A Sad Day for Happiness

A Sad Day for Happiness

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My eyes fluttered open. Where am I? Who am I? The curtain around my bed is pulled back a little by someone I don't recognize. He smiles. "Have you remembered yet?"

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Introduction

...how much is a four-leaf clover...

:a . SAD . d a y . f o r . HAPPINESS:

...riding on my roller-coaster....

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"Life is more than what your eyes can see."

I'll see you on the other side, in the apple of my eye
Let us paint a scenery in a colour we can see
Switch the news off, go to sleep
Fight the tears in misery
I've exchanged my childhood dreams for a bunch of make-believe
Touch the button
You should sit and listen
Watching as a tear rains into a broken heart
It's a sad day for happiness
In this lazy world
It's a crazy world, so all we can do is be
A little crazy
To save today

[Sad Day (For Happiness) - Cinema Bizarre]

The smell of sterilization and sanitation wafted into my room from the empty hallway, and my eyes fluttered open. Where am I? Who am I? My name is Ryan Nevaeh-Raen De Luca... isn't it? But I go by Nevaeh. I remember the accident. No, not an accident. I jumped on purpose. I remember Navie. Navie Avienne Heising. My boyfriend. My younger brother? But.... No. Adopted. I am adopted, so it's okay. Isn't it? And... I am... in the hospital. I am recovering. But this is the Psychiatric Unit. Am I really okay? Depressed, they said. Chronically depressed. But why? Now I remember Mom and Dad, slaughtered like animals... and the men who raped the three of us. The removal of still-beating hearts. An electric whirring sound. A thick, black liquid being forced down my throat. Or was it black? Everything I can't remember is black. I blink hard, trying to remember, but as I do, the things I do remember come back stronger, and I keel over, heaving what's left of last night's dinner onto the.... There's already a bucket at my bedside. Is this normal for me? The curtain around my bed is pulled back a little, and I look up a boy younger than me. Pretty.
"Have you remembered yet?"
They're not allowed to talk to me until it comes back, or I risk permanent psycological damage. I narrow my eyes, and I try. His name comes when it's called by the boy who sleeps in the bed next to me. I smile. I remember his name, too. We are friends, aren't we? And this isn't just a hospital. It's a special Psychiatric Hospital for people who will never get better. And I will live here forever.

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:r u l e s:

  • No power-playing or god-modelling.
  • No playing other peoples' characters without their permission.
  • Please post in novel-style format. And seriously, at least pretend to be semi-literate.
  • Love is Allowed.
  • All characters must be fifteen to nineteen years of age.
  • If you're just going to sign up and then never come back, don't bother signing up — it's a waste of both of our time.
  • Anime pictures only, please.
  • If you have any questions or comments, feel free to ask me. Additional information will be in the OOC Board whenever I decide to update it. Just kidding, I'll do it soon. And then I'll update these when I do.
  • Have fun!
  • Rule of Cool: If it's awesome and it moves the story forward, go for it; as long as it's not utter power-playing bullcrap.

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:r o l e s:

Room One Eleven
  • Karina Francoise Metronome by LozerFanAnah

Room One Twelve
  • Silus Mateo Fisher by Yonibibuns
  • Ryan Nevaeh-Raen DeLuca by Magical Neko
  • Jesse Christian Santiagoby SuckOnMyJuiceBox
  • Patrick Sykes by UpFallen

Room One Thirteen
  • Emily Lynn Gianluca by Akantha
  • Second Bed
  • Third Bed
  • Fourth Bed

Room One Fourteen
  • Savannah Avianne Reynolds by MagicalNeko
  • Lyle Dumont by Yonbibuns

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:f o r m:

[Appearance]
[First Name]
[Last Name]
[Nickname]
[Age]
[Gender]
[Room and Bed Number]
[Sexual Orientation]
[Psycological Disorder]
[Personality]
[Likes]
[Dislikes]
[Favourite Colour]
[Theme Song(s)]
[Hobbies/Talents]
[Bio]

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:n e v a e h:

Like most other mornings, I took a deep breath in and examined the scent that I took in. Clean. So immaculately clean that it couldn't possibly be healthy, if that made any sense at all. But it did. It was the reason why people who compulsively sanitized their hands after touching things got sick so often. They were killing the good bacteria along with the bad ones, and it lowered their immune systems. A certain amount of sanitary measures were necessary, but after going too far they were just killing themselves. Besides, if I looked at it from Savannah Reynolds' point of view, this was a home, not a hospital. I supposed that made sense. More sense than alot of things.... Was he actually saner than most of the people here, or was I just getting worse?

I took a moment to register my surrounds without opening my eyes. My head felt lighter today, as if some great burden had been lifted from it, though I couldn't think of what exactly that might be. I searched through my mind, floated on a current of thought as it carried me through my sub-concious. I tried to pick up memories that I had long forgotten, but all I saw was blackness. That was right. Amnesia. I really had forgotten, hadn't I? It comforted me to think I had remembered this much, and I opened my eyes. Of course, peering around my curtain were two big green eyes, completed with a grin that could rival the Cheshire Cat's. He hadn't said anything yet. I didn't recognize him. For a long while we stared at eachother, his grin fell, and I cocked my head to the side. "Savannah." This was routine, wasn't it? I awoke to him every morning whether I used the bucket at my bedside or not. Sometimes I wondered if there weren't some ulterior motive to him showing up every morning like this. Was it to create a routine and help me remember that he was there, a permanent feature? Or was it just because he was Savannah and creeping me out in the morning held the highest appeal to him?

...The latter.

Had to be. Savannah probably did what he was doing unintentionally, and was most likely trying to annoy me first thing in the morning. God knew he was up before most of the nurses in the morning, and he stayed up later than them as well. He was just something out.

Bright emeralds stepped in to throw open my curtains and I winced at the brightness. "Savannah, close the damned curtains. I'm not ready to get up yet." To prove my point, I rolled over into my pillow stack and hid my face. He wasn't taking 'No' for an answer, though. He never did. "How are you so awake at this hour?"

"C'mon, Ryan! Up you go! It's a beautiful summer day, not a cloud in the sky! Well, maybe one or two; but still! It's gonna be a bright, bright, sun-shiny day!"

"Fine! Just get lost, would you?" I threw a pillow at him and he dodged it cunningly, letting it bounce off the window and onto the floor, tipping my African Violet in the process. Morning routine. I glared at him as he disappeared behind the curtain, his steps could be heard retreating out into the hall before vanishing completely. Finally, I rose and scooped my violet off the floor tenderly, careful not to touch its leaves. They were very sensitive plants, and needed the utmost care to survive. This one was on its last breath, and I felt a tinge of sadness for it. Where had I gotten it? Had someone important given it to me? I didn't remember. And it hurt.

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:s a v a n n a h:

Early to bed, early to rise. That was the saying, wasn't it? Well, I shattered it. Running on three hours sleep, I could stay up from the time I awoke at five in the morning to well past midnight easily. It was some sort of system I had lived on since I was young. No, I didn't have any strange sleep disorder. Don't be rediculous. It was just that my mother had always made my brother and I get up early to get ready for school, and kept us up working late hours. It was how it had always been. Naturally, even out of her care I still adhered to that schedule. Sixteen years I had lived like that, and some stupid mental institution wouldn't change it in the least.

So, like many mornings before, I rose at five to take my shower, dressed simply in the same change of clothes that I'd wash tonight before I went to sleep, no matter who I had to share the washing machine with. It was a little entertaining when my friends would stare at me funny because I had been wearing the same outfit for a little while; but once again it was habit. At least I wasn't wearing them until they wore out or I out-grew them. Not anymore. Either way, this week's outfit was a black and white sailor-style top complete with yellow accents and ribbon, and a pair of black shorts. Call me crazy — it was the middle of summer — but that was why I was here, right? Tip-toing around my roomie's bed, I towel dried my hair and pulled it into a small ponytail at the back of my head, bobby-pinning all the loose pieces back until I had convinced myself I looked great. Like a shouta in one of those anime. Cute. Or moe, I guess, if you're into that kind of thing.

Next on the agenda was to seek out Room 112. Not too difficult. I had passed it on the way to the shower and on the way back. One of my closest friends slept there, Ryan DeLuca. He suffered from amnesia; though technically I could hardly call it suffering. Whatever he remembered every other morning that caused him to throw up so violently is something better left forgotten. I peeked around his curtain to watch him sleep. He was pretty, and he appeared so calm, undisturbed.... And then he stirred. I stared. His eyes opened, met mine. Locked.

"Savannah." He remembered me. I couldn't help but feel an intense joy at this. But he still looked so upset. I gave a brief frown that went unnoticed by him and stepped in to throw open his curtains. It was already bright and beautiful out, and I wanted him to feel as elated as I did. I found it difficult to dissect people, and him especially. How could anyone look so sad on such a perfect day? "Savannah, close the damned curtains. I'm not ready to get up yet. How are you so awake at this hour?"

"C'mon, Ryan! Up you go! It's a beautiful summer day, not a cloud in the sky! Well, maybe one or two; but still! It's gonna be a bright, bright, sun-shiny day!" I threw an arm up to motion to the sky, but had to duck before I completed the action. One of the bigger pillows on his bed came hurdling through the air at me and hit the window, knocking over one of Ryan's dumb little plants as I skipped away. Where to next? Who to harass? I stopped near the door to listen and watch his silhoutted body against the curtains as he dressed and silently smiled. He must be feeling okay today. He hadn't gone back to bed.

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Today, I was awake. Or tonight. I can’t really tell because of the too thick of a blanket I had smothering me. I mean, I could‘ve been sleeping under these sheets. I could’ve been reading a book with a flashlight, or planning my massacre to destroy every last thing with a pulse in this place. I could’ve teleported to a whole different universe and ate kabobs with my alien friends Paco and Jill. Then ransacked the White House pantry. Or I could’ve just been sleeping. The point is;

You’ll never know.

I liked that. How you don’t me, and I know you. Well, I don’t know you, or anyone in this place, but I know me--someone you don’t know. So I’m feeling pretty good right now. As good as good got in this place, you know. Too bad you don’t. Hah! See what I did there? Really, you don’t know anything. Sure, you know my name is Jesse. I’ll give you that. But do you know my birthday? Do you know how I ended up in this place too? I bet you do. Everyone thinks they know everything and everyone and they can read between the lines because they just can. They want to be everything to everyone, until reality comes banging on there door. Then you end up in a room with a white bed and white walls.

Peeking over the sheets and navy blanket, I was delighted to see curtains covering every inch of whatever was behind them. Which included Silus, Ryan, Patrick, and maybe some really unappealing pictures frames. Don’t get me wrong, though. Ryan, Patrick and Silus were some really cool guys. Despite all the disorders and utterly terrifying pasts; they were cool. People here are much nicer than the people you would meet at school. Maybe its because we’re all on the same train here. Or because we can all relate somehow, or have some kind of connection. Or maybe because we really just don’t give a shit. Another thing you'll probably never know.

Clutching my pillow to my chest, I slipped one foot out from under the covers and onto the cold floor. Almost immediately I lifted my feet back up, reminding myself as I did so to wear socks when I go to bed next time. It’s always cold in the mornings, and very loud thanks to the joyful, and any and all other positive adjectives you can think of, Savannah. The kid was like an over happy energizer bunny, and as I shuffled over to the curtain, peeked my head through just as the Savannah opened the blinds, I wondered what it would feel like to have my hands around his throat.

“You guys are such loud individuals..” I murmured, rubbing my eye.

