Disclaimer: I don't own any Elijah (sadly, he belongs to himself), but the rest of the characters are my freakish creation.

This fan fiction is rated PG-13, but is mostly mild, with the occasional harsh language.

Also, this is MY story (please do not plagiarize)...Yes, the story is inspired by the book Cut by Patricia McCormick, but I didn't take anything directly out of the text. If I add anything that is not mine, I will be sure to document it and give the true author the credit.

Prologue

Behind every scar, there is a painful story waiting to be told. That story is my life. It’s one big blur of blood, tears, and scar tissue. Cutting, some call it; channeling emotions into deliberate self-destruction. Coping, I call it. People cope with shit every day. Some people drink, others invest in a talent, and those who have no booze or talent cut. It’s a simple fact, yet people see it as some sort of mental disorder.

Then, of course, there is the question, “Why?� “What in your life made you do this to yourself?� There is no simple answer to this question. However, it all starts with one big explosion, detonating a flood of other problems.

My dad died when I was thirteen. After that, things just keep building up. Moving, new friends, depressed mom, dating mom, shitty boyfriends, poor grades, married mom, step dad, stress, pressure—until your brain just can’t handle it anymore, and you finally break out the ol’ razor blade and slide it up your arm a couple of times.

At first, the pain is immense, but finally the throbbing subdues and you’re left with a huge feeling of freedom. With each new cut, the pain becomes less. And with each new cut, the relief becomes greater.

:cry:
I think it's sad!
I wonder what that girl has been through!
must be hard if she starts cutting herself!

looks good!
keep 'em coming!

Ahh... Sounds like it's going to be pretty sad...

Chapter 1

Tears stream down my cheeks as I slide the jagged blade along my thigh, a line of scarlet liquid appears beneath it. At the sight of my own blood, an immense feeling of relief washes over me. My once gasping, uneven breaths become tranquil, and my hands cease to tremble. I lean my head back against the tile bathroom wall and let myself bleed. After a few deep breaths, my thoughts drift back to just forty-five minutes earlier…

�You gossiping bitch!� my boyfriend, Brett, screams as he slaps me across the face. “I told you to just forget about it. Instead, you blab it to the whole school.� I cower against the brick alley wall, shielding my face from his forceful blows, as he continues to rant and rave. I know why he is mad, and I know it is my fault. Brett had jumped a kid in the school parking lot the other night. The kid had been stabbed, robbed, and left to die. Now he was in the hospital with a collapsed lung. He told me to shut up about it, if I knew what was good for me, but I had to tell; it was the right thing to do. When I spilled the beans, I was assured that my name would remain anonymous, but somehow it got out. Even the most guarded secrets can slip.

From down the hall, I hear the back door open. My mom and stepfather, Jerry, are home. I silently pray that they won’t try to look for me. To my surprise, the door opens again, the car starts, and they are gone just as quickly. Heaving a sigh of relief, I pull myself back up to a sitting position, and examine my incision. Perfect. Not too deep, but just deep enough. Blood and gore used to make me queasy; how quickly you get over that when the sight of a bleeding wound is the highlight of your day.

The bleeding has stopped, so I slide open a drawer and pull out the band-aids. The cut is long, and it takes three or four to bandage it completely. Standing up, I un-roll the leg of my pants, and walk over to the sink. I squeeze soap onto my blade and begin to scrub it thoroughly. I always make sure to clean my blade, and carefully care for my wounds, making sure there is never any infection.

Shaking my hands free of excess water, I reach for a towel and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror. My cheek is still red where Brett slapped me, and a purple bruise protrudes from my left eye, just above my eyebrow. That’s gonna take some work to cover.

I hide my blade, and wander back into my room, throwing myself down onto my bed. Reaching up, I find the dial for my stereo, and flip it on. Evanescence blares out of the speakers. Like always, the vulnerable lyrics are further soothing, and eventually I fall asleep, sprawled out on my bed.

this is where a disclaimer was...but i moved it to the first post...yup

This sounds interesting! I want to know more!

