( trainwreck )

[Asphodel Monroe]

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you wont go to the doctor hes just calling you insane[/font]
your lost even when your going the right way[/color][/font]
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Asphodel didn't have the perfect life, she didn't pretend to have the perfect life to be perfectly honest her life sucked. She didn't want it any more, she had never been happy since the car accident that killed her parents, after all it was her fault that they died. It was her fault that they were taking her to the school that night to see a little local band then they got hit by a car. She hadn't been the same since then. But then again who would be the same after you were the only survivor in a really bad car accident. She had been restless, and she was always in trouble after that. She had been to more adoptive homes in the past year most people have in their whole lives and on top of that she was on probation for getting in fights, breaking curfew, stabbing some one and a couple of other things to. She wanted death more then anything, she wanted to be dead. She didn't deserve to live because she had nothing to live for any more. She usually didn't get attached to families when she got adopted because she knew it was going to end quickly, no one liked her enough to keep her and it was the worst feeling in the world always having to move, always having to start a new school and always getting kicked back out. She thought she had finally found the perfect family for her, the McLintock's were great. Or at least the dad was. He was so sweet, he always took Ash places with him and he was helping her work on getting a singing career because he thought she was really good. She was so happy with him, but her new 'mom' didn't like the fact that she was stealing so much attention. She was a nurse, and started bringing home syringes of sedatives. Ash was still a little restless at times and when she acted out she would get sedated and drug up to her bedroom where the door would be locked and shed have to lie there useless until it wore off.

This started happening more and more recently. It started making Ash paranoid. The drugs were getting to her, shed wake up screaming from nightmares that she didn't have before, Rachel was starting to convince Daniel that Ash was crazy, mentally unstable and belonged in a mental hospital. Ash was just depressed, the only thing she needed help with was her addiction to slitting her wrists. Ash didn't like being depressed, she just wanted to be happy. Her eyes flickered open and she looked around trying to remember the events that happened that morning. She couldn't even remember. She just knew that she felt like her entire body was on fire. She moved her fingers, then her toes and started moving her legs and arms to loosen them up. She was in a white night gown and she noticed the dot marks on her arms that made her look like a drug addicted, Rachel always said she was to hide the fact she did that to her. She ran her fingers over the new scars on her arms from a few days ago and looked around. She still felt dizzy, like she was going to pass out. She took it slow though, putting on a pair of black skinny jeans and a quarter sleeve slim fit gray and black striped shirt. Slipping on her converse she ran her fingers threw her straight brown hair and did her make up. She had almost flawless skin, she really was gorgeous she just was to depressed to see it. She did her eye liner and put some red lip stick on, it made her feel better some times. Reaching into a jewelery box she pulled out a necklace that had a diamond guitar on it and slipped it around her neck. It was her mothers favorite necklace, and now Ash never went any where with out it. She was happy it was raining, her favorite weather. After looking in the mirror she realized that she didn't really want to be around any more. She was done finding new family's and being treated like she was crazy. She didn't want to do it any more.

She made her way down the stairs of the large mansion. She walked out into the backyard picking up her favorite stuffed dog on the way. She had it since she was a baby, it was the first thing her real parents ever gave to her. The one thing that like the necklace mattered to her more then anything. She stood in the rain, looking around and up at the sky closing her eyes. She walked back inside shaking from head to toe and dripping wet. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a pairing knife out of the drawer. sliding the cover off of it she walked into the family room and felt tears fall down her cheeks. She sat on the white carpet and placed the knife to her wrists right above where she knew there was a vain. She did a few shallow cuts and watched the blood flow from her arm to the white carpet bellow her. She stood up, her vision blurred a little bit as she walked back towards the back yard. It was raining and freezing out side, probably on the verge of snowing, just the way she liked it. She stood in the rain, the knife coming down across hes wrists, she made sure to drag it deep and hard and blood started pouring as it cascaded down her other arms and over the old scars. She did it to her other hand and after a few minutes she dropped to the concrete as the blood washed away from her arms and continued to gush. The rain quickly turned into snow and started to fall softly on her. Her delicate pale cheeks had streaks from her eye liner and tears, the snow that built up around her started turning red from her wrists. She was growing more pale, her lips were starting to turn blue. She was finally close to death. She stopped breathing just as her father walked in and noticed the blood. He followed the trail to the backyard and almost had a heart attack when he saw her. He called 911, shortly after an ambulance arrived. They got her on a gurney, attempting to get her to breathe again. The hospital was only a few minutes away, it was almost just down the street but by the time they got there and busted threw the doors the medics were all ready covered in blood and one was on the gurney performing CPR and trying to get her to not only start breathing but to get her heart to start working again to. They started putting warming blankets over here and put pressure on her wrists, the blood was dripping onto the floor as she prayed for death to take her. She was never lucky enough to succeed.



