Chapter 197 : Twenty three

Emmet got to his feet so quickly it hurt the back of my eyes to follow him and I swore I actually saw Esmee shoot fire out of her smoldering black eyes at the same time as she made a deep almost feral growl in the back of her throat her lips curled up in frustration past her teeth like she was actually fighting with the urge to bite the woman in front of her. Whatever had happened the Esmee standing next to my bed now was not the tender loving Esmee that I knew but a worrier of long standing battles she refused to lose.

 “Oh I’m sorry; I was under the impression that you were a doctor!” Esmee hissed through her teeth as she tried to pull her body up to its full height. It was almost impressive, she must have reached five foot one however the doctor standing next to her could have rivaled Emmet’s height so she still looked ridicules anyway. “People with mental health illness need help, not criticism and not someone who wants to deal out some sort of punishment. Its people like you that make people like us not get the help that we so desperately need.”

 Us, something about the simple word sat uneasy with me. Us was a plural word that included herself where she did not belong, us suggested that the help she was on about; the help for an overdose had been needed for herself as well. Us suggested the unthinkable; us suggested that Esmee had once tried to take her life too.

 “Do you think she wasn’t hurting enough? Can you really begin to imagine the shit going on inside of her head to make her want to actually kill herself; to not go on existing! Do you really think she needs to be punished more?” Esmee asked her voice trembling somewhere close to anger even though she tried to remain calm.

 “Easy kitty cat,” Emmet soothed unclenching Esmee’s balled up hands with his own

 “No, I won’t take it easy! It has to be said,” Esmee protested, “she has no idea of how much it hurts and she needs to know before she thinks she is above any of us. I mean would you treat me like you have treated her?” Esmee asked Dr. Webb staring directly into her shell shocked eyes; forcing her to answer. Apparently height didn’t always matter in battle; if it did Esmee would have shot up to ten foot.

 “You haven’t tried to kill you self.” the doctor mumbled

 “Oh but I have, in the past. I have taken no less than twenty three overdoses in my time and thank and never have been treated as appallingly as Mi has been now! I am mental nurse, I work in a hospital full of adolescence with complex issues and I have to speak up for and protect them so that is what I’m doing, Now you’re a doctor so may I quietly suggest that you do your job and give Mi the right medication before I don’t just complain I call the police for abusing the venerable in your care.”