It was two days after Rumi’s sixteenth birthday. Normally, a sixteen year old would be on the high of their life. Rumi’s parents did get her a car and ate cake with her and as much as she appreciated the gesture, she had been in the deepest depression that she had ever faced. In Rumi’s lifetime, she believed that she had always been depressed. At least in any relevant memories she had been.
Now she was sixteen, and it had been five months since she had given birth to her beautiful daughter-only to have that dream ripped away from her. Her parents had demanded that she either get an abortion, give the child up for adoption or she'd be kicked to the curb. With not having the mentality to have an abortion, she decided to carry until full term and then give the child up. What a mistake.
The post-partum depression had only added on to what she already felt. And two days after her sixteen birthday - was the first time she tried to commit suicide. The memories still plague her thoughts. Not because she wants to succeed at it, but because she can remember the way she felt.
It was like she was stopped in the middle of a busy road. Like the 405, but instead of cars whizzing past her - it was her life. The parties blurred together, the one night stands didn't make her feel anything. School was a drag as per usual, and she was just.. not involved. So uninvolved that even her parents took notice - she wasn't up to her usual antics.
It was a typical day for Rumi. She went to school.Troy High School was mundane when it came to Rumi Winslow. She made the grades she needed to, but couldn't care less about schooling at all. In fact, she didn't even make it to her first block. She dipped out twenty minutes after the bell rang. She said goodbye to her friends. She doubted they knew it would be the last time. Or so she thought. She walked out with a cigarette between her fingers, for in her car and headed to her boyfriends.
The reason behind their relationship was because she wanted and needed drugs. He sold them, and it worked out perfectly. She fucked him, one for the road she guessed and then picked drugs from his stash when he was showering. She was supposed to join him, but she took the drugs and went back to her home. And then it was a waiting game. She paced through her room. The drugs in her pocket still.
“Come on Rumi. Get it together.” She whispered to herself, and made her way to her bathroom. She started the tub, and dumped the pills in her hand. She popped them into her mouth and downed them with tequila she had stored under her sink. Then she shrugged out of her coat and tossed it on the ground. She wouldn't be naked when they found her. She wanted that one piece of dignity that she still had.
She stopped the water, she got into the tub. She took a deep breath before reaching for a razor that she had taken from her father's shaving kit.
After she had done the deed, she rested in the tub. Finally at rest. The world went black. She was no longer seeing herself stuck in the standstill. It was all dark. She was happy. Or at least she thought she was.
They say when you die you see a bright light. Rumi saw that bright light as her blue eyes opened. Much to her dismay, her bright light was the fluorescent light of a hospital room. Apparently when coming into her home, she forgot to close the door. Her neighbors called, worried of a break in. They found her bleeding out in the tub, and brought her to the nearest hospital. Subsequently it was the hospital that her father worked in.
Her stomach had been pumped and she had been bandaged up. She could hear her mother talking outside of her room, about a rehabilitation center. Her eyes found her father, who saw her looking through the blinds. He lead her mother into the room. They went on and on about how they loved her. Bullshit. They wanted her to get better, and clean up her act. Whatever.
“Rumi, we’re sending you to rehab.”
That's all she heard. A drug rehabilitation center, that would help her work out everything going on her mind. They would help her. She couldn't believe the bullshit that spewed from them. It didn't matter though. Three days later, she was being welcomed into her room for the next few months. Concrete floors and concrete walls. Home sweet home.
The times that that period of her life passes through her mind, Rumi is glad she made it out. Those were absolutely the darkest days that she had seen so far. It had been seven years to the day, and all she wanted to do was get through it.