Shuffling over to Ryan’s curtain, I frowned, seeing he was still getting dressed. Instead of pushing the curtain aside, I turned around and lowered myself to the floor, and sat cross legged. I hugged the pillow to my chest as I waited for Ryan. I didn’t even know why I was waiting. On the floor, for that matter. But my muscles seemed to agree with my decision as they turned into mush and my eye lids drooped. I propped my chin up on the pillow, exhaled, and mumbled something about Silus being a buttwipe for hibernating, and Patrick being one too because he was sleeping while I wasn’t.

Buttwipes.

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I always woke up easy and not for the same reasons everyone who woke up early seemed to. I didn't wake up early because it was built into my body, didn't wake up early because someone woke me, didn't wake up early cause of my alarm. None of the reasons anyone could possibly think of for bothering to wake up much earlier than they were supposed to. I woke up early because of the fear and dread that I would wake up completely and utterly alone - like always. And of course I did wake up in a rather normal sized rooom by myself; alone. With absolutely no one around because I was a menace to both myself and anyone around me. I was alone because it was 'easier to watch me' than if I was in a room with other people who had problems. Easier to make sure I was taking care of myself. Easier to make sure I wasn't trying to kill myself. But they didn't understand that putting my alone in a room with no one around was just making it harder for me to want to stay alive and keep healthy. It made me want to end it faster because I was afraid of being alone, afraid of being unloved. Only alone people weren't loved - only unloved people were alone.

I stayed there in my bed with my eyes on the ceiling because I didn't want to look around my personless room and know that I was the only one it in and would always be the only one in it. I always took pills to fall asleep when it was time for bed because I couldn't handle being in a dark room alone with no one there to be with and no one there to run to when I thought Sabrina was coming. Coming at me with that knife that caused red to bleed onto skin - staining then fading. It was so disgusting and ugly all in itself, for itself. What she did left scars on skin she could hide from her parents and on me the scars had faded but were still there; just light.

Of course they would never know that because I would never tell them when they asked. What happened to you? I was abused; what else if there to know? Was it physical as well as mental? Wouldn't there be marks on my body? We can see the light scars. I get hurt a lot. I'm a clumsy person. Do you self-harm yourself? How can I with you taking away everything I can do it with? Did you? Depends on what that means.

Answers always written because I can't speak. Not won't. Can't.

Stupid constant questions because for all they knew I was some insane mental case who only thought about myself every second of the day like some sort of pain lover. I don't enjoy being in pain. I didn't enjoy ever being in pain. That's why I can't keep being alone like this. It'll drive me to extreme things I really don't want to do. Just... if they would let me stay in a room with other people who I can be around and know that they'll be around if i need it. I know how those people with room mates are close to them - they defend each other. Yet here I am all alone in a room with no one to take comfort in because they want to 'watch' me and make sure I don't kill myself.

Give me a friend and I'll be fine.

Give me love and I'll be great.

Damn I seriously feel like I'm going to throw up because all of this alone crap is making me dizzy. I know I can leave but I'm afraid of there being no one on the other side of the door and the hallway is huge. Open spaces plus no people equals suicidal me. It's fucked up and odd I know but who are you to judge me. You try living you're whole life alone in lrge spaces and unloved by anyone. You'd become afraid of it too. You'd crave it too.

Besides; it's not like I'll be alone too long. Right?

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#, as written by Akantha
She was sleeping for once her breathing steady. She could hear my mother singing softly in my ear, a crooning sound that reminded her of the gentle nature that was her mother completely, rather than herself. Suddenly everything faded into darkness. There was a subtle shift in the dream and there was that familiar tension in her muscles. Her eyes opened to the living room.

Orange flames were surrounding her on all sides and her mother was trying open the window, smashing it to pieces. The process of events were always the same. She had to tell her mother the words that she was meant to say. "No! Mother! Stop! Don't do this!" She could feel hot stinging tears rolls down her own sooty cheeks. She watched as her mother turned seeming to have heard her desperate cries. "I can't Emily. Didn't I say that If I were with you I would give you a luxury?" She blinked slowly confusion setting in.

It was different this time. Her mother never said that. She always said something along the lines of getting Luca to live on. She watched her mother approach like always but this time it was gentle. She grabbed Emily's hand pulling her to stand. She could feel herself moving in the real world across the floor of her room silently. Her mother smiled in that gleeful way and she couldn't help but smile back. "Mother. I need to say something." Her mother tilted her head as she struggled with herself to find those words. "I'm really.." Right as the word was about to come out of her mouth the beautiful lady she called mother dissapeared in a plume of smoke and ash. She looked down at her hands which were black as the residual ash slipped out of her grasp. "No. This is a lie!" She fell to her knees throwing the ash into the flames. "I won't believe this." She felt the flames close in on her body beginning to give her the same fate as her mother. She let out a sharp scream pain rippling up her skin, then it was over.

Emily awoke for real. She gave a quick glance about the room her fear fading away as her mind began to acquaint itself with reality. She looked down at her fists which had clenched the blue blankets tightly. Finger by finger she relaxed her hands not wanting to hurt anything. She stood having been moved to the floor by her dreams. She wandered back over to her bed to rearrange the blankets in the proper way then walked over to the window. She could feel the warm sunshine on her cold cheeks and reached up to lay her forehead on the glass frame. "This is going to be a long day."

Letting out a long sigh she turned back feeling the need for a shower, but stopped short near her bed spotting the white paper of a letter. She snatched it up and slit the side. She already knew what she would find. She written a letter to her father wishing him well, and asking him for a favor. It was a favor to get her newest song typed in pretty script and for him to edit any spelling mistakes. She pulled the paper out and smiled reading the song over.

Some days I close my eyes
And I am flying over and above the
World with outstretched fingers
As I feel the light wind on my face,
Then I open my eyes and I'm in the same
Spot; running so fast while staying so still.

Some days I wake up and the
World sags onto me, time crawls
And smothers me until I have no
Breath, the days stretch so endlessly
And it is like an endless panic in slow
Motion; the world watches me crumble.

Some days I am numb and cold,
Stifling everything, I have partially
Lost something, the world takes on a
Greyish tint, the sound is thick, faces blurred,
Voices underwater; I can see the light-
speckled surface above but I am sinking fast.

It is dark now, and it will be light outside
Again when I wake up and the wonderful
Words will flow of my triumph, everything
Will stop spinning, smiles will mean something,
The blackened days long behind me; all just
A sweet dream now, for I am still waiting for the sunrise.


She could hear her own song in her head as she read then flipped the paper over reading the tiny scribble on the back. She gave the paper a smile but continued on.

It's a gift and a curse. You get the pain much worse than anybody else. At the same time you see a sunrise much more beautiful than anyone else. Sincerely, your father.

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Silus


Seriously. I couldn't count the days on my fingers that I laid awake with itchy blankets scratching at my skin, making me want to toss them across the room because it wasn't the reason why I was so frustrated. Frustrated was always a wonderful word in my vocabulary—it summarized my whole personality and existence, really. I could tell you all my secrets, give them away like candy, but it wouldn't explain how they made me feel. The disease I was inflicted with was the most frustrating, constraining, humiliating thing that could only be described as someones' hands on your genitals, teasing you ceaselessly until said assailant giggled and protested, “No, not tonight.” The only difference was that this was a constant occurrence that had me squirming against my cold sheets, with my eyes glued onto the individual beds that belonged to them. Sometimes, I felt like crawling into their beds just to see what they'd do. No doubt, they would scream against me and I'd like it. Was that sick or what?

“C'mon, Ryan! Up you go! It's a beautiful summer day, not a cloud in the sky! Well, maybe one or two; but still! It's gonna be a bright, bright, sun-shiny day!” Energized and sickeningly adorable, the small boy that I subtly pined for always entered the room to wake up my roomie, Nevaeh. It was no secret that I pined after everyone, demanded my requests loudly and took any chance I could to grope them. It'd often landed me in trouble with the nurses, who'd found it especially effective to quarantine me until my bouts of lust subsided. Why couldn't they understand that it would never just disappear? I wanted to possess them—any of them, nurses, doctors, I fancied them all, and to have them wriggle against my body until I was spent and they were spent, it seemed like distant dreams. Wet dreams. Best of both worlds, I always thought. I never really stopped to think whether or not they'd actually enjoy it, because damn, I would. Gripping the white sheets between my numb fingers, I moaned against my pillow and peered over it until my steely gaze landed on the blond. “So much... wasted energy,” I whispered against the back of my hand, grating my teeth over my knuckles until I decided to hop out of bed. Landing softly on bare feet, I made it a point to slip on my comfortable slippers because the floor felt deathly cold.

A rather large pillow whizzed by my head and knocked over Nevaeh's beloved African Violet. I'd only barely dodge it, stumbled forward to catch my balance as I stared ruefully in Savannah's direction. Then my keen eyes travelled down to his rather fine bottom as he swiftly plodded away down the hallway, I licked my lips and pressed my palm to my throbbing temples. Abstinence, I decided, caused me to suffer horrible migraines that stemmed from the back of my cranium to just behind my eyes—the pressure made me want to press my knuckles against my baby blues, until it stopped. Debating on whether or not to rub my eyes from their sockets, I looked towards Jesse, whom seemed to be sitting like an Indian on the floor, pillow tucked tightly into his arms. My hand seemingly twisted, fingers picking at the fabric of my boxers before I busied them in my soft, brown hair. You see, Jesse had unbelievably delicious ebony hair—and it was soft to the touch, like a kittens. It made me want to stalk over there and cradle his head in my lap, preferably with a few soft kisses. I wasn't a rapist monster like everyone assumed I was. I was a gentle lover, or at least, that's what I tried to pass myself off as.

“Good to see you guys' are all so cheery.” I whistled innocently, stretched my arms behind my head and scratched absently at my bare chest. I always surprised myself when I looked at down at my shoulders and arms—tattoos, stretched across peachy-keen skin. Why I'd gotten so many? I didn't know. Copious amounts of alcohol and ecstasy may have done it. Anyway, I'd never know. I traced my fingers across the tigers snarling face, dragged it down its' gracious body and curled tail. If I could compare Jesse to either animal or mythical creature on my skin, it would have been the ferocious dragon on my right arm. I scratched the small amount of stubble growing on my chin before advancing towards Nevaeh, pushing past the velvet curtains and standing in front of him. With a devil-may-care grin settling on my face, I traced my fingers across his defined shoulder blades and hopped away. How I would love to—... enough of that. If I let myself sink too far into my thoughts, I'd be quarantined. I touched my wanton lips and leaned against Jesse' bunk bed, resisting the urge to run my fingers through his hair. Nevaeh stooped to pick up his dear plant, as carefully as he could manage, and I allowed myself the divine right to look him over.

“Think Twinkle-toes is awake?” By Twinkle-toes, I meant that beautiful creature placed into a room all to himself. A shame, really.

Lyle


Don't do that again, man. Don't do it again! I can't remember a night where I didn't have the same damned dream. The ugly mug with pig-eyes glowering at me, inches from my nose, punching me when I sassed him. The moment where I dug my thumb into his eye was always blurry, maybe that was why I was dangerous. I always blacked out whenever I lost control, it usually felt like fainting. Bleary lights devouring my line of sight until all I could hear was the loud drumming in my head. Anyway, I suffer from night terrors—that is, that sickness that makes me wake up screaming. Children are supposed to be the ones that suffer from it, apparently age doesn't matter in my case. This morning was no exception. I nearly flung myself out of bed, sweaty white sheets clutched tightly in my fists and I was screaming bloody murder. My throat felt raw, and I finally stopped, resumed with laborious panting. C'mon, Throw-down. Show me what you got. I could almost feel the sharp jabs stabbing into my chest, digging into my sternum, and the feeling of rage spilling over. Truth is, I'm angry all the time. A constant state of rage means that I'm unsuitable to live in normal society, because its' barely suppressed and I've already managed to cause a few male nurses to quit.