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[Dr. Gregory House]

The emergency room was anything but a place to relax. People crying in pain, people complaining about the pain, people complaining about the crying, and the doctors and nurses trying to help it all made the hustle and bustle overwhelming. Well, to most people it would be. To Dr. Gregory House, it was kind of like a waiting room. Thanks to a sudden overflow, the desk there had been cleared right out of people, giving him a convenient seat to weed out the wastes of time and the worthwhile cases from a distance. Maybe he was just playing a game in his head. After all, it's not often a doctor will sit there and attempt to diagnose a few people by simply staring at them. In a way, that kind of was what he was attempting to do. Some cases were obvious; fell out of a tree and need stitches. Some where a bit harder, or a least seemed hard when the doctor wasn't willing to walk over and talk to them. No, he wasn't trying to cure anyone during his break, but he had to admit that this was an interesting enough train of thought.

Still, it wasn't like he was wasting his time. Technically, he was waiting for someone. That someone just so happened to be an ex-employee of his who works here now and just so happened to give enough of a damn to add her two cents to his cases when he harassed her. House for once had to admit that he needed some commentary to his work while his actual employees were away. So, here he waited, sitting on the rolling chair like a lump, and watching the other doctors fall head over feet with their work. For him, that was rather typical.

What wasn't typical was the sudden burst of the doors flying open, the shouting of multiple voices, and the details being barked out by an EMT. That was more than enough to turn the bored doctor's head. The rolling chair twisted with him as he saw the gurney, coated with blood, being rushed into the hospital. It was nothing new. House patiently waited for a very brief second to see exactly where they rolled the gurney, which would be the deciding moment on how long he watched. The moment it was rolled into one of the resuscitation bays, he decided that he may be watching for a good while.

Tubes were hooked up, doctors were panicked, and real emergency action was taken. Gregory watched calmly as they made every attempt to restart the girl's heart and hear those lifesaving breaths. A dangerous amount of time passed. He was almost tempted himself to limp over and bark out his own commentary if they didn't get a response soon. Any longer and they risked brain damage. However, the tension in the air was soon relieved. The surrounding doctors could suddenly breathe freely again, just as the unconscious girl had begun to. House sighed without any emotional motivation. It was a moment of excitement, but it didn't last very long at all. Until, of course, the ever nosy genius took a closer look at one of the monitors.

It may just be his imagination, but his interest was peeked none the less. Grabbing his cane and his coffee, House strode over to the bay at his own pace. A few glances were shot his way as he stuck his nose where it probably didn't belong. The source of the massive amounts of blood were revealed with huge gashes covering the patient's arms. A suicidal teen; there's something predictable. House wasn't even phased by the sight as he focused om his real interest: her lungs. For seconds, he watched her chest laboriously rise and fall, and then diverted his gaze to the monitor. Of course, she was having breathing problems. He ought to be more alarmed if she wasn't. After all, she almost died right there. That wasn't the issue though. The issue was how the labored breathing appeared to be itself. A few questions came to mind, but he knew that they would be ignored if spoken now. Not everyone is that attentive to a minor flaw when a young woman is bleeding to death.

A few doctors were left nearby to mess with a few of the machines supporting her, but Dr. House remained useless to the common eye. Instead of offering assistance, he limped away, only to return with that rolling chair mentioned earlier. No one was going to miss it. He rolled closer to the girl's bed, took a swig of his drink, and waited for her to wake up. If she was fully intent on dying, then the questions he was ready to ask wouldn't upset her at all. Which was good for him, because Cuddy would have his head if he freaked her out and sent her into another state of unconsciousness.

[Asphodel Monroe]

[/SIZE][/color][/font]
you wont go to the doctor hes just calling you insane[/font]
your lost even when your going the right way[/color][/font]
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She was so close to death this time, she always got so close she was almost there but some one always had to save her. She wanted to die, couldn't they get over the fact that not every one wanted to be saved? The doctors got her heart to start beating again and they got her start breathing again. They managed to stitch up her wounds and she was under several blankets recovering from the hypothermia. Yet she was still broken and you could tell that she was broken. But she didn't want any one to fix her. She was convinced she could do it on her own and if it never happened then she would be broken till she actually managed to kill her self, or until the cancer that she didn't know about yet killed her. Her life was full of disappointments, she didn't know if she could take another one. She just wanted it to all be over, was that so much to ask? She was perfectly fine with dieing in the snow. She could bleed to death, freeze to death, there were lots of ways she could have died today. Many ways she wanted to die, yet here she was. Laying on a hospital gurney with an oxygen tube in her nose, an IV of blood in her arm and blankets keeping her warm. If she was so determined to kill her self then why couldn't she ever do it right? Was she so pathetic that she had to fail at suicide to? She was surprised they weren't strapping her down to her bed yet...That would probably come later. If there was a later. Maybe if she played her cards right and was a good little girl then they would let her go home and she could take a razor blade to her throat, press hard and drag deep..or Fall off a really tall building. That could work to. Plus it would be quick, except for the fall...That would be a little nerve wrecking.