Post soon, pease?

~Hanna ™

Yay! You posted!!!! This is so sad. Everything in her life is so wrong. :cry:
You're writing is beautiful. Please post more! :love:

~Hanna™

Chapter 2

I wake up shivering. Rolling over, I look at the clock. It’s 12:30. My stomach growls and I wonder why nobody woke me up for dinner. I sit up and look around, my CD has ended, and outside my window, everything is dark. Briefly, I consider creeping down the hall to the kitchen, but decide against it and pull back the sheets on my bed.

I lay on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I’m not tired. Sitting up, I reach over and slide a magazine off my nightstand. Flipping through the pages, I stop at a personality quiz. It’s called “Do you have low self esteem?� I decide to take it.

Question 1:

If you were an insect, you’d be:
a ) A butterfly
b ) A ladybug
c ) An ant

My GOD! What kind of a question is that? I sigh and shut the stupid magazine.
Instead, I decide to do some homework. Flipping through the pages of my math book, the figures are foreign to me. Did I even learn any of this? Slowly, I write one of the problems down. Simply writing it jumbles my brain. My mind begins to wander, and I find myself thinking about Brett, wondering how I got so mixed up with him.

I’d met him at a party about a year ago. He was a junior while I was a sophomore. I remember feeling so out of place as my best friend, Tierra Mitchell, made her rounds flirting with all the older guys—none of whom I knew. Brett came up to me in the corner where I’d been sitting alone. Almost immediately, we hit it off. He cheered me up and made me fell good about myself. For the first few months, our relationship was awesome, we were inseparable, I even stopped cutting during that time. But then Brett started drinking. His temper got really bad, and he started getting angry every time I’d call my friends without checking with him first. Pretty soon, I was only allowed to hang out with my old friends when Brett was busy and didn’t have time for me. I started thinking it was my fault that he’d stopped calling, so I tried harder to be the girlfriend he wanted. I even let him pressure me into sex before I was ready.

Tears spring to my eyes. I reach up and push play on the stereo. Leaning back on my pillow, I let the music lull me back to sleep.

so...uh, what does everybody think?

Chapter 3

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! My alarm clock screams in my face. I rub my eyes and roll over. God, I feel like shit. Dragging myself out of bed, I stumble into the bathroom to take a shower. I turn the water to the hottest I can stand, and let the steamy downpour rinse away all of the previous day’s problems.

Feeling somewhat better, I dress and leave for school. At school, I quickly spot Tierra near the vending machines. She rushes over, fighting her way through the throng of teenagers. As she approaches, her cheerful expression turns to one of disgust when her eyes fall upon my new bruise.

“Charmin, what’s that?� .

“What’s what?� I ask, trying to avoid her questioning gaze.

“That bruise. It wasn’t there yesterday. Where did it come from?� She gets closer, her eyes narrow, and inquiring.

“Oh, that. I…uh…� I’ve run out of excuses, there’s no way to cover this one.

“Charmin, did he hit you again?� A look of deep concern comes into her eyes as I bow my head. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna put up with that anymore.�

“I know, but then he just…� I look away but somehow, her eyes find mine and force me to hold her gaze. “It’s just that, well…�

“You need to stand up to him. Don’t let him run you down like that. Better yet, break it off with him. You can do so much better.� Tierra pulls me in for a hug. She’d have absolutely no problem standing up to Brett. Most guys I know are scared of her for her sharp tongue and badass reputation. My eyes get watery.

“Aw, Char, don’t cry. We’re gonna get you through this, and we’ll make Brett wish he’d never laid a finger on you.�

“Thanks, Tierra,� I sniff, wiping my eyes.

Just then, the bell rings. Tierra and I split, each taking opposite routes to our classes. As usual, I slide into my seat just as the bell rings.