Pathological anger is neither coherent, not externally induced. It emanates from the inside and it is diffuse, directed at the "world" and at "injustice" in general. Directed at all the things that piss me off. All the things that would normally leave people unfazed, things that glide off their shoulders send me flying off the handle and the feeling makes me sick. Physically sick. Disproportionately incoherent, that's what they call me. I've heard nurses whisper behind their hands, look at me uneasily before they scamper away. They were afraid of me. No, they are. Afraid of everything they can't explain logically and scientifically, they feared all of us for very different reasons. Delinquents unfit for society. Hooligans who shouldn't have been born. It nearly made him laugh. Nurses and doctors alike whisper amongst themselves, with hushes tones, blatantly assuming because we have disabilities that we're also deaf. I've heard them talk about the way my eyes change when I suffer one of my “fits.” Sometimes, I wish I had a mirror so that I could see that look—maybe, it'd give me a little bit more understanding of the situation. I doubted it. I'd break the mirror, shatter it into slivers and resist the urge to destroy everyone in the building. They made me feel sick. It was ironic how they were the only ones who stood as equals. It was ironic that they were the only ones that made me feel like I had a chance out in the world when I knew I'd be here forever. I always joked that I wanted to join the circus, practice juggling chainsaws and swallow knives—anything sharp, anything to shock the audience.

I slumped back in my bed, pushing the blankets from my clammy body so that they were bunched at my feet. Everyone would be waking up, I already noticed Savannah's bed was empty. He probably went to go wake up Nevaeh, it was like some kind of weird ass ritual. I eyed the ceiling, unwilling to move from my spot even though my tense shoulders were knotting under my irritation. Why was I pissed? No reason

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:n e v a e h:

I heard a voice from across the room as Jesse awoke, no doubt because of Savannah's unwanted wake-up call. I registered the pitter-pattering of feet on the tiled floor as he crossed the room and plopped down infront of my curtain without a word. I pulled my black jeans up, fastened the button, and zipped them lazily, without even looking. It was one of those habits that I had known since I was young, and it just came naturally now. It wasn't that big of a deal, and it was no real talent. Every other person could do it, too. But it gave me a chance to really look outside, past my potted plants and into the cerulean sky. Savannah had been right; only a few clouds dotted the sky, promising rain sometime in the next few days. I had gotten good at being able to tell what the whether would be like at certain times of the year, and could almost always predict rain days in advance. Once again, it was no real talent. If one watched the sky as often as I did, one would pick it up easily.

Snapping from my tranze as I stared at the sky, I pulled my curtain back enough to see Jesse at my feet, though I was still very much topless. I stared down at him, a small frown on my lips as he cuddled his pillow close. It wasn't directed at him. It hardly ever was. I won't say never, because — like all roommates, and friends — we had our disagreements. I tried to avoid these, and usually went along with whatever other people said, just to avoid negative feelings. They sunk me, made me feel tired and weak. So much so that my body strained itself to breath, forcing sighs so that I would exhale stale air, and sucking in oxygen slow enough that people might miss the rise of my chest. But I was always like that in the mornings. Sometimes, I would awake to the green-eyed boy, forgetting who he was, and wish I could be as energetic as he was. It was usually around then that whatever was coming back for the day came back, and I'd begin my morning routine.

"Morning, Jesse." I turned to face my plants, tending to them gently. My Gerbera Daisies were beginning to bud, and one plant was even in bloom, it had odd creme coloured petals with bright magenta bases. I tilted my head slightly, and raised the face of one of the flowers into the sunlight, silently wondering why it was so different from the others. All the other buds where white, and I assumed they'd stay that way, too. But it was just another one of those mysteries. Finishing watering my plants (except for the cactus, because I had watered it yesterday, and it wouldn't need more for at least three days), I flopped down on my bed, fastening my watch around my wrist. It was only eight thirty, and I wanted to go back to bed. But I couldn't. Instead, I turned to look at Jesse and forced a smile. "How'd you sleep?"

It was a dumb question. Other than Savannah, who actually slept well here?

I felt a whisper against my back, fingers tracing my skin, and nearly jumped. I turned my head to see the offending roommate, and though I should have expected it... well, really, I had almost forgotten. Almost forgotten. It was one of those phrases that didn't resonate well with me, and I fairly scowled whenever someone carelessly used it in my presence. I was scowling now, but only because I had let Silus scare me half to death, even if the touches were as welcome as they were allowed to be. I didn't see why it was a big deal whether or not the residents got friendly with eachother. Rather, friendlier. I knew that it was alright as long as the nurses didn't catch you, and that was easy because they weren't allowed to have cameras in the room. It was considered invasion of privacy, and it infringed on our rights as Humans. Just because we were mentally unstable didn't mean we were mutants or criminals. Some of us were, though, yes. But not all of us. Some of us should have been watched more closely.

I laid back on my bed and stretched my arms out, staring up past the footboard at Silus. I couldn't see Jesse anymore, but that was alright. I'd be able to hear him when he answered. Until then, I smirked up at my tattooed roomie, a kind of silent, taunting invitation. It wasn't like I didn't know what he wanted, because it was completely obvious. Something struck me, though, and I had to frown now. Na... Navie? My brother, right? My boyfriend. And with his name and identity came countless nights of sheer passion that I'd spent with him. He was sixteen now, wasn't he? The same age as Savannah. As that thought occurred, Navie Heising's nearly waist-length chocolate ringlets and grey-green eyes morphed into the smallest golden ponytail I'd ever seen and bright emerald eyes, an elated grin... hovering over me. Why was it that when I thought of what our nightlife would be like, he was always the dominant one? It was the same thing with Silus; but it confused me, because I had never been the submissive party in a relationship before. I didn't think I could allow it to happen, not after— And there I stopped, because I remembered exactly what that bucket was for, and I was just lucky it was close at hand when those memories came rushing back.... What a morning.

------------------------------------------------------------

:s a v a n n a h:

Watching as Jesse came over to accompany Ryan, I smiled. I guess I was kind of looking out for him — I didn't want him to be alone in the mornings. I'd almost always watch him until someone else awoke, and then I'd slip away before they noticed me. Very contrary to how others perceived me, I could be a ghost when I wanted to be. Like now, as I moved on past the shower and took the first left, a closed door with a plastic plaque that read the room's number, 111, and the room's occupant, Karina Metronome. It was a private room, so of course, I couldn't help sneaking in there in the mornings when I could. And I kind of liked Karina, silent though he may be. He wasn't a bad guy at all. I slipped into his room, closing the door behind me, and peeked around the corner at the bed where he still lay. Was he awake yet? If he wasn't, he definitely would be soon. I crept up next to the bed, and knelt there, watching as he stared up at the ceiling. He was awake.

"Rina? It's Savannah; get up and get ready. Breakfast is in a half hour." I smiled gently at him, and kept my voice soft. I leaned my head on the stiff mattress, tried to cushion it with my arm, and couldn't get comfortable. So instead, I sat back and looked up at the ceiling, wondering why it was so interesting. I didn't know alot about Karina, just that he never spoke and that he lived in Room 111 alone, and that it was fun to hang around him even if it did get a little boring waiting for him to write his responses out. I wished that I knew sign language, because I would teach it to him, and we could have real conversations then. I wondered if it would halp him open up; not many people here did, and it was because of things that had happened to them before they came here. I even avoided talking about my past, so it was completely understandable that no one would want to talk about it. I hated reliving the memories over and over, everytime I saw Kraft Dinner, tasted cheese, heard music and singing. Everytime I was touched. When someone put their hands on me, whether it was on skin or cloth, I couldn't breathe. It scared me. Everytime someone touched me, something snapped in my head, and they weren't just going to touch me — they were going to hurt me, pin me down and force themselves on me.

I shook myself and realized that I had spaced out again. To quell the awful memories that arose for no particular reason, I started talking, and I didn't even register what about. I just did it to keep myself from thinking. "I had a good dream last night. It was about mermaids that lived in a river under a bridge in a city. I thought I saw something go under the bridge, so I went down to check it out, and the mermaids wanted me to go swimming with them. So I did, and I turned into a mermaid, too. Well, I guess I wasn't a mermaid; I was a... whatever they call a guy mermaid. A merguy. Whatever. I was half-fish, half-Savannah. Anyway, we swam all the way up the river into a lake, and there was a giant tuna there that tried to eat me! But me and the mermaids defeated it; and I brought it back here for lunch on a Saturday so we didn't have to eat that nasty egg salad." Yeah, I hadn't really heard most of what I had just said, but at least I wasn't thinking about anything else. I had actually been picking out shapes in the holes on the cieling tiles, and it kept me interested. So far, I had found a three-legged horse eating a cat, a deformed old woman, and a slice of Swiss cheese (which was actually just a whole tile, but that's what they reminded me of).

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No. I didn't want to get up today. There was no particular reason for it; I just didn't, and that was all that mattered. It was going to be one of those days where nothing came out of my mouth but colors and I became blinded by sound. One of those days where I started talking to people who I later discovered weren't actually there and specks of dust suddenly became spiders skittering across the walls. I was tired too, despite having slept for what I was pretty sure was a decent amount of time the previous night-- a rarity for me. Shifting my arms to drag the sheets up over my eyes, which were screwed shut to keep out the light, took way too much effort; the muscles were saturnine, filled with lead.

Come to think of it, this was like that one time where I'd swallowed a whole bottle of Mommy's pink pills. Benadryl, that was what they called... I'd known this guy named Ben once, but... but he hadn't been pink nor had he been a shimmering mist that turned out to be a traffic light. Light, light, light light lightlightlightlight. My eyes hurt now. No, no, I didn't want to get up today. My hands clenched around the edge of the sheet as if doing so would push the fabric further into my eyes and block out the offensive brightness even more. Somehow it worked, and I suddenly became acutely aware of the fact that people were talking around me. The majority of it didn't quite register-- the colors probably didn't match my mind right-- but I did catch the word "twinkle", and that made pretty sparkles shimmer behind my closed eyelids.

Oh. That was worse than the lights. I curled into a ball, still under the covers, and tried to make the stars get out of my eyes, all while mumbling something that could have been that one song Mommy used to sing to Sarah all the time. She hadn't let me sing it because she said I was a bad singer, but I thought I was pretty good! At least I got the words right! Would she be proud of me now, if she knew I had the words right?

My tongue stopped moving-- the stars were gone-- and my face twitched into what could be described as a frown. Did I have the words right? I wasn't so sure now. I could have said "scarf" instead of "star" or else just made up words like people told me I have a tendency to do. People... Oh! My friends were here, weren't they? My friends were always here. I liked my friends. The doctors said they made me better, and if I was better then Mommy would love me again and that was all I really wanted. Maybe getting out of bed wasn't such a bad idea? It would make Mommy happy. She was always telling me to get out of bed because she thought I slept too much. I had stopped sleeping just for her, but then she...

"Guys," a color-- or was it a word?-- left me quite suddenly. It was muffled by the sheet that still covered me, but audible nonetheless. "Why stars?" Or had I said "why scarves"...? Was it cold out? Oh, I didn't want it to be cold. Mommy didn't like cold, especially when it snowed. Would it be snowing? I'd need a star if it was snowing...

