Chapter 2

I sat on my bed, fiddling with my fingers whilst I let the tears fall down my cheeks. I was supposed to be in therapy in ten minutes but right now, I just want to be alone. When I got back to my room, after the episode in the Reck room, I had attempted to find my razor, the blade that temporarily removes the voice in my head. I had kicked the bed and threw opened boxes in anger, only wanting her to leave me alone.

Your a disgrace.

No one cares about you.

Danny cares.

Really? Then why isn't he here?

He doesn't know.

Or doesn't care.

Your wrong.

I'm never wrong.

At her last comment, I launched a book across the room in frustration. The doctors say it's good for me to release my anger. I don't believe them. They don't know how I feel, or what goes on in my head. They can't even begin to imagine the torture the voice causes me. 

Maybe releasing my anger does help. I fight back but it never makes her leave. Only harm does that. I continued to smash the room up in search of help. I never admit to myself that I do need help. I don't want to admit it. No one ever does, so why would I be any different. Admitting is my first sign of failure. A sign that she wins. I can't ever let her win

But I always win.

No.

The pain was growing fast and I desperately needed a way out. Something to switch her off. At least for a couple of hours.

Tick tock.

Shut up.

I screamed in fear as I flung the last draw across the floor. I bet they found it, I bet the doctors took away the only thing keeping me sane. I took one last look before collapsing on the floor in hysterics. I slid down the wall, gripping my head as I shivered in horror.

My eyes glanced to the left, spotting something I hadn't seen in months. The only thing I had grabbed before I ran to this place. I had forgotten it.

Slowly, I lifted my hand, which shook violently and placed it gently on the book. My whole body suddenly became calm and relaxed as the room held a silence. My fingers caressed the leather skin and the golden pattern, that could send you into a trance. Cautiously I picked up and held it to my chest, my chin resting on the top of it. I carefully stood up and headed towards my bed. I sat down, crossing my legs as I wiped away a tear, that layed on my cheek.

Opening the book, my heart melted at the images in front of me. Images of them. Images of him. Danny, my family. Good times. Times when we were all free.

A photo of Danny and I, making cake and covered in batter made me smile but another of my family making funny faces at the camera, from Christmas last year, made the tears return. Nothing can change what happened but I wish I could go back.

So many memories surrounded this book, making me sob continuously.

It should have been you.

For once I believed her.

I know.

I couldn't bare to look at the memories any more, so I shoved the book forward, watching it slide across the bed until it came to a stop.

That's how I got here. Ten minutes until my therapy but i'm too ashamed to leave the room. I want to be alone. I am alone. What if she is right? What if Danny doesn't care?

He doesn't

Liar

Prove it.

I can't.

God I hate her so much but it is as if she controls my body sometimes. Not physically...I don't know how to describe it. She is just there, constantly invading my thoughts, listening in. She is the main reason I am slowly falling apart. I can't control her. She does what she wants, comes and goes whenever she pleases. Every chance she gets, she pounces...attacks and doesn't stop until she wins.

Some people get nice voices in their heads, who compliment them and help them through life. Mines a b***h, dragging me away from all insanity and she is winning because that's exactly how people see me as...

Crazy.

But I'm not crazy.

Denials not just a river in Egypt.

I decided to blank her out as hard as that may sound. The scrap book still fills most of my mind right now though. I don't know hoe I forgot it. Was I forgetting them? Did I want to remember?

They don't want to know you

The only sound, apart from her irritable voice, is the only more annoying sound of the ticking of a clock. It sits by my bed and I'm surprised I haven't smashed it to pieces yet. They scrape against your eardrums and then your left with that annoying sound stuck in your head, for the next 24 hours.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Go away.

Never gonna happen.

I groaned internally, picking up a pillow with a tight grip and smashing it against my face. Why can't life be simple?

At the same time, someone knocked on the door and I hit myself with the pillow again, knowing what was coming.

"Grace. Time for your meeting with Mr Taylor." Her angelic voice informed.

Meeting? Yeah right...that's their nice way of saying therapy. Apparently they can't actually say therapy though because it offends some people. Of course there's noting better than sitting in a small office, whilst someone spits out completely, useless advice to you. At least I will be free from her for a while.

They can't save you. No one can.

Or not.

I take a detour route to Mr Taylor's room, hoping to avoid the full session, even though he may just increase the next one. Once I reach his room, I knock gently on the door until I heard the familiar 'come in.'

Not that I have a choice. I have to be here.

"Ahh grace, please take a seat." He said, gesturing towards the comfy chair.

The room was the only one not painted one, that I have yet to encounter in the entire institute. The walls were painted light blue with his oak wood desk in the centre. To the left was a random plant and to the right were every ones files in draws. It was just a plain office with nothing special about it apart from the colour.

I follow the direction he is pointing, taking a seat. he looks at me with a concerned look. You think they would have given up by now as I don't talk. They never learn.

Just like you. Your just a dumb Dyslexic.

"So Grace. Are you going to talk today?" He asked, already knowing the answer. We have the same conversation each time and technically it is not a conversation because that requires two people to speak to each other. I never speak.