“Happy Tuesday, class,� Mr. Richards, my psychology teacher, says brightly. I slump down in my chair, preparing for an hour of Richards’ “flowery� speech, and eternal lectures.

I rest my chin in my hand and sigh deeply. Next thing I know, Mr. Richards is tapping my shoulder.

“Miss Carpenter, Miss Carpenter? I believe you dozed off for a moment. Would you please join the rest of the class once more?� I sit up again and nod. “Excellent,� he continues, “We’re presenting our ‘self’ posters. Would you please take the stage?� He waves his hand, gesturing to the front of the classroom.

“Uh, sure,� I get up and cautiously make my way to the front, ignoring the whispers.

“Ok, this is my poster,� I begin, “The drops of water represent tears, and, uh, the flowers represent my dad.�

“Flowers? For a guy? What, is he gay?� Shanda smiles cruelly, obviously pleased with her remark.

“H-he’s dead,� I stammer, my eyes filling up with tears, again.

“Oh, well that’s too bad,� she sneers, and turns to daintily high five her friends. Without warning, the tears let loose, and I run from the classroom. Stopping at a drinking fountain, I struggle to catch my breath. As I lean over to take a sip, a person comes up to stand behind me.

“Hey, baby, what’s wrong?� I turn around to come face to face with Brett. He puts an arm around my waist, pulling me into him. His touch brings back another flood of emotions. I push away from him and bolt.

Once in the safety of the bathroom, I lean against a stall and sink to the floor. Deep breaths, deep breaths. Finally, my breathing becomes regular, but there’s more to it than that. I need to see the blood, to feel the pain seeping out through a slender cut in my flesh.

After searching, I finally find a broken piece of metal on the bottom of a stall, I break it off, and it leaves a nice, jagged end. Without taking any precautions, I dig the edge into my skin, and let it slice my thigh. Deep, crimson blood gurgles out at a frightening rate. Dropping the blade, I stare, surprised, at the river of blood flowing down my leg. I’ve cut too deep. I’m going to die; I’m going to bleed to death.

Now the blood is gushing out of the wound. Around me, the walls blur, and my head spins. Slowly, I lose consciousness, until my world is completely black.

ugh omg u rnt just gonna leave it there are ya??? more more more!!! PLZ!! its so good... she seems so sad, and wow i feelso sorry for her having to go thru that. But agh plz post more soon... cant wait to know what happens.

luv,
Heidi :kiss2:

Chapter 4

I wake up to the sound of murmuring in the distance. My head is spinning, and my eyelids feel like lead. Slowly, I raise them. The walls are white…everything is white. Am I dead? No. When the nauseating smell of medicine and sick people fills my nostrils, it’s obvious that I am in a hospital.

A thickset, kind faced black woman sashays over to the side of my bed, humming some gospel tune. “Finally awake, eh sweetie?� she remarks casually. “Mmm, mmm, 53 stitches. That musta been one big hole.� I sit quietly while she takes my blood pressure, and writes notes on a record sheet at the bottom of my bed. Still humming, she sways out of the room, but before leaving completely, pokes her head back in the door. “By the way, Hun, I’m your nurse, Fiona. If ya need anything, just press the call button.�

I nod, and continue to survey the room. There is an IV in my right forearm. On the right, is another bed. A young man occupies the other bed. He notices that I’m watching, and turns to face me. He has messy, dark brown hair, and huge sapphire eyes.

“Hi, I’m Elijah,� he says with a smile.

“Charmin,� I say looking down.