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I heard the door open because that was obviously what doors did other than close. However they could only do one job at a time and it all depended on what the door was doing beforehand. If it was closed it could only open and if it was open it could only close. Unless it was a revolving door but there are no revolving doors here at the institution - as far as I know anyway. I only know what they let me know and I bet that isn't much. They probably only let me know things that I don't even need to know but that make it seem like I need to know it. At least they let me know anything right because knowing something is better than knowing nothing. Unless I'm wrong in which case maybe I need to change the way that I think. But I like how I think - except when my thoughts think back to those days in that big empty house. Alone and unloved every single day and becoming more and more scared of them never turning around and telling me they loved me and trying to be around me. They were the ones who put me here forever in this room with no one but my thoughts for company. (And what a help they were.)

That was when Savannah's blond head appeared above me and brought a smile to my face. At least I wasn't alone anymore because alone was the worst thing I could be at any moment. He just had a brightness and fun about him that made him better to be around in every sense of the word. He was just a bucket of sunshine and fun wrapped up in a body but still shining through. Even if the ways he woke people up could be annoying I couldn't find it in me to be annoyed with him. I vaguely wondered if he would walk with me in the hall because it would make the large space seem smaller and more comfortable. Having one person around was better than having no one around. Because I obviously hadn't developed a fear of being alone and being unloved for absolutely no reason at all. Really; who develops a fear of something without some sort of trigger? People who craved attention. I didn't crave attention, I craved love.

Then he started speaking and I pushed myself into a seated position because I loved to listen to people speak. It was the tones and implications and rhythms and speeds and pitches and.... Just the voice itself was something that had fascinated me from the moment that I had lost mine. Without being able to created the miraculous thing called speech I had fallen in love with living through other people's voices. Imagining my own words coming through their mouths and what they would sound like with their voices saying them. Just something that entertained me and made me feel less handicapped and more in tune with everyone around me. Because I bet I probably know all of their voices better than they do - I actually listen to everything the voice has to offer. Silus' voice is probably my favourite; always has this husky, sexual tone underneath that makes me wish I could speak like that. The words I wish I could say always sound better when I thought of them in his voice.

So when I heard a gap in Savannah's words I pulled out something I'd had shipped and touched the screen. It would be a lot easier to type out my answers rather than write them - it was faster. That was until I finished my secret sign language lessons and was able to teach them to everyone. Then there wouldn't a barrier. There wouldn't be a struggle.

"Good morning Savvi," I typed before showing it to him with a bright smile. Another person's presence always made me feel better.

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When the curtain was yanked to the side, I shivered as the wind danced past me. I settled my chin further into the pillow, refusing to move so Ryan could walk past. He easily walked his way around me anyway, and as I cocked my head to the side and looked at him, he had no trace of sleep on his face whatsoever. Whereas to me, was a sleepy mess. My hair was static-y because I dragged my feet when I walked, and the side of my face most likely had sheet marks imprinted on it. Which brought me back to Silus, and how I envied the hell out of him for being able to sleep like a bear. Here I was, getting what? Four to something hours, five on good days, while Silus here, sleeps to his heart’s content.

“How'd you sleep?" Ryan asked, peering down at me.

I moaned into my pillow as a response, then mumbled about wanting some French toast.

“Good to see you guys' are all so cheery.”

Scooting over until Silus came into view, I gave a huff and sunk my face back into my pillow. Cheery. Maybe Savannah was cheery, and Ryan, and everybody else that was breathing the air in this room, but I wasn’t cheery. I was something close, but cheery didn’t come to mind when I saw dark eyes and golden speckled irises in the mirror. Maybe placid, or complacent, but cheery rolled off my shoulders and hit the floor with a icky thump. I didn’t see anyone else as cheery either. They could laugh, and smile as much as they wanted, but I’d call bluff. No one could possibly be remotely happy in this place, but once you get to the point where I am, you really couldn’t of cared less about anything with the exception of friends. Everybody could feign whatever they pleased because it just looked like there was something else breathing inside them.

“Think Twinkle-toes is awake?” Silus asked.

I looked up and eyed Silus, trying to recall which person he had given the lovely name Twinkle-toes to. It wasn’t Lyle, because well, you just don’t call Lyle Twinkle-toes. Not if you want a couple of teeth down your throat. And it wasn’t Patrick for sure, or any of the girls.. Which left Karina.

“Ah, maybe.” I replied, looking at his tattoo's, “He’s usually awake by now..”

I tore my gaze away from the designs running up and down Silus's arms and stood up. I brushed myself off, even though there wasn’t really any dirt or dust on the ground to begin with. I could eat off the floor if I wanted, honestly. Come to think of it, I think I might've already. They cleaned the place constantly. God forbid a particle of dust should land on the reflection worthy floor that they worked oh so hard on. And for what; I don’t know.

“Wanna go check?” I asked Silus as I looked over at Ryan, “Ry?”

The look on Ryan’s face made me stop, and take a step towards him, only to hear something else and snag my attention away. Patrick was murmuring something in his sleep again. A scarf? What the hell was Pat talking about?

“Ryan,” I said as I took a step towards the end his bed and gave a little shake to his ankle, “You okay, man?”

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#, as written by Akantha
Luca heard the sounds of faint shuffling, the sound that came with bare feet hitting the floor or a sock adorned one at that. She glanced towards the second bed in the room watching the girl sleep soundly. Her name was Lacrimosa. Luca huffed giving the girl a glare before moving to set the letter back down on her plush pillow. It wasn't that she disliked the girl but yet that she didn't want to even have one ounce of a chance to harm her. She was a beautiful broken swan who maybe had chances of surviving the hellhole Luca called Invisible Angel Institute. The memory loss perhaps was her worse factor. Luca didn't mind that and quite liked that she had to remind the girl sometimes, it amused her. Any other problems with the girl involved her schizophrenia. Luca didn't mind that either even though she didn't have a reason for liking it. She grabbed up her special towel and walked out of the room headed for the showers.

As she was walking towards the shower she hadn't failed to notice the flow of blond disappear down the hall going around the corner. "They're awake." The specimens she spoke so coldly of was the men next door. That room was full of males. She had tried to reason with one of the nurses that it was illogical to have a bunch of men next to girls but of course that conversation only ended in argument that involved her being threatened with a call to her father. She knew all of their names and knew mostly what they could do.

There was Silus, the perky or more pervy weirdo that Luca figured she would never get used too. Ryan the kid with amnesia. Jesse, well, she didn't know much about him at all. Going on to the last of the boys in the room was Patrick Sykes. The only thing she had to say about him was that he could confuse her faster than anyone else in the world. Her anger would be hotter than a hornet and then poof! She would be asking 'what?' two million times after that. She chuckled shaking her head. She knew that the person who had blond hair was Savannah. The cheerful boy who she liked more than anyone else, rather she liked his attitude. He lived in the room after hers with Lyle, the angry person who her own violent personality clashed with when his own problems were arisen. People didn't know her little secret though about him. That was fine and dandy too. Anyways, Savannah made things simpler and a was one of those people who seemed to brighten up the room with his outgoing personality. She didn't quite want to join the light but she could admire it from afar even though it turned a little dark sometimes. That was okay, since almost all bright images went dark at some point or another.

She took her shower and changed clothes that had a fresh scent of almost nothing. She glared at the bland clothes that laid on her small body before giving it an irritable huff. She walked out of the showers and down the hall again stepping into her room silently. She glanced to the girl once more then headed over to her bed sitting down on the soft covers. She pulled her left leg up to her chest as she turned her face to the bright window. "The light is so warm. It's not like the light of flames." Her voice came out soft and angry. She lowered her gaze feeling a spark of anger flare before she calmed herself. Returning her gaze to the window she shot an offhand remark to the second bed. "You should wake up. Breakfast is going to start soon." With this done she moved off the bed feeling restless and straining for a fight or something to calm her down. Going over to stand outside the room, she leaned on the door frame watching the hall quietly. The utterly blank halls that made her want to kick something. "Darn."

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I looked at the stars far too much, these days. Was it because I was scared to lose them from as far as I could see? Who was I kidding? Myself. I was kidding myself it wasn’t cute, anymore. Or did I kid around, ago? It didn’t matter, now. I died. A long time, ago but it seems as if I had some skill to summon these people. This scenery. The stars. I’ll just be as a normal girl, acting as if I was living but it was hard. Why? Because you couldn’t act as something you weren’t. You were who you were. You are what you are now. It was like that, a cycle of a frog. A flower, almost anything that lived. But still I had no living cycle, I had a dead one. The type like a wheel with the colors; rouge and noir but there was definitely a blank. I landed on that white blank, like Alice went down the rabbit hole. I went down the hole to the pits of Earth; Hell as I heard some say but I didn’t like that word. I liked the letter, “H,” but Hell was in another planet. It was different. I have also heard the words heaven. They say it’s cool there and hot in hell. Why was that? Was hell a beach in a summer day or was I just an un-intelligent person. If hell was to be a beach than Heaven was the beach on a winter day. I think each is very beautiful but I had never gone to the beach, before. I stayed here, all the time but don’t pity me. Pity those who landed on noir, staying in a burning hell. And those who landed on rouge, a suffering hell.

I awoke to a voice. Whose voice was this? I seemed to forget, due to my short-term memory. Isn’t that how I forgot about my life before I was died? I opened my eyes, no one was here. No one, it was an illusion that I heard someone. I couldn’t help but see the first bed, pulling the curtain. I now remember. It was my room-mate that I summoned. I summoned her soul to stay with me. Then, I never would be lonely and abandoned. What was I saying? I was never abandoned. It must just bee the voices bothering me over and over. The bodies of people I didn’t know telling me to just die. I was dead, wasn’t I? I wished there wasn’t a person, which would command me to do something other than those I summoned. Repeating the words, “Go die, you useless fool.” These voices were wrong, though. I was already died. Shouldn’t they say, something like, “Go burn in Hell, you.”

My eyes stared at the ceilings, blankly it wasn’t pretty. Nor was faces pretty. They didn’t look alive, rather ghostly. I didn’t like that. I soon used my legs to carry myself up, sitting in a circle shape. My legs were to my chest but I felt as if they weren’t. It was weird feeling. Very paranoid. My eyes looked at my legs they were there. And my arms were there hugging them to my chest, tightly. I looked straightly at the curtain, it was moving. I was just a curious person, couldn’t help my tempting sides. I stood on my legs, off the bed now. I flip the curtain that separated my bed and the other one. There stood a person, staring straight at me. Ice in their eyes. “Why don’t you just roll over and die.” I couldn’t help but repeat the word, “No,” quietly. Why was I acting so very chaotic even though I knew I was dead. Just illusions, the doctors would say but that word didn’t help. They were what I thought they were. Though, they weren’t real they were like abstract. Abstract in my eyes from their icy eyes. I covered the other bed with the curtain, sitting on my bed, again. The person or illusion the doctors would say to me, walked out through the door. I wished not to see that person ever again, even though I was not living.

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Silus


Friendlier was always a dangerous word when whispered around me, it was something I wasn't allowed to have. Between my sweaty palms and my ability to misread signals, friendly could morph into complete and utter, delicious destruction. I revelled in the slight scowl curled on Nevaeh's lips, I'd scared him but I could always tell that he didn't really mind. My touches weren't completely unwelcome, and this knowledge always sent shivers of desire cascading down my legs. The human rights restriction allowed me to have some sort of freedom amongst my friends, though the nurses and doctors always kept their watchful eyes on me—and who could blame them? In spite of the lack of security and obtrusive cameras, I always spotted lanky, crooked-nosed nurses peeking their heads in my room. Just in case, they'd always mutter before retreating back to their night time duties. I'd just cross my arms against my chest, feign an exemplary act of innocent confusion and resume whatever I was doing before they checked up on me. I desperately need you. Sometimes, I wasn't below begging.