Asphodel was perfectly content with never waking up. She didn't want to wake up and she didn't want them to stitch her up. Why did no one get the fact that she wanted to die? They always had to save her, in her opinion if some one is trying to kill them selves they should let them because its what she wanted. It was a little after she had been stitched up that her eyes slowly opened. She was getting her body heat back and her face was regaining a little bit of color. She was naturally really pale so she didn't gain that much color back. Opening her eyes things were blurry, and bright. She didn't really know where she was but she was guessing it was a hospital and it was kind of freaking her out. Ever since she moved in with her new set of parents and her step mom started sedating her so she would be out of the way, she had become very scared of doctors and she was feeling extremely anxious the more she noticed the people in the room. Her breathing picked up and she went to move but noticed she had heavy blankets over her. She wanted to go home and she wanted to go home now. She managed to push some of her blankets off and was shivering from how cold she was. She used her arms to push her self up but they gave out and she fell back down. Apparently she didn't have the strength to run away. She was panting, it felt like some one stabbed her in the chest. "What happened?" She managed to whisper as she looked around, she was piecing things together but she wanted to know why she couldn't leave. She knew it was a stupid question and she could feel the tears falling faster down her face as she hid her arms under the blankets and started trying to pick the stitches out. She stopped realizing that they were pretty in there.

"Don't answer that." It was a stupid question, one that didn't need to be answered. Asphodel was a bit confused. She still didn't really grasp the situation, sure she had been in a hospital before where she was stuck in an empty white room under a 32 hour suicide lock down but even that time was different. She was violent at that time so she was bound to the bed so she couldn't hurt the staff or her self. She was wondering if that was going to happen this time. It was a little different at every hospital so she wasn't sure how it was going to go about. She was hopping they would just let her leave once she was patched up and her dad came to get her if he hadn't gone back to Hollywood by now. She was trying to keep it calm and collected so they wouldn't strap her down or stick her in a squishy white room. Straight Jackets were illegal thankfully but she didn't want any type of restraint to have to be an option. Be restrained sucked, her new mom had done it to her a few times when she jammed a syringe in her arm to sedate her if she acted out a little. That thought made her shiver and it brought on the building paranoia. Were the people here going to help her or hurt her? She couldn't tell the difference any more. She stopped trying to pick her stitches out and rested them by her sides, her defenses were kicking in. This was going down hill and she knew that it was. She took a deep breath and realized that it actually hurt to do so. Maybe it was because she was still freezing from lying in the snow, she was thankfully getting the little bit of color she had back in her face, she didn't know that it was really from all the sedatives being pushed into her system by her mom. Her arms had pin pricks in them and made her look like a druggie. But she wasn't, she hated it when her mom sedated her when she acted up. It wasn't fair. "Who are you?" She questioned turning her head to House as she took another deep breath that hurt just as much.



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[Dr. Gregory House]

As the minutes have passed, House's curiosity hadn't been capable of dying down, but that didn't mean that his patience wouldn't wear thin. He found himself testing the limits of the back of the chair he had stolen from the desk by leaning back as far as he could without falling. It wasn't his fault that they made those types of chairs so weak. More often than not, he was drinking down more of his coffee until there was little but a sip left. All in all, he appeared way too casual for someone who could very well be on suicide watch.

Finally, his bored eyes caught the slightest bit of movement from the blanket covered lump on the bed. House's spine straightened from a dangerously far lean, then angled itself again as he leaned forward. With one hand wrapped around the cup and the other on his cane, he restarted the waiting game to see if she could even talk. For a while, all he watched was movement. Much to his disappointment, it was rather predictable movement. There was the wave of surprise, disappointment, (Which only confirmed the suicide-theory.) and discomfort. Usually, he'd never be considerate enough to let these phases pass before cutting to the chase, but this time was different. The only time he had ever encountered a obviously suicidal patient before that didn't have obvious mental problems happened all too suddenly for him to notice anything strange. This was much different than watching a guy shove a knife into a light socket, although more boring.