He opens his mouth again and words fly out at about a thousand miles an hour. “Welcome to South Pines Rehabilitation Center for the Mentally and Emotionally Unstable,� he recites, rolling his eyes. “Basically, it’s a nut house, but they have a special place for the depressed drug addicts.�

He continues, “You cut yourself, right?� I feel my head bobbing up and down, nodding in response. “Yeah, that’s what I figured. They said somethin’ about scars. Apparently, you lost a ton a blood. They were afraid you’d lost too much, but I guess not, seein’ as I’m talkin’ to you now.�

I sit there, listening to him drone on and on and decide to take the time to inspect the damage inflicted upon my leg. Carefully, I pull the sheets back, so as not to snag them on the delicate gauze dressings, and so that I don't give Elijah the full on view of my thigh. The bandaging is thin; thin enough to see the protrusions of the tiny threads holding my flesh together. Around the stitches is a small amount of blood and drainage that has managed to seep through the layers of cloth.

Not satisfied, I begin to lift the gauze in an attempt to see underneath. Wincing as the material catches on the stitches; I raise it high enough, then pull it back ever so slightly. What I discover is not pretty, but in fact, gruesome.

My leg has become the work of a hasty and clumsy tailor. The sloppy, uneven stitches pull and bunch my skin in several different directions; making sickening purple bumps. It is obvious that this new scar shall become the ugliest and most prominent of them all.

Hey this is a cool story. Morbid, but cool. Hmmmm, Elijah is emotionally unstable...fascinating. Post more... :yum:

hey new fan here
well actually i started to read this awhile ago
hope you post more soon
sssssooooooo good

yeah!

dont forget us!

Oh my GOD, Kat! I'm speechless... :faint:

Your story is so beautiful and tragic. Your descriptions of the cutting are brilliant, very detailed. I feel myself feeling sad with her.

And the f*ing :ups: snotty bitches in class :anger: I hate those kinds of people!

I hope you are still working on this because it's really good. It's a great start and I hope to get to read more soon


:x kimi

Chapter 5

Eventually, Elijah stops talking, and although I can’t remember any of what he previously said, I feel a strange connection with him. Sort of like I’ve known him my whole life. I look over at him. He’s twisting the switch that controls the amount of fluid flowing through his IV. When he notices that someone is watching him, he stops and gives me a guilty grin. He is about to say something when Fiona comes bustling into the room carrying two trays of food.

“Get yer red hot taters!� she bellows. Chuckling to herself, she sets trays in front of both Elijah and me. “Eat up,� she says, “The healthier ya are, the quicker we can get you out of this damn place.� I peek over the tray and find a huge baked potato wrapped in tin foil, all the fixings on the side. Elijah takes one look at his tray and shoves it away.

“Yuck, hospital food. I’m not touchin’ any of it.� Briefly, I consider joining him in his protest, but my stomach growls, and I have to at least try it. Surprisingly, it’s not bad, and ten minutes later, the entire thing is gone. Elijah is looking at me with an expression of pure repulsion on his face.

“I can’t believe you ate that. Man, you’re in for a rough night!�

“Speaking of night,� Fiona says, entering the room again, “It’s almost ten. You’d better go to sleep before I get in trouble with the doctors.� She takes our trays and dims the lights on her way out. “’Night.�

I wiggle down further underneath the covers and close my eyes. To my right, I can hear Elijah shift positions every few minutes. Just as I am about to slip into slumber, his voice breaks the silence.

“I like the dark,� he says softly.

I turn to face him, and can just barely see the dim lights reflecting in his eyes. He does not wait for my reply.

“Because, when it’s dark, there are no imperfections,� he states simply.

There is silence again, and he says nothing more. I am left with his thought. I glance around the room, searching the dark. Shadows hang, motionless on the walls, holding the impenetrable mysteries of the obscurity. The gloom knows something I don’t, and I find no comfort in this. I can feel the darkness. It is a part of me. It fills my soul, and drifts through my mind. With these thoughts swirling around in my head, I slowly and uneasily drift off to the dream world.

nice you posted it here to!

hey still here
post more soon please
sorry sort of lost track...
i like to read so...therefore like to read alot
the problem about that however is that i don't have the best memory so...i...
sort of forget
:blush: sorry
will remember this!
i will remember this!
*leaves fic mumbling to self about remembering fic's name*

:lmao:

Awww Honey! You are a doll! You make me blush! I very much want to read yours, and it makes me very happy indeed if I inspired you to write. Because you need to...you've got a wonderful story developing here!