My heart thumped quickly against my chest, veins seemingly widened and welcoming the increased blood and oxygen pulsing in. Every morning was the same—I looked at my friends, imagined them naked and writhing underneath me, I always ended up feeling crazy when I clamped my eyes shut. Not that my roommates made it any easier on me. Sometimes, I swore they teased and prodded my ailment from afar. Batting their eyes, licking their soft, inviting lips and laying down so innocently on their cots. So completely inviting, Nevaeh slumped back against his sheets and gave me that look—that look that made me wonder whether or not I was crazy to think that my lust wasn't misplaced. Debating whether or not I should crawl in after him, I took a deep, withering breath and leaned heavily against Jesse' bed. Whence the frown replaced the saucy smirk, I looked from Nevaeh, then to Jesse. Every now and again, I'd notice the amnesiac boy lapse into his memories. One moment, he'd be having a perfectly fine conversation with you, then his golden eyes would glaze over—the nurses had always warned us not to bother him when he had that look, because he was remembering. Remembering what exactly? I didn't know. Sure, we were all pretty good friends in the institute but we never huddled around a campfire, sharing our deepest and darkest stories. I didn't really care for the idea, either.

Stepping away from the bed, I rocked on my heels while considering Jesse. He was still huddled against the floor, holding the pillow against his chest like it was everything between him and the world—not so secretly, I wished it was me against his chest. Minus a few unimportant articles of clothes. If you're the bird, then I'm the worm. I wanted to ease my frustration against his neck, grate my teeth against all of the soft parts that made up the human anatomy and fumble against his defined collar bone—cascade down his shoulder blades, and just end myself. Friendlier. It was such a dangerous word. Cheery may not have been the word to describe any of the boys' that inhabited the dreary room, not even close. Frustrated was my word. Shackled, disheartened, impeded, obstructed: might have been other words to describe me. Happiness didn't exist in a place where they took what was you away, and I could smile all I wanted, but it never changed anything by the end of the day. Technically, they had my balls in a vice grip—meaning, in their hands, and I couldn't do anything unless I wanted them torn off. Jail was the next step, and without my dysfunctional family, I was nothing.

“Twinkle-toes,” I repeated, a small smile tugging at my lips. Karina had immediately earned that nickname in spite of being the incredibly fascinating creature he was. It might have been because he was slightly more feminine than any of the other boys' in the institute—except for Savannah, but that may have just been because of his unfortunate height. I'd always loved boys' who were shorter than me, call it a moe obsession. I caught Jesse looking at me, and I winked down at him. Completely giving in to my previous urges, I stooped down on my haunches and busied my hands through Jesse' soft, albeit frizzy ebony hair and let out an embarrassing moan. “Ah, your like a kitten,” I cooed, leaning in so that I was a hair breadths' away. As if suddenly remembering myself, my fingers twitched at the nape of Jesse' neck and I recoiled, straightening myself up so that I could cough nervously into my hands. If I had it my way, I would've created a harem from these beautiful boys' and girls' months ago. “Good idea, lets' go surprise him.”

Another voice caught my ears, and I twisted to face Patrick. He was mumbling something in his sleep, curled against his pillows and blankets—but I swear, I heard him say something about scarves. I wasn't completely sure. I took a few sneaky steps forward, balancing myself on the balls of my feet before I knelt at his bedside. Peering towards Jesse from the corners of my eyes, I couldn't help but let my gaze slowly rove over him. With a body like that, how could I resist? I allowed my hand to slither beneath Patrick's sheets to tentatively touch his back, and then I sniggered, plopping down beside him. “You're always the last one to wake up,” I complained, eyeing him for a moment. A small, sly smile crept on my lips. “I can show you stars.”

Lyle


My white-knuckled fists clenched and unclenched against the sides of my head, feeling more like dead weight the more I performed the methodical movements. The room was quiet asides from the frantic thumping of my heart, threatening to explode from my chest if I made any sudden movements. Like a rabbits, I thought. Except that I wasn't afraid, I wasn't a deer standing stupidly in the head lights—I was the guy in the truck mowing down innocent animals because I hated them, I hated those large, black doe-like eyes that batted their ignorance at me. Breathing slowly from my nostrils like the anger management psychiatrist had taught me, I unravelled my hands so that they rested against my temples, palms down. Soft, plodding footsteps slapped against the floor outside and I wondered brusquely if it was the bundle of joy returning to wake me, though I realized the footsteps were heading in the opposite direction. Karina. I couldn't understand why they'd given him a room all to himself—I'd been isolated a few times because I'd kicked nurses and doctors, bruised them against the floor when they'd insisted on shoving pills down my throat. As far as I knew, Karina wasn't in any condition to be alone, I didn't really know what his deal was.

Scowling at the sickeningly creme walls, I decided I'd laid in my bed enough. The entire room pissed me off, made me bristle with barely contained rage. They'd said that the colours on the walls calmed the patients down, but every time I spotted a slimy notch scraped out of the paint—I flew, I raged, I wanted to rip it all off. Chipped paint. On a scale of one to ten, I was constantly teetering on a nine. I brushed my shaky fingers through my hair, carefully combing the knots and frizz out with my fingers, until I was far too frustrated to deal with it. Sometimes, I resorted to pulling on my hair until the pain electrified down the roots, and caused me to stop. Would it have been sick to admit that I liked it? I wanted to absorb everyone's' pain and release it—at least then, I'd be useful. All the mirrors in the room were placed strategically behind thick plastic, a few inches away so that any brute force pushing against it wouldn't affect the reflected mirror. I hated mirrors. Immediately upon touching the floor, annoyance crawled just below the surface of my skin, the floor was freezing and I glared at it, blaming an inanimate object. I stomped past Savannah's bed, grabbed the wooden chair tucked into his desk and hefted it across the room. It crashed against the wall with a loud crack, not quite splintering but giving me some sort of satisfaction.

And then I laughed, it sounded edgy and unfamiliar, hitched a few octaves. Love yourself, so no one has to. My mother had once told me that, and remembering it now made me laugh—sick, right? I clutched my own throat tightly, dug my fingers against my esophagus, squeezing until water and stars bleated my vision. Water, because I never cried. Tears were impossible. Only deciding to stop when I felt dizzy, I straightened my shoulders and gasped, inhaling air like it was golden. Like I was a floundering fish thrown on land. I wanted to see the birds today. Maybe the old, grizzled crow would be sitting there, waiting for me. Or the sleek blue jay, mocking those grounded because it could take to the sky. Breakfast would be rolling around, and I'd already guessed that everyone was awake. Quietly stalking towards the bathroom, I splashed water on my face before heading out into the hallway. Maybe she was up.

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#, as written by Akantha
Luca heard rustling from the room behind her. "She's awake now." She frowned and figured letting the girl be alone for a while wouldn't hurt. She never remembered much anyways. Luca peered inside just to check in on her and nodded confirming her suspicions by seeing the slow movements of a body inside the room. She watched the body turn and stiffen as if noticing something it didn't like. Luca called out as she began to hear a monosyllabic word being repeated. "No? Hey Lara. Calm down in there. There's nothing in there." She peeked her head inside so that the girl could see her. "I'm Luca. Your roommate." She gave the girl a forced smile then returned to the hall to let the girl calm and finish doing whatever she was doing.

"Strange girl." She sighed tilting her head back to stare at the ceiling of the hallway. She reached up towards it then fisted her palm, anger bristling over her mind at something or another. Was it the dream? That was the likely answer that she was still sulking. Still craving the feel of her mother or maybe it was the feel of flesh being bruised under her knuckles. She could still picture the flames. She moved her fist to press it against her now closed eyes. Black spots appeared on her vision from the pressure. She wanted the images to go away but that too wasn't likely. It would probably bother her the whole rest of the day. She let her knuckles fall away from her eyes as she reopened them, blinking slowly. What a great day she was expecting to have. Yeah. Right.

She was lost in her thoughts as a crash from Savannah's room echoed into the hall faintly. She turned her face towards the room. Savannah had already gone as she had seen earlier. Into that person's room. The singular room with the person who went by the name of Karina. She shivered then focused back on the room where the noise had sounded. The only person left in there would have been Lyle. If sounds like that were happening in that room then it was to be known that he was probably in a bad mood. She bristled feeling her teeth grind a bit remembering some of their earlier fights. She knew that his fist must hurt just as much as hers probably hurt against one of her own victims. She winced imagining it as she heard footfalls come closer to the hallway. She tensed watching that door, moving to stand instead of her original position of leaning on the door frame. The beast emerged out of the room, his face just beginning to dry as water dripped down in tight beads. She grinned like a tiger spotting her weaker prey.

"Hello Lyle. It's such a good morning isn't it?" She couldn't help but let sarcasm drip from her last sentence. It was in her personality to tease and prod at others but Lyle was a special case. Especially since she was restless and aching for something to hurt. Plus she knew Lyle wouldn't take it. He would insult her back which made the game so much more fun. "Were you having fun?" She laughed and studied her nails turning her gaze away from him.

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:n e v a e h:

They were always so vivid. Vivid enough that I could feel every bruising touch and hear every foul word as if those three men were here in the room with me. I could feel two strong hands grasp my arms and another one grabbed my face as they forced me to swallow a thick, coppery, black liquid. Or was it black? Everything I couldn't remember was black. The colour of the drink, the mens' faces, the exact date on the calender, the time on the back of the stove.... But the rest of the room, which I remembered very well, was also black, but only because it had been well past midnight. Remembering the way the liquid tasted, indescribably disgusting, I sat up again and furrowed my brow. I felt sick. I opened my mouth and took a slow breath, holding it, swallowing it, pushing it down, releasing it. Reapeating. I glanced at the bucket. It had been cleaned recently, and I'd feel bad for dirtying it infront of Silus and Jesse. And Patrick was awake now, too. It was embarrassing to think they'd seem me completely vulnerable and pathetic.

I leaned forward, resting my head in my hands as I continued to breathe deeply, hoping that the nausea would settle, even if it was slowly; I just wanted it to end. I wanted all of it to go away. The dizziness, the pain, the memories. I swallowed hard as my mouth filled with saliva and my stomach started its convulsions. I squeezed my eyes shut and forced myself to my feet, heading for the small bathroom near the door. Though my voice shook, I forced it out. "You guys go ahead. I'll catch up." And I slammed the door that isolated the toilet, falling to my knees infront of it.

I hadn't eaten anything since last night's dinner of Shepard's Pie and the Apple Crisp that followed for desert, so not much came back up but stomach acid, which burned my throat and mouth. My eyes teared up as I coughed and gagged on the sour taste, choking on a breath that I barely had enough time to heave in before the convulsions in my stomach kicked up again, and I spit up another mouthful of bile. My whole body was in pain as this continued for too long; but eventually it ended, but I couldn't pick myself up. I laid there with my forehead rested against the cold porcelain, breathing heavily as tears streaked my reddened cheeks, and I reached up to flush the contents and hopefully get rid of the strong scent in the confined space. It definitely was confined. My knees hurt from being jammed down under my weight and bent into a position they weren't used to, held like that for too long. My whole body hurt. I was miserable, letting myself cry against the toilet bowl as if it were my closest friend. I wondered whether I was really crying over the physical pain, even though I was certain that it was the emotional pain that instiaged it this time.