He let out a small groan as he watched the girl suddenly take interest in pulling out her stitches. The temptation to push her hand away from her arm with the tip of his cane hovered about for a moment, but she seemed to realize how futile the effort was and gave up before House even flexed the muscles to do so. She also made a pathetic attempt to push the blankets away, which is one attempt he made no effort to stop. If anything, he was pleased by it, for it allowed him a clearer view of her arms. Clearer, of course, not only meant that now he could see the full extent of her stitches, but he could now see the obvious trail of cuts and needle marks. No big surprise there whatsoever.

Then, she spoke, but only if you consider a pathetic whisper a statement. Her words sounded so stupid as they passed her lips that House didn't even bother responding. Just give her a few seconds and she'll answer her own question. Sure enough, that she did. One more thing for the observer to be thankful for, so now he could actually focus on what he knew so far. It was a good thing that he was honing his skills in the ER right before this, considering that he already had a theory just by watching the teen for this long. The needle marks on her arm made her breathing condition much more clear, and therefore much more boring. Suddenly, there was no enigma here. There wasn't even a mystery in why a teenage girl would attempt to kill herself, because we all know how typical a story that is. It was either problems with friends or problems with family. Same old story over and over again.

The girl spoke up again, and yet again it was with something stupid. House rolled his eyes in annoyance already, and she had only just woken up. He took the final gulp from his coffee and set the cup down on the floor beside him. With his good leg, he rolled the chair a tad bit closer to the patient.

"You don't seem like the type of person who has good ideas very often, so why don't I ask the questions," he began apathetically. There was no hesitation to attack her so quickly. If she wanted sympathy, she was going to get it from every other bleeding-hearted doctor in this hospital. House tapped the cane against the ground for a moment to fill the gap of silence that would surely pass between that comment and the next.

"Now, pardon the pun, but don't you think that drugs and slitting your wrists is a bit of overkill?"

[Asphodel Monroe]

[/SIZE][/color][/font]
you wont go to the doctor hes just calling you insane[/font]
your lost even when your going the right way[/color][/font]
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She was figuring this guy would be the same as all the rest of them. "Yeah good ideas aren't exactly my forte considering I should probably come up with something more inventive that will actually kill me." She wasn't really sure what to do. She wanted to go home but her dad had dropped off a bag full of clothes, her guitar, and a stuffed dog that looked a little worn but it was in good shape no matter what. The stuffed dog was the only thing Ash had left to hold onto. She loved that thing more then anything in the world. Her dad had told them to give it to her if she started acting up. She felt like such a little kid but it worked. He was all ready gone though, on a plane back to Hollywood where he always was. She was so used to being alone. She watched him look at her arms and she tucked them back under the blankets. "I don't do drugs. I don't like needles." And that was true, it sounded like a lie but it wasn't. She hated needles, she got held down and given sedatives at home every chance rachel got and it made her paranoid

Her stomach was starting to turn and it felt like she had a fever crawling over her body despite the fact she was still freezing. She closed her eyes and was about to fall asleep until she heard another nurse come in the familiar sound of a cap being taken off a syringe needle. Her eyes snapped open and she turned her head and saw a male nurse walking towards her with the syringe. He was just going to draw some blood to test it to make sure there was nothing wrong with her but she didn't know that. In her mind she thought he was going to try to sedate her, the many times her new mom had done it flashed into her head and she tensed up. "Don't." Her voice came out as a squeak and she felt her self starting to panic. He was going to hurt her, she knew it and she knew she had to run. She wasn't going to be hurt by any one but her self, she didn't know he was actually trying to help her.

She sat up and could feel her heart start to race. Once the nurse was close enough she swung a fist hard and hit him right in the face. She was small but she was good at fighting so it caused him to stumble and she threw the blankets back and ripped off everything attached to her, she ripped out needles that were in her arm as well. She slipped out of the bed, her legs were wobbly and she used the wall for support but she managed to get out of the room and down the hall ways rather quickly. She was pushing and trying to open doors, every one was looking at her like she was crazy, and right now she kind of was. She finally found an unlocked supply closet and shoved the door open and shut it quickly hiding in the corner. She hugged her knees to her chest and started sobbing into them trying to hide her self. She wasn't going to let any one touch her, she wasn't realizing that because of this whole episode she was making her self look even worse. She just wanted to die or go home. She was preferring death. She could feel her self shaking and her breathing felt more difficult, running was a bad idea. Freaking out was a bad idea. She closed her eyes and hopped it would all be over.



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POST STATUS:[/color] COMPLETE
TEMPLATE CREDIT TO:[/color] sydknee says!
BANNER CREDIT TO:[/color] person!
LYRICS CREDIT TO:[/color] Demi Lovato
ROLEPLAYING WITH:[/color] House/Open
WHERE WE AT?:[/color] ER
WORD COUNT:[/color]
LOOKING LIKE:[/color] outfit here!
NOTES:[/color] Yay
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