thing!

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