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:s a v a n n a h:

I caught sight of movement next to me. Karina had pulled some electronic device out and had typed out a response so quickly that I barely had time to breathe. It was awesome! I grinned, seeing my own nickname — I loved the way it was spelled so creatively; screw anyone who thought that it was misspelled — and stood to lean over for a closer look. Besides all the on-site medical emergency equipment and whatever, this was the most technology I had seen n a little while, and needless to say, I was impressed. After all, things like cellphones had signals that could mess up the heart monitors and the other things that I couldn't remember, but were probably at least halfways important. But this.... This was cool. It made me think of Karina as the kid in school who had everything. He was pretty and sweet and friendly, now he had this... thing, whatever it was.... Of course, I realized that the figure in this role in the school in the theatre of my mind had the ability of speech, and often used large words that I understood... when they weren't all grouped together. How long had it been since I had deciphered something that he had said in one of my space-outs; something that wasn't, literally, "Blah blah blah blah." Most of the time, he just sounded like the adults in Charlie Brown....

"Ohayo, Rina-rina!" I stood up straight and held my palm up, giving another of my signature grins. I wondered if he knew what it meant, but I shrugged it off. He was smart enough; he could figure it out. Instead, I continued to get excited, more and more so as I skipped to Karina's dresser and pulled open one of the drawers to route around for one of his shirts that I thought looked really good on him. Or maybe it was in the wash? No, I found it, pulling it out and holding it against my own body so I could turn and show it off. "I think you should wear this today; you look so good in it. What d'you think? Besides, today's special, and I really want it to be memorable!" Then I paused in my own musings. "I wonder if they'll serve cake for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.... Mango cake. With mango ice cream! And sixteen candles! On each of the three mango cakes, and maybe in the ice cream, too, just for good measure. Oh, but that would melt the ice cream. Just the cake, then. Ahh.... Eden would've just loved to be here...."

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I didn't do much of anything until Savannah answered my good morning with one of his own. Obviously followed by that signature and hand lift I was on my way to decoding. Not that I really needed to but the mystery was there and I will solve it no matter what happens from her until the point that I solve it. Because in all honesty Savannah was just a person I wanted to understand fully. I wanted to understand how he could be happy enough for three people in the morning. I wanted to know why he never ate macaroni and cheese. I wanted to know why he hated music as much as he did. He was just someone I had to solve because he always left more mysteries on my hands than I could handle. One solved well here's another one in case you got bored. Never ending but enjoyable because around him I find no reason to become annoyed or upset. He takes it all away with that over the top bubbliness of his and the positivity he sheds off in tons. I enjoy being around him in the mornings because he scares away the grey clouds left by the dreams I have of brown hair and knives.

She had the softest brown hair.

I actually felt like giggling when he pulled out my favourite navy blue button up shirt and held it against himself. I'd bought it because I thought it made my hair pop and look more vibrant. Apparently I had been right because I looked so good in it. Which is a good thing I have come to believe and if Savannah was saying it I would trust him. Like I trusted the day to have light minus eclipses and the night to be dark minus the full moon. I've never felt him lie to me before and if he has I forgive him because he still comes back and treats me like a human despite my useless vocal chords. They all treat me like a human here; like I'm not completely mute and that they can hear me. That's the best part of this place I think. I'm heard without making a sound. I mean something here. I can be happy here. Except when they shove me in here alone to suffer and sweat and fear that I will always be alone and unloved by anybody and everybody.

I wonder how my mom is doing.

Mangoes? I want to know if mangoes are good because that seems to be all Savannah can talk about. I have never had a mango and the amount of adoration blondie throws into them I want to meet them and taste them. Is that wrong? That sounds very sexual. I'm going to make sure I tell Silus that one; I bet he'd like it.

"Walk with me in the hallway?" A thought suddelycame to mind and I edited what I typed to incorporate my new found thought into my sentence. "Are they up yet?"

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Love. An emotion that just didn’t seem to want to appear around Silus. Scared away by lust, and I’d be lying if I said he was probably capable of it. Not like he was a bad guy, but he wasn’t the kind of person I’d go to for comfort to. People who felt things like regret and sadness were easily taken advantage of by people like Silus. He was cunning, sexy, and just down right sly with the things he did. I didn’t know whether to be disgusted or fascinated with him, but I still only saw what I saw with Ryan and Patrick when I looked at Silus. Which I couldn’t name at the moment, and probably never will, but it was all the same, and sometimes I wondered if there was some screws loose in my head. Everyone had a someone, and someone always had something. It was the kind of something that brought the best out of people. A kind of something I didn’t seem to own.

And as Silus’s large hands found their way to my neck, I realized I had a situation here. The same situation that always seemed to happen when I got too comfortable around him. His hand paused, just like I knew it would, and I could already see the wheels turning in his head. Not that he had ever gotten farther than I would’ve let him, because far with me just wasn’t there. I was a virgin; another thing no one knew about me. Or maybe they did. Maybe there was some kind of thing that separated virgin’s from the experienced that only the experienced could see.

The farthest I had gotten was with some kid in my class that I had barely known. It was a one time kind of thing. We had a car, time needed to be killed, and he was just there. We had parked in the lot behind Seven Eleven, planning to smoke the weed he had stored in his glove compartment. We both knew what was going to happen anyway. I had teased him with almost strokes and not quite touches. One thing led to another and before I knew it he was fumbling with my belt. I didn’t know what to do, so I probably blew the situation up more than needed. I had panicked, hopped out of the car and left despite me being the one who had led him on in the first place. Word got around that things that didn’t happened; happened. Eventually it got to Len, a friend that I just so happened to be whoring around with also. He got angry, I got angry, and that was the end of that relationship. What came out of that incident? My hate for shallow relationships. What that has to do with anything? Ask me later.

“I can show you stars.” Silus told Patrick.

I scrunched up my nose and walked towards him, a frown painted on my face.
However, before I could drag Silus off of Patrick’s bed, Ryan’s voice interrupted me, giving me a better reason for my frown to turn hearty.

“You guys go ahead. I'll catch up." The unsteadiness in Ryan's voice was obvious.

“O-kay.” I replied, even though he was already out of the room. He’s been doing this since I’ve known him, but it still didn’t stop my mouth from turning sour.

I spared another glance to where Ryan ran off, and then grasped Silus’s arm an attempt to get him off of the vulnerable Patrick’s bed.

“I’m going to show you stars if you don’t get dressed,” I said to Silus.

Pulling on Silus’s arm and shaking Patrick’s leg with my free hand, I whined, “C’mon Pat, wake up. Don’t you want to go see Karina with us?” And spare your life from being devoured by the Silus?

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I didn't exactly notice Silus's presence behind me until somebody else started talking-- I think it was Jesse-- and when I realized that he was there, I quite literally rolled away from him and ended up crashing to the floor in the process, tangled in sheets. It wasn't snowing and it wasn't particularly cold, so that was good. I didn't need a star like Silus had offered to show me, whatever he meant by that. Did he mean the kind of star that kept you warm when you wrapped it around your neck or something else entirely?

"I c-can't be Karina; I'm on the d-d-door..." I muttered quietly, attempting unsuccessfully to disengage myself from the blanket, which was starting to look suspiciously like some sort of waif-like white monster embracing me so it could digest me as slowly as it pleased. The instant that particular idea struck me, I started to panic. I didn't want to be digested! Slowly, it grew teeth and short fur and eyes. Oh God, I didn't like those eyes. They drilled into me with merciless scrutiny, taking in my fear, feeding on it. I flailed madly for a moment and suddenly it was a sheet again. It was under me now, too, meaning I could stand up, which I did immediately.

Now I could see who was in the room with me. There were a few extra people aside from my roommates, but I ignored them. They weren't friends, so they were probably not real. That's what the doctors told me, anyways. The doctors were-- wait, where was Ryan? I didn't notice that the bathroom door was closed, didn't recall hearing him speaking earlier. All I noticed was that he was missing, and that wasn't right. A low whimper escaped my throat unimpeded by the words that had suddenly departed my mind like a flock of startled birds. My shoulders immediately hunched and my elbows crooked upwards, pulling my hands up into my chest in a nervous, vaguely defensive gesture. My teeth found my lip and bit down hard enough to reopen the old wounds from past chewing. I tasted blood, but that didn't make me stop.

Ryan was missing. Missing, missing, missing, where was he? I would have asked if my mouth was capable of forming words, but the only sound I could currently make was that pathetic, high-pitched whimper. I sounded a bit like a dog. I didn't like dogs. They were too big and loud and had sharp teeth and-- was I a dog? I sounded like a dog. Did that make me one? But dogs didn't stand up like I was standing, and I was standing on the door...

My eyes slid gently out of focus, reducing the room to dizzying smudges of color, as my thoughts took off, too quick even for me to follow.

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I heard the same voice, my roommate. I remembered that since it ended up sticking to my brain cells like gum. “Lara,” the girl said. Was that my name? Though, I was so very sure my name was, Lacrimosa. Lacrimosa. Lara. I guessed that they sounded alike but was it me or was it me? The things I summoned were confusing. First, calling me Lacrimosa. Then, Lara. It was weird but this was the dark, though light hole of the sunny beach like some said. No, I assumed that it was a beach, I. My legs felt stiff couldn’t move hearing her words, “Calm down in there. There's nothing in there." There definitely was something here, but it left a while, ago. Her roommate was right. Nothing was in here right, now. But there was something but it wasn’t visible, right now. They were hiding from those who she summoned. It was mean, to do that but still those people did. I repeated the word, “Luca…” My roommate’s name was Luca. It sounded easy to remember but it wasn’t since I had short-term memory. I turned my head to the door, Luca left. And I was sure; it wasn’t an illusion that spoke to me as doctors said.

I decided to just stop being scared. Those people knew I was dead but still they liked to joke around and bully me. I didn’t know why but I wanted to know. Why? It must have been my scared reactions but I never did much, when I saw those figures. I would just shiver and sit, looking restless. Was that a scared reaction? I was sure, it wasn’t. I was shivering because of the hot weather in Hell or the sunny beach. It made me feel sick made me want to feel the air of heaven but I was afraid of the cold, though what was the cold? I didn’t know what the cold was but still I shivered thinking about that word. It wasn’t because I was scared or shy. This happened because… the heat like, always.

I decided it would be best to just go out of this loner room but that person may still be outside. Telling to die, I was going to shiver, if I saw that person. Be brave, I would say to myself, mentally. You were dead. You don’t have to be scared. Since, there was no need for being scared in Hell. Only if you were unlucky, scared you would be. I was lucky to summon such lovely souls, who were nice to me. What did the word, nice mean, again? I forgot, it meant mean but… what did the word mean, mean? These words confused me like the words, broken, beautiful, new, pink, or just real. I didn’t understand but I was just sure that it wasn’t because I was stupid. It was because I was un- intelligent.

My legs made me stand, narrowly, shifting around. I could hear laughs, “What a chicken, you are!” I was a chicken. I wasn’t a chicken. Were chickens dead? I wasn’t sure but still I couldn’t help but run on my two legs out of the room. I was happy, that I was out of that room. Still, those people followed me. I just ended up sliding onto the ground, hiding my face in my knees. Those voices still remained, “Why not look at us, SCARED!” I wanted to yell to them. I wasn’t scared, I wasn’t scared of nothing. It was just an illusion, since illusions are natural in the beach of heat. But, like doctors told me, I should just sit down and ignore them. “Be calm,” the doctors, I summoned would tell me. I summoned them to heal me, was that, right? I didn’t know, but it was along those beautiful lines. My face was still buried in my knees; I could hear the loud laughing in the background.