You can count on me to be one of your biggest fans!! :woot:

:x
kimi

just bumping this for ya! :bye:

Chapter 6

I am sitting in a dark room—so dark that the blackness presses against my eyeballs. In the distance, there is a faint light. Slowly, I begin to crawl toward it. My going is slow; it’s like moving through play doh. The light fades, grows and retreats, but remains illuminant, beckoning me to come closer.

My hand slaps the ground in front of me, sending a tidal wave of a sticky liquid substance. Sploosh. A drop of the same substance splatters onto my shoulder. I realize what the stuff is, and it continues to drip. It's raining blood.

Covered in the blood, Elijah appears in front of me. Gradually, he moves toward me, ignoring the downpour. His lips are moving, but no sound escapes them. In his hands, he holds a beautiful leather-bound book. From out of his pocket, he pulls my usually concealed blade. With an eerie look in his eyes, he raises the book and positions the edge of the blade against the leather. In one long, deliberate stroke, he slices the book's cover. Blood comes spurting out of the sharp, clean laceration.

Suddenly, I feel a terrible tearing, ripping sensation in the skin on my thighs and upper arms. I look down and no longer see purple scars, but long gashes in their place. My scars continue to split open, and blood streams out of the wounds.

Blood begins to puddle at my feet as I continue to bleed. It gets deeper and deeper, and within seconds is at my knees. Elijah stands rigid in front of me, making no effort to escape this overflow of blood. His once blue eyes are now black. Black tunnels, swirling down into his core.

Rapidly, the blood's depth grows as the depth swiftly approaches my height. Soon it pours over my head, filling my ears and nostrils. I struggle to swim back up to the surface, but I am fighting a losing battle. My air supply is low, and unthinkingly, I open my mouth. Blood rushes in between my lips causing me to gag. Gulping and choking, I gasp desperately for air...

Suddenly, I feel a terrible tearing, ripping sensation in the skin on my thighs and upper arms. I look down and no longer see purple scars, but long gashes in their place. My scars continue to split open, and blood streams out of the wounds.

Blood begins to puddle at my feet as I continue to bleed. It gets deeper and deeper, and within seconds is at my knees. Elijah stands rigid in front of me, making no effort to escape this overflow of blood. His once blue eyes are now black. Black tunnels, swirling down into his core.

Rapidly, the blood's depth grows as the depth swiftly approaches my height. Soon it pours over my head, filling my ears and nostrils. I struggle to swim back up to the surface, but I am fighting a losing battle. My air supply is low, and unthinkingly, I open my mouth. Blood rushes in between my lips causing me to gag. Gulping and choking, I gasp desperately for air...

amazing chappy Kat
keep up the good work :thumbsup:

:yes: this is me agreeing-...

wheee... more chappyness!!! hurrah!!!!


:) wow. i love this story. :) keep posting¨... please!!!

lol...see? you have fans!

Wow that was freaky, but in a cool way. Amazing writing, i love the descriptions.

:Sapphire: for you...

Chapter 7

I awaken with a jolt. Hurriedly, I sit up and flip the side table light on. Ripping the covers away from my legs, and pulling up my sleeves, I frantically examine my body, making sure the scars have stayed shut. My rapid movement wakes Elijah.

“Whoa,� he whispers groggily, “Charmin, are you okay? What happened?�

Drawing my knees up to my chest, I wrap my arms around them, and attempt to regain stability.

“Bad dream?�

My throat is tight, but I manage to choke out, “Yes.�

“Care to tell me about it?�

A twinge of pain shoots through the cut on my leg, as I squeeze my arms tighter around me. I shake my head no, still struggling to recall what earlier had been so vivid. After a few moments of deep breathing, I finally regain composure and relax against the headboard.

