I lay in my rock hard, uncomfortable twin bed in my hospital room. It wasn't like regular medical rooms in the hospital. It was huge, cold, lonely, white..lonely..lonely..lonely. I stared at the ceiling. I didn't care if I lived or died. I wasn't afraid. Nothing could be more scary that the life I was already living.

It was one a.m. and all I could do was think about was how much I hated myself. I could never forgive myself for what I had done to land myself in the mental ward..and neither could anyone else. "Why? Why did you even tell anybody that you tried to kill yourself? You wouldn't be here if you didn't. You wouldn't be breathing. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

The voices in my head never ceased. Even when I was sleeping I was very much awake. These voices..they never ever stop. They are a constant reminder of all of my mistakes. There was nothing I could do to help myself.

I remember roaming the hallways during the day. I didn't feel like myself. I felt like a completely different person. I longed to see the sunlight outside. I hadn't seen it in days. I wished I could tell my little brother that his Sissy was okay. I had absolutely no access to the outside world except for when my mother came to visit me in the afternoons.

She would show up in her work clothes and I would be eating the tasteless-hospital-grub-that-they-call-food for dinner. I could see that she had been crying and even though she plastered on a smile for me, our meetings were still so painful. Everything was painful at that point. I couldn't even open my eyes without wanting to shut them and go back to sleep, never waking up again. It was messy and pitiful. We both knew it, but we wouldn't dare say it.

She would leave and then group therapy would begin. That's when i would see Jack. He was 17, tall, autistic, loud. I always felt bad for him. I tried to treat him like a friend, but I guess he mistook it as a crush. Before I knew it he was referring to me as "his girl" and he was saying the old "I love you." As badly as I wanted to, I couldn't tell him to stop. He had never experienced someone being so kind to him. If I told him how uncomfortable he was making me, I might shatter his heart and his small world might've come crashing down on top of him. I couldn't let that happen..it just wouldn't have been right. I would've been breaking an already broken soul.

Day after day, Jack talked to me. He gave me advice and told me about all the times he and his grandmother had disagreed and fought over stupid things like what brand of toilet paper to buy. He told me his secrets and he trusted me with things that he'd never trusted anyone else with. All of the therapists and nurses were astonished because I was the only one that Jack opened up to. They would beg and plead but he would never utter a word about his feelings to them. They would always have to come find me and then interrogate me on Jack's issues. It was quite sad, but it made me feel good to know that he found me as trustworthy as he did. I never would've, that's for sure.

My discharge date creeped nearer and nearer. My feelings were split right down the middle. I wanted to leave, but then at the same time, I didn't. I didn't think I was ready. Yes, I wanted to see the sunlight and hold my family close, but so many what-ifs ran through my mind. What if I'm not ready? What if I snap and attempt suicide yet again?

As these things were going through my head, two soft knocks sounded from the doorway. It was Jack and he beckoned for me to come towards him. "H-hi. Are you busy? Can we talk? Just for a minute, I swear." I walked over to the door. He stood there in jeans, a t-shirt and a pair of Vans.

"Hey Jack. What's up?" I asked. I wasn't sure what was about to happen. I braced myself with everything I had. "Well..I'm getting discharged in a few minutes. I just want you to remember me. Take the advice I gave you and don't question it, just do it. I also want to tell you that you are the most beautiful girl I've ever met in my life. You didn't laugh when I messed something up, you didn't back away when you saw me at my weakest point. Thank you so much for that. I love you.."

With that, he turned and started to walk away. "Jack, wait!" I said. I ran towards him and when I got to him, I wrapped my arms around him in an embrace. I knew it was against hospital policy, but I didn't care. I didn't care about much of anything back then. We stood there in the hallway hugging each other for a long time.

When I pulled away from him, I saw that Jack had tears in his eyes. I looked at him for a few seconds and squeezed his hand. "Please be strong..for me." I whispered. Then I dropped his hand and walked back to my room. I sulked and pouted because I just didn't know what to do with myself. Jack was gone now. He was my only friend in there. Everybody else walked around like zombies.

Reflecting back now, I remember Jack as being somewhat of a savior to me. Most thought that I was his, but oh no. That was not how it was. It looked like I saved him, gave him hope for tomorrow. That isn't true though. He did those things for me. He showed me that you don't have to be perfect to be happy.

After I was discharged, I never saw or spoke to Jack again. Even now, I sometimes catch myself wondering if he's okay. I wonder about what he's doing, if he's happy. This is strange, but it almost feels sort of like a mother-son bond. Since he was autistic, he tended to act like a child. But I was okay with that.

I never met anyone quite like Jack. I never felt so connected to someone that I had just met. To me, he was a great, intelligent, caring, amazing boy. To the rest of the world, he was just my friend, Jack.