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Silus

Honestly, I wasn't all that familiar with what love really meant. I knew the definition by heart—the doctors constantly harped on me about it, nagging into the recesses of my ears to push some deeper meaning there. Planting nothing, really. From what I'd read in the dictionary, love meant a profound tender, passionate affection for another person. Didn't that mean that I was hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with everyone? The fluttering feeling swimming in my stomach urged me to say yes, yes yes. Whenever my knees felt like buckling, whenever I wanted to crawl on my knees and beg for that love—wasn't that the same thing? I hoped to God that the taste of dirty socks and the colour of polka-dotted sheets wasn't love, it couldn't be. I space things out in a strange fashion, line up my doubts and urges and wants and hope that I'll eventually come out alive. I'm the boy who inhaled the world, clutched against sore hips and placed pennies on everyone's' eyes. Their damned beautiful, and sometimes I wanted them to see that. I often wondered if they took me seriously, but the wary glances I received from Jesse—from the corners of his eyes, barely noticeable—made me doubt myself.

If they only knew what I felt for all of them, sappy poetry dipped in sweetness could never even begin to describe it. Every single word utter from their lips top sided me, I swore. Those words that slipped from them, even vague sentences about lunch, collided into galaxies of I-don't-want-to-leave-this-place, and I wish I could say they occupied my space. When I looked at Jesse, caught his attention and locked eyes, a small guilty smile appeared and I humbly slunk away from Patricks' bed. I realized at that moment how my words bordered on outright sleaziness, I comforted myself by rubbing the intricate designs spattered across my arms. Another sickly, wavering voice caught my ears and I immediately swung my head in Nevaeh's direction, only to see him hurry into the bathroom. A slighted frown replaced my wry expression, and it was genuine—I worried about my roommate all the time, I held a special spot in my heart for him. Sometimes, I even fought the animalistic urges for him, realized that he suffered in the maze that made up his memories and tried my best not to put anymore stress on him. With those hunkered shoulders of his, telling me 'I don't wanna be here, I don't wanna talk, I don't even know this place.' It was enough to break my heart. In truth, I was always a broken romantic bending over backwards to show them. Show them how much they mean to me, how much they mean to the world.

Exchanging worried glances in Jesse' direction, I allowed him to pull me from Patrick's side, straightening my position and rolling my strong shoulders before peering back down at them. Patrick was vulnerable, not just right now, but always. From the first time I'd laid eyes on him, he reminded me of a lost child—just looking for his way home, dearly wanting to see his mothers' face. I wished that I felt the same way about my mum, but through the sweaty, feverish nights, I hated her the most. I'm going to show you stars if you don't get dressed. The edge rising in Jesse's voice provoked another wry grin, I leaned close, wrapped my arms quickly around him and gave him a comforting squeeze, before hopping away towards my bunk. Unwelcome thoughts invaded my mind, and possessed the only weakness I had when I opened my drawer and plucked a particularly ugly shirt from it, with a sewn-on insignia on the breast pocket. My mum swore to the world that they'd never reach her, they'd never tear her from me like my father had been. She'd never give herself away again. Those were the days that I said I'd never sing of love if it didn't exist. Sometimes, when I spot blue skies and wide-open eyes—I decide, maybe, that I was wrong.

Jaw setting, teeth grinding harshly against the molars in my mouth, I slammed the shirt back into the drawer and pulled out a particularly dashing checkered dress-shirt. Blue. My favourite colour. Buttoning all of the nearly-translucent clips, I wrestled the shirt over my head and wriggled until I was able to pull it down from the bottom. I always put on clothes that way—backwards, they'd say. Next, I grabbed a pair of old, worn dark jeans that fit snugly and showed off my rear, and stepped through them. I nearly fell over trying to tug them on, catching myself on the edge of the bed and yanking on the back until they rested comfortably at my hips. “Happy now?” I whispered teasingly, glancing over my broad shoulders. “Though, I might like to take that stars offer later.”

I caught sight of Patrick sitting up in his bed, hunched up like a cornered animal, and self-destructively chewing at his bottom lip. My own lips curled slightly, before I waved my hands and pointed towards the bathroom door, hooking my thumb.
“S'okay, Pat, he's in the bathroom.” I mimicked brushing my teeth, shot him a beaming smile and teetered towards the bathroom door. Shutting them out—because Nevaeh hated them to see what he did every morning, I didn't understand. I rapped my knuckles softly against the door, whistling a pretty tune between the slight gap behind my canine tooth. Honestly, I could mimic nearly every bird in the yard: from the dashing blue jay, to the grizzled crow and the small group of chickadees chirping their own tunes.

“Let us know if you need anything, yeah?”

Lyle

I think everyone's wounded in their own ways. I don't even think that I'm delusional or sad or depressed—I'm angry, and it pisses me off that they can throw my freedom out the door, swallow the key because I'm frustrated. I had a nightmare last night—I have a nightmare every night, the same dejavu countenance that makes me believe that living is unbelievably impossible. I was in a room full of people but they didn't notice me. I grasped at their hands and tripped over their feet. I screamed at their backs and cried in front of their own blank eyes. Eventually I started clawing at my own throat because everything I said couldn't truly convey what I was feeling, it reminded me of my morning routine: throw Savannah's chair across the room, failing so completely at breaking it apart and throttling myself until water swam in my eyes. You aren't really a monster, the doctors whispered into my hands, handed me useless papers with happy faces and calendars of my daily feelings. It was just a mask I decided to wear for awhile. I should be heavy with regret, guilt about my genocidal attempts at murdering Savannah's chair, but I'm starkly aware—and I couldn't care less. Sometimes, I wished it was a person.

And there she was, leaning against the door frame like she owned the entire damn place. Anger comes hot and tawdry to lick the line of my pulse, and make it race, turning time to dust. I swear to God, whenever I lay eyes on her, my chest parts and I want to throw any organ I can at her. Volatile, a live thing that stirs to dizzy me with white noise and make me shudder against the feeling that seems so unfamiliar. If I compared it to anything, it wouldn't be a river—it'd be a fucking ocean. Licking my lips, I wiped the remaining dewlets dripping down my face with the sleeve of my shirt. The smile that teased the corner of his lips made me tense my shoulders, I gripped my fingers tightly into fists before releasing them, breathing out from my nose. Whoever said that breathing techniques worked are bullshiters. I snorted at her dry sarcasm, eyeing past her slender shoulders to see if Luca was up as well. No morning was a good morning in the institute. In spite of Savannah's contagious energy and optimism, I was the angry Eeyore of the institute. I knew I'd never see the light of day, this place only posed as a better place compared to any of the correctional facilities. Goading. That's what she was doing, turning her nails this way and that, studying them with feigned interest.

I was already shaking. Hook, line and sinker—Luca's sarcasm, and just the tone of her voice drove me crazy. Ignoring the warning bells screeching in my mind, I closed the gap in between us and pinned her against the door, fingers outstretching around her throat. I wasn't squeezing just yet, but I stared down at her, towering with my advantageous height. My fingers probed for her pulse, but I already knew that she wasn't afraid—and in reality, this was what she wanted. I wanted the satisfaction of the quickened pulse, to tell me that she was afraid. But I already knew. How sick were we? I heard footsteps plodding behind me, passing the threshold of the door and falling into the long, plain hallway. From the corners of my eyes, I spotted Lacrimosa huddled against the wall, burying her face into her knobby knees. How sick were we?

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#, as written by Akantha
Luca watched him amused by the bristling anger she could see in his eyes. She felt that pleasurable feeling brim at the top of her emotions. The one thing that made her smile in the place where she never smiled. She could see all the reactions of an angry beast. No, a bull that wanted to charge. That tiger that when tempted with prey goes for the kill. She fidgeted excitement beginning to topple the pleasure she felt. She grinned as he went into motion so quickly that her eyes just barely followed.

He had her pinned against the wall. She almost laughed but contained it, just barely. His eyes showed the rage that she wished she could express. The only problem with that was that she still had some sense of being courteous from her mother. In some ways, she guessed that she teased Lyle because he could express that emotion that she couldn't. She could express her anger but she could never flip that switch into rage unless she was being ravaged by shadows, attacked by mobs, or consumed by the flames in her dreams. She couldn't tell who she was hurting then. She wanted to know who was feeling the pain and that the person deserved it. She shivered from the delightful electric adrenaline shocks going up her spine. "Lyle. Do you really want to hurt me? What did I ever do to you? Are you doing this because your not so pretty on the inside?" She raised her hand to touch her index finger to the spot where his heart would have been. "Is it because your feeling lonely or perhaps, sad?" She giggled moving the hand that was already raised down his chest to his hand that was gripped on her throat in a slow stroke. "You should do something about that you know. It's not healthy to be angry all the time." She dug her nails into his hand knowing it wouldn't do much. Turning her face and exposing her throat, she brushed the dark brown hair away from the frail skin feeling dangerous and unbidden. "Go ahead. I know that you can't control yourself like I can." She emphasized the last three words with her snide tone. Mocking him to his face. She was about to say something else when she heard footsteps come out of her room into the hall. Shifting to peer over his tall figure, she spotted her roommate. "Darn it." She pushed Lyle off with a hard shove to the chest slipping out of his grasp.

"Lacrimosa." She spoke her name as she crouched next to the girl analyzing her expression. "They aren't there. Your here with me. Those things aren't even alive. Their just jealous because you live where they want to. Ignore them. Be proud. Your with me in this reality." She reached out summoning up the feelings her mother had invoked in her. The gentle touches her mother gave her. Touching the girl's shoulder as softly as she could without hurting her and shook her a bit. "Come back." She moved the hand to rest it on the girl's hair ruffling it slightly like a father would when he would tell his child that he loved them. Luca could only give out the memories to the girl because she knew no better. What gentle touches could Luca give her when all she wanted was violence? When just a few seconds ago to had been tempting a beast that could have hurt her unafraid? Memories were the only things she had that would suffice in a situation like this. Even if it hurt to remember those things.

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What was it? Was it the way hands bruised and words bled? Was it broken records scattered on the floor, or unsteady hands desperate to latch onto something? It was perception, wasn’t it? I saw you as some greedy bastard, and you saw me just the same. She looked at you and saw the young man she married twenty years ago, I looked at you and saw a monster. And when the balance she had going on tipped, she convinced herself it would all end eventually. It was a phase, and it wouldn’t go on forever. Couldn’t, because she wouldn‘t be able to carry it. She would do something before anything happened. Right after this hit.
And when I looked at her, all I saw another face in the crowd. Another face that was just trying to make it out, looking everywhere but home, and if my walls didn‘t already have cracks and crevices, I would’ve dared to think that she moved out of her own way just so her eyes wouldn’t meet my painted ones. And when the corners of Silus‘s mouth threatened to smile, I could’ve sworn I saw guilt somewhere there. All he needed was a parachute.

Silus gave me a reassuring hug then disappeared behind the curtains, leaving me with Pat who looked like he was about to either throw up or faint. Especially since his face was taking on a ghostly shade of white, making hues of green stand out in his frightened eyes. I would’ve never told anyone, but Patrick’s eyes never seemed to fail to amaze me. The hues and speckles packed into one iris was marvelous, and it made me feel like I had been betrayed somehow. Here he was with these green eyes, and here I was with brown eyes. Mom had green eyes, but I got stuck with his. An ugly brown color that reminded me of him. They looked like his, and even had the same disgusted look when I peered down at my own reflection. I wish I had green eyes, or better yet, no eyes at all.

“Pat,” I said as I took a step toward him, “It‘s alright.”