I simply stare down at the floor. That's another thing about me, I don't like eye contact. I rarely make it. That's because a persons eyes can tell a thousand stories and i don't want anyone to know my story. If they don't see, then they can't judge.

But I can.

"The doctors said you had a meltdown earlier. Want to talk about it?" He questioned, praying for an answer.

No.

Cat got your tongue?

Why would I tell them anything.

"Grace if you don't talk, we can't help you." He pushed, searching for a reply.

You can't help me. That's what I wanted to say but my mouth stayed shut and I stayed silent. I didn't want to talk. Danny is the only person I would talk to but I can't.

"We want to help you Grace and the way I see it is, you don't believe we can help..." That's because you can't. "I know there is a voice in your head telling you bad things..."

I'm not.

"But you need to control it..."

I can't.

No she can't.

"You can't let her win..."

I'm already winning.

"You need to open up. Take your time but it will be better to open up now than later." He finished.

Don't listen to him.

Or I should't listen to you!

No...If you tell, they will lock you up. Remember it's all your fault.

Shut up.

Make...me.

"Your free to leave Grace." Mr Taylor said, breaking the argument.

I hadn't realised my fists were clenched until I bolted up and ran out of the room. I didn't look back. 

It's only a matter of time.

Until what?

You'll see.

The voice this time felt like it was right behind me. It was as if I could feel her breath on my shoulder. My head snapped to the side as I quickly looked behind me. I could have sworn I saw the voice in my head, standing there, smirking at me. I didn't have a chance to check though because I collided with something.

Or rather someone.

Paper flew and i was quick to crouch down and help retrieve everything.

"I'm sorry. i wasn't looking where I was going which is ironic because I can't see much. That's what you get when you loose most of your eyesight in a car crash. Now I only see shadows and...I'm rambling aren't I." He apologised and I giggled. Wait...I did what?

I looked up to be met with an unfamiliar face. This must be the new guy everyone was talking about. 

I did something I haven't done in forever. I made eye contact. I quickly studied him, noticing he has the most gorgeous chocolate brown eyes. His dark hazelnut hair was swept to one side and his face held the perfect smile which showed off his dimples. 

We both reached forward to grab the same piece of paper, our hands brushing which made me smile a little.

I was the first to stand up and then I helped him up. He was slightly taller than me and his body was well build. He was mysterious, I could already tell that. I liked it.

"I'm Ty by the way." He introduced, holding his hand out for me to shake. If it wasn't for his rambling speech a minute ago, there was no way on this earth I would believe he is blind. 

I don't know how it happened or why it happened but suddenly everything else faded whilst my voice returned.

"Grace." It was barely audible but I knew he had heard it because he smiled.

"Grace, I like it...You know I can't see you but your white shadow looks kind and genuine but also lost. I..." 

"Ty, Mr Taylor is ready for you." A new voice, called interrupting him. 

"I guess I'll see you around Grace." He sighed, heading towards the office.

"I guess you will." I whispered. 

I don't know how he can tell I'm lost just by seeing my shadow but more importantly why did I speak? I don't speak to anyone I don't trust and I don't trust anyone. There is something about Ty though, he knows nothing of me but I feel the need to trust him.

I do trust him.

Tick tock.

.......................

Reviews

[Richy]

A very nice plot, it seems as though the experiences of institutionalized people are becoming quite popular. I like the sense of mystery that you put behind her, always leaving us pondering what exactly happenned that caused this "normal" girl to break down and end up submitting herself to an institution. When it comes to fixing, there's grammar (just about everyone needs to work on it, so don't fret too much), which, as I recommend to many people, get another person to proofread (it's too hard too pinpoint every grammar mistake in this box). For the prologue, might I suggest a more sense of mystery? Don't reveal too much about how she feels, try to show a more confused side as she struggles with her thoughts, that kind of thing. It'll leave readers even more intrigued as they try to figure out her character.

[SociallyAwkward]

Thank you for your feedback I will keep it mind. In the prologue I wanted to get across her feelings and the mystery is actually what happened but thank you for your opinion and thank you for reading :D

[Wolven]

A very strange few opening chapters, but there is great content, and a huge amount of potential as well. I like how you have staged the arguments between Grace and her little mind buddy. It's quite interesting really. Frankly, it is quite dark by nature, but it has its light points, such as when she says that a little Romance is good now and then, which i sortof have to agree with.
I also find a great likeness in this to a book I have read called "The Catcher In The Rye" if you've ever heard of it. its about a disillusioned teenager in the mid 1950's. I suggest you read it at some point as it could give some depth to the way teenagers generally think. Though its clear the girl has been diagnosed with Schizophrenia, I believe it may help somewhat, especially in the type of language she uses. a few colloquialisms here and there wouldn't do any harm either, like.
Overall, great stuff, but still in need of a bit of work. I enjoy reading this, and look forward to reading more of this!

[SociallyAwkward]

Thank you for your feedback. I will keep it mind, glad you like it though. I may have to look at that book as well :D