“So, you’re okay now?� Even though I know it’ll be impossible to fall asleep again, I nod. “Good.� He lies back down and looks at me fixedly. God, his eyes are so soulful, it’s impossible to tell exactly what he’s looking at. For a strange moment, I am mesmerized by those brilliant blue eyes whose intent is undetermined. Then, he blinks and slightly lowers his gaze.

“Well, G’night, Charmin,� he says before rolling over.

I lie down and stare at the ceiling, not wanting to close my eyes again, but soon enough, sleep overpowers me, and my eyelids slide shut, allowing me to fall into a deep and dreamless sleep.

- - - - -

The next morning, sun streams through the window, making the gleaming white of the hospital walls even whiter, and illuminating the room with a peaceful, serene light. Elijah has completely buried himself in his sheets, and all I can see are spikes of dark brown hair sticking out from under the top of the covers. According to the clock, it’s nine fifteen.

Fiona bursts through the door, singing, “Rise ‘n shine!�

“Oh, Charmin, child,� she says, “Somebody is here to see you, want me to let ‘em in?� I nod and shrug, and she walks to the door, and tells someone on the other side to come in.

A man in an official black suit enters the room, following him are my parents.

“Charmin,� he says kindly, “It has recently come to our attention that you have a problem. Now, I would like to help you sort this out with a little bit of therapy. Both your parents have agreed that this is a necessary step to improving your mental and physical health. We would like your approval to go through with this, so, I am giving you and your parents a few moments alone to discuss this and come up with a decision.�

The man leads us down a long hallway. The lights are so intense that instead of looking straight ahead, I have to squint and look at the ground. We are ushered into a small room with three chairs in a triangle, waiting for us.

“I’ll give you three a few moments alone,� the man states before leaving the room.

My mother speaks first in a falsely sweet voice, “Charmin, we love you, and we want the best for you. We want you to be happy. We want to help you through this.� I fold my arms and look away.

Ever since she got married, she might as well have forgotten about me. It was always Jerry, Jerry, Jerry. Help me? No, you’re just looking for a way to get rid of me.

“Please, honey, I know what you’re going through.� She tries again, and places her hand on my shoulder. I jerk myself away and narrow my eyes at her in a look of irritation.

“Well, it’s your call,� Jerry joins in, “We really only want what’s best.� He smiles falsely. I continue to stare at them coldly.

My mom groans and rolls her eyes. “Charmin,� she hisses, “We don’t have all day. Now, are you going to cooperate or not?� Another icy glare. “Fine, if you won’t decide, then we’ll decide for you. You are going to stay here and receive therapy until Dr. Reichman deems you ‘cured.’ Is that clear?� She stands up, grabs Jerry by the arm, and storms out of the room. A few seconds later, the man in the suit returns.

“Your mother told me of your decision. I think it a wise one. In addition to this, you are well enough to be released from the hospital ward, so you may go gather your things. A counselor will be there waiting to show you to your dormitory.� He turns to leave. “Oh, and by the way, I’m Doctor Reichman. He rotates back and extends his hand towards me with a smile. I stare at him blankly, and then walk past his outstretched arm and down the overly lighted hallway.

When I return to the room, I find Fiona changing the sheets on both beds. Elijah and his belongings are gone. Fiona seems to read my mind.

“Elijah has been released too. He’s been sent back to his dorm.� I nod and locate the suitcase my mom had packed for me. Then, a young woman walks in the room.

“Hi,� she says, rushing in to hug me. “I’m Melissa, your counselor. Are you Charmin?� I manage to squirm out of her embrace. Her face falls, and she looks over at Fiona, bewildered.

“Melissa, baby, you’re best off just showin’ her to her room.�

“Oh, okay.� She sounds depressed. Why should I care? She’s probably had it easy her whole life. Turning, she steps out the door, beckoning me to follow.