I cocked my head to the side, and placed my hands on my knees, trying to peer up through Patrick’s rusty-colored hair so I could see his face better, and try and figure out what he was freaking out about. Then Silus told him Nevaeh was in the bathroom, and my mouth took the shape of an O. Holding up one finger at Pat, I turned around and snatched up my pillow on the floor before getting dressed. Hurriedly rummaging through my dresser, I grabbed a grey shirt and a pair of jeans. Jeans.
I watched as my foot, seemingly with a mind of its own, took a shot at the dresser, kicking it hard an attempt to stop the pressure from behind my eyes from exploding. The ache in the back of my throat was threatening to claw its way out if I didn’t take a breath. I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and sucked in air, my face contrasted in pain from the throbbing in my foot. Though the throbbing in my foot didn’t come close to the ball of anger pressed behind my throat.

“Tripped,” I mumbled to whoever had heard, “Sorry.”

As soon as I was done getting dressed, I pushed the curtain separating me and Patrick’s room aside, glad for a distraction because my skull felt like it was going to cave in and crush the contents in it if I didn’t do something. I let myself fall facedown on Pat’s bed, humming to a tune that I was sure didn't exist.

I think we all needed a parachute.

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I would like to die, again. I wanted to land on noir, or even rouge, now. If I did I wouldn’t hear these voices, would I? Life was a mystery. No, Hell is a mystery. Hell is a sunny beach, so bright but it was still dark. Though, how could the Sun be dark? I didn’t know. This was just another, thought that came out from my mind that didn’t make sense. Blame my short-term memory for that. Blame my stupid, dumb brain cells that told me to be flat. Flat having no emotions, at all, nothing just a flat face outlined with a chessboard pattern.

I heard my roommate’s voice, again. Her footsteps but it wasn’t to clear. The laughing still stayed, torturing me. This time when one I summoned came they didn’t hide, they just continued to laugh. Laughing as if my roommate wasn’t there. “Scared cat!” It sounded like a few dwarfs, yelling. But, I didn’t know what a dwarf was? I didn’t know anything, at all. I picked up my head, there were no illusions. Maybe there was some but I must been blind. The doctors told me if some are blind, they have no eyes. No eyes, at all it felt sad but I had eyes I could feel them. I lifted my hand up to my face feeling my eyes, which was still there. Did the doctors, really say no eyes? I didn’t remember, the only word that repeated in my cells were eyes, eyes, eyes. No eyes on a sunny beach.

"They aren't there. Your here with me. Those things aren't even alive.” My roommate was wrong again. They were here but maybe my roommate couldn’t see since I summoned them from their physical body. Where was their physical body, though? I always thought about this, always? Still, I had no idea where their physical body was. Was it in the sunny beach with the black sand? Or the sunny beach with the sea so, very red? Maybe, it was like that. I didn’t know. I never knew. Their just jealous because you live where they want to. Ignore them. Be proud. Your with me in this reality." I lived where they wanted to? No, they lived with me, escaped from noir and rouge coming into the beach with the stars so white and a face smiling to you when a black cape covered the blue mirror, which was beyond my reach. They weren’t jealous. They were jealous. Jealous meant that someone liked you? Or did it mean that they didn’t like you? Like was confusing, so was jealous. Everything was really confusing. They always were…

Reality. That was a pretty word. Pretty… didn’t that mean… pretty? “What does reality mean?” Did it mean numbers? Did it mean stars? Did it mean a pretty face? What did that word mean? I could feel my roommate’s hand in my hair, slightly touching it. I stared at my knees, “Do you have a name?” Did this soul she summoned have a name? Like, a word, a name, a word, a name. I could see another soul with no physical body. This one looked different from my roommate but was all souls different. Even if they looked, different.

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Silus's reassurance that Ryan was fine and just in the bathroom barely reached me in that place where echoes stayed etched into my mind like crude graffiti scratched into a bathroom stall door or, better yet, lovers' initials carved carefully in the hard flesh of a tree. I was remembering Mommy, the flashbacks ranging in vividness and feel from harsh an terrifying to sweet and dreamlike. I liked the dreamy ones better; they honestly felt more real to me even though they had all happened at some point. Everything felt like a dream to me except for the nightmares, so I could relate pretty well. 

But then Jesse was there before me and my thoughts leapt suddenly from a tranquil memory of Mommy reading to me back before Daddy died to the seemingly random realization that my roommate's eyes were brown. I had of course noticed that before, but now that fact dominated all else. Silus's words didn't even mean anything to me now because I'd forgotten that someone was missing. My lip stopped hurting as my teeth had released their grip on it. 

Then Jesse got up and I was left with a totally silent state of being, which was extremely rare for me, even with the medication. I decided that I ought to get dressed seeing as everyone else was doing that and immediately proceeded to do just that. The garishly colorful clothes that I so preferred replaced the plain ones that I slept in. I'd never really liked baring skin to anyone, so my scrawny body was exposed for the minimum amount of time that it takes for one to cover their body in clothing. 

Now feeling significantly better than I had been just a moment ago-- the colors just had that effect on me-- I turned to sit down on my bed but found it occupied. How had Jesse managed to get there so invisibly? I sat myself down, carefully so I didn't accidentally sit on him, and prodded him deliberately in the ribcage with one finger. 

"You dream-- I mean seem-- red today," I observed. To me, red currently meant gloomy, sad, tired or some other similar word, but I substituted colors where they did not belong so often that it people sometimes got confused. 

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:n e v a e h:

I summoned what strength I could and lifted my head when I heard Silus' voice on the other side of the door. I heard only the sound of his voice — I couldn't make out any of the words, just the changes of tone associated with speech and whistling, like a bird's song — but it was enough to force myself up on the wall, hold myself there until I was steady, and eventually open the door. I imagined that I probably looked like crap, skin sallowed and sickly, hair in disarray from the abuse it took when I gripped onto it to keep it out of the path, body weak and shaking.... I moved out to the small mirror and sink next to the toilet, beyond the door, and forced myself to look. I was surprized to find that it wasn't half as bad as I had imagined and let a smile flicker across my features. Over-reaction. Pale skin had gotten only paler, contrasting with dark hair that was in disarray but only because of the way I sleep. Chocolate-hued eyes looked tired and worn out, but that would fix itself after I showered and had breakfast.

I picked up a plastic cup that sat next to the sink and ran cold water into it, enough for a few mouthfuls. I took one and cringed — it wasn't exactly fresh mountain spring water — but continued to rinse my mouth out with it until the cup was empty and brushed my teeth. Still, the taste refused to leave my mouth. I frowned and lowered my head. I could feel Silus behind me, but hadn't said anything yet. I had barely noticed his presence, though admittedly he was probably the only one I would have gotten to my feet for. There was just something about him that made me want to try, no matter what I came up against, but I suppose he had that effect on alot of people. It made me feel like I was one of a million, indistinguishable amongst everyone else, irrelevant to the earth's natural flow. Insignificant. Small. Unworthy. Useless. And it continued like that until I couldn't look in the mirror anymore, knowing I would hate what I saw: the orphan left behind in the wake of a brutal rape and murder, taken pity on by a widowed father and his son. Scared and alone because he didn't remember his own parents, or what had happened to them, and everyone knows but they won't tell him. Things kept piling up until I turned away from the mirror altogether, unable to bear the thought that it was even there. No, not that it was there; that I would be in it, staring back at myself.

I had learned long ago to remove myself from those things that made me feel this way. I forced myself to take a deep breath, push that sunken, tired feeling away. Force a smile. Look happy. Change the subject if I had to. Because if I did, people wouldn't worry about me.

"So, what do you think's for breakfast?"

------------------------------------------------------------

:s a v a n n a h:

Managing to give up my theatrics and take a breath for once, I read the newly typed questions and smiled. "Last I checked, Ryan and Jesse are awake. I managed to disappear before Lyle woke up.... And I'm not sure about Luca and Lara." I liked the way the girls' names sounded like that. Luca and Lara. In all technicality, I knew they were Emily and Lacrimosa; but Luca and Lara made them sound like a pair of dolls. Yes, dolls. They were the only two girls living on our half of the fourth floor, so that was how I thought of them. A pair of cute little playthings, but so technologically advanced that you couldn't tell. I hadn't seen many women growing up, most of my interactions were with significantly older men, and my world was Eden's. Even at school, we were afraid to socialize, and we never saw girls as anything different than boys. Until I was put into my foster home, I wasn't sure whether or not there was a difference between the genders; and when I realized that there most definitely was, and that I was supposed to be attracted to them... I wasn't sure what to think of that, either. I went my whole life knowing nothing but purely sexual relationships between two males, and the thought of actually loving a woman mind broke me. Was such thing possible? It was the way nature worked, I was told. I shouldn't look at other guys and find attraction there. They wouldn't let me say that I was homosexual, because I had never been with a girl before... and that was... fair.

"Come on, Rina. Hurry up and get dressed, and maybe we can all walk down to the dining room together!" I knew how he hated to be alone. And I hated leaving him without someone to take care of him. Even if I just needed to leave the room to talk to a nurse, or my psychaitrist. I think, in a way, Karina reminded me of Eden, though they bore no real resemblence, physically or otherwise. Eden had been like me, a pretty little thing, feminine and delicate — golden blonde hair and large green eyes. He had always been a little rougher and much more confident than I was, so he often bore bruises from business, along with the occassional cut, scrape, ceaselessly bleeding gash... but he always laughed it off. Somewhere in my mind it occurred to me that Eden and Karina were nothing alike, and there was no actual way to link the two; but it worked in my mind. Maybe it was their closeness with me; the way I cradled them to my heart emotionally, but would never tell them. For Karina, I wanted to sing, even though the thought of music — especially my own — made my head spin; but I had done it for Eden once. He was the only reason I could keep performing. On stage and off. I shook that thought from my head; I usually banished anything that made me think too much because it made my head hurt, and pain was just something I didn't feel anymore. Not infront of my friends, and especially not infront of Karina. "You think the others will be happy to see cake for breakfast? Especially if it's mango? Actually... I wonder if anyone remembered."

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There was a sort of clicking in my mind as names were dropped; each finding its designated spot in my brain. They had no names and no clear label dictating what they meant or why each name went there - it was just how my brain worked. It had its own mechanisms that made it tick and whirl and shift. Like an automatic filing machine that just put things where it wanted when it wanted but it made sense. I could make sense of where they went I just didn't know the titles or places of where they went exactly. I can understand my own brain but at the same time there are things that it does that make me question my own sanity. Did I have control over my brain? Or did it have control over me? It made me wonder if it was me who was thinking or if it was my brain that made me think I thought for myself. It was like inception and I was starting to give myself a headache and I could barely hear anything Savannah was saying anymore. So I shut down my thoughts and got out of my bed and set the tablet down.

Getting dressed was something important that needed to be done because walking around in nothing but a pair of shorts wasn't something that should be done often. I didn't even want to think about what would happen if I did. Silus. Yes. Silus would happen. My mind blocked off any further thoughts that would lead into that direction because it knew just as much as I knew that the gutter was a bad place. Sabrina had always tried to get me to go along with her 'games' but it ended every time with me crying and her shoving me out because I was a useless wimp. Maybe it was because I couldn't see myself with a woman or because each time I saw her I imagined her with that knife glinting so innocently in her hand. It caused shivers to pass down my spine and I prayed that Savannah wouldn't pay to much attention me.

Because I still had those faint scars from when Sabrina got angry. I still had the wounds from a time that I would rather forget about. Ugly and noticeable practically calling on all attention and making me look a lot uglier than I already was. Feminine and scarred; it didn't get much worse in my eyes. A lot of things couldn't get any worse in my eyes because they were all already bad enough as it was.

I pulled on the shirt Savannah had selected and dug through the drawer to find a pair of jeans that would work with the shirt. Not