“This is your room,� she says, stopping in front of a white (like everything else) door. “You’ll be staying with two other girls.� She swings the door open. “They aren’t here right now, but their names are Carly and Michelle. This is your bed.� She gestures towards the bed in the corner. “Lunch is at twelve thirty. The cafeteria is down the hall, to the left, and the third door on the right. There you’ll learn more about your schedule and what goes on here.� With that, she leaves, letting the door slam behind her.

After she's gone, I walk over to my designated bed and plop down on it, dropping my suitcase on the floor. The clock on the wall tells me that it’s still only ten fifteen. I have nothing to do but sit and wait.

Heeeeey Kat! Sorry I've gotten behind, but I've been reading furiously and caught up!!! :tsk:

:cry: Oh God...so sad...how many damn days have I had where I feel just like this...*sigh* This is beautiful writing...

.

i LOVE this!!! He's making decisions for himself about her based upon her silence....hmmm..... <_<

Wonderful as always, Kat....hurry for more

:x
Kimi

Great!! I missed a lot of this!! More soon?!

^_^ yey a new chapter!

Thanks so much guys. Getting new replies always brightens my day, and today wasn't the best day. I feel all warm and fuzzy inside, lol. Just, thanks!

Whee! THis sounds great so far and I can tell you're just starting. I'd love to see more! =)

Sheeze...bad days seem to be going around, Kat! I've heard the same thing from several people...

Damn bad days....grrrr....slash em, banish em! :pirate:

Ok. Sorry. Just ranting!!!!

Anytime you need a bit of cheer, I'm around and happy to oblige!

*hugs*

:love: kimi

Shit! You knwo what I just realized? I posted the wrong chapter...oh shoot me now! Grr...pretend that didn't happen....

edit: fixed it, so you might wanna go read the REAL chapter 7...sorry about that

i read it again...nice chapter!


but no more lij???? :cry:

Chapter 8

My room is lonely. I watch the clock and count the seconds. Seconds turn into minutes. The minutes pile up and I’ve counted 136, when I hear voices outside my door. I straighten up and look expectantly at the door. The voices fade away, false alarm, the people have passed.

My room has a window. It’s been so long since I’ve looked outside. I get up and peer through the glass. It’s a gorgeous day, but its beauty only makes me more annoyed. They’re mocking me. The cool green grass, the warm yellow sun, and the clear blue sky, they’re all laughing at me, reminding me of the darkness inside and the warm sun that I’ll never have. My life is like that window. Everything that I want is on the other side while I’m stuck, separated from it in this tiny godforsaken room. The only way to get through is to break the window, shattering the glass, and my life. Unless, somehow, I can find a way to slide it open.

The sound of a squeaking doorknob rises behind me and the door creaks open. Two girls walk in. I notice that they are both stick thin. Their arms and legs look ready to snap at any moment. I sense an eating disorder.

The taller of the two steps forward. “So, you’re the new girl,� she scoffs tucking her unruly brunette locks behind her ear, and throwing herself onto her bed.

“C’mon, Carly, don’t be rude,� the other says, offering her hand. “Hi, I’m Michelle.� When I don’t shake her hand, she coughs uncomfortably and lowers it back to her side. “You’re Charmin, right?� Michelle asks. Carly snickers from her position on the bed. I raise my eyebrows at her. She sees my look and the smile quickly from her gaunt face.

Sensing the tension, Michelle takes charge. “Well, it’s about lunchtime. Wanna come eat with us?� Behind her, Carly rolls her eyes. Although I would rather do anything but eat with these girls (if they really even eat at all), I realize that I have nothing better to do, and I would much rather be shown the way to the cafeteria than have to find it myself. I shrug.

They both get up and leave. With one last look out the window, I too leave the room. Neither of them says a word to me as I follow them down the hall but continue with the conversation that I assume they were having earlier. Every now and then one of them bursts out with a cackling laughter that I can’t help but be annoyed by.

I look up at the ceiling. Those too-bright lights are here too. Squinting, I continue to stare up at them, wondering if the true intent of this place is to blind me.

At the end of the hall, we turn left. The lighting is dimmer here, but the atmosphere is even less inviting than before.

This place smells like disinfectant. It’s too clean. I feel that if I touch anything, somebody will run up behind me with a can of Lysol and spray the hell out of everything.

Another right turn and we’re in the cafeteria. It reminds me of school, except quieter, and the fact that almost everybody is being monitored in some way. Confused people are being ushered to tables while others are being coaxed into eating.

I follow the girls to a table on the far side of the room. Elijah and six other people are already sitting there.

“This is our therapy group,� Michelle explains, “We meet with them every day.� I survey the table; all its residents are staring at me. The only one not staring is Elijah. In fact, he looks somewhat happy to see me. Again, Michelle sensing the tension introduces. “Guys, this is Charmin.�

“Charmin? Like the toilet paper?� one of them snorts. The rest of the table bursts into fits of giggles. I tighten my jaw and look at my feet.

“Charmin,� Elijah says from his end of the table, “you can come eat with me.� Giving the group one last grimace, I turn and walk to the other end of the table where Elijah is sitting alone. “You really shouldn’t let ‘em get to you,� he says knowingly between bites, “They do it to everybody. They’ll warm up to ya eventually. Either that or ignore you completely. Either way, gets ‘em off your back, ya know?�

I nod and look back towards the other, still upset about the toilet paper reference.

“I’m really glad you’re in my group,� he says genuinely, looking into my eyes. Like before, I become lost in his azure eyes. A small smile comes to my lips as I continue to swim in the mystic sapphire pools. Then, something flashes in his eyes. Something I can tell has been hidden for a long time, a kind of hurt and pain. Suddenly he breaks eye contact and appears uncomfortable. My smile vanishes, and I too look away. He opens his mouth to speak again, but before he can, Dr. Reichman walks over and informs me that we need to have a “little chat.�

Elijah looks disappointed as I leave and follow the doctor. I try to make eye contact with him to assure him somehow that I’ll be right back, but he ducks his head, and resumes eating.

Reichman leads me to a small circular table in the corner of the cafeteria. He motions for me to sit, and I obey. He begins to tell me about the procedures and rules of therapy.

“Each day, you will attend a group therapy session. They are held at 9:30 a.m. They are one to two hours long. At these sessions, you and your therapy group will discuss your feelings with others and your group’s supervisor, Dr. Jacobs. She will explain this in better detail later.

“Meals are at 8:30, 12:30, and 6:00. Twice a week, you will visit with me for an hour to an hour and a half. Also once a week, you and your group will be bussed to the local supermarket and you will be allowed to purchase anything you want, within reason. Every other week, you will invite a friend or family member to therapy sessions where you will discuss yours and their feeling with Dr. Jacobs.

“When you are not in a therapy session, you are free to mix and mingle with your fellow patients, in your dorm or throughout the institutions and its outdoor boundaries.

“Melissa is your dorm counselor. She will be there for you to talk to whenever you feel that you need to talk. The idea here is to try to keep your mind on finding a solution, rather than hurting yourself. This will help you succeed on your road to recovery. We have no way to tell you exactly how long you will be here, but we do know that the more willing you are to cooperate, the faster you will recover.�

He continues to blab, and I turn my attention to the warm sunny day on the other side of the window. My mind begins to churn and I wonder if Elijah is that something that I need to help me open my window and reach the sun. I sneak a look back at Elijah. He’s still sitting by himself. Maybe we’re supposed to help each other. Maybe I’m that something that Elijah needs to help him open his own window.

I like that part.

Great chappies, this story is coming along!

This is great.

I love it, it's brilliant.

I can't wait to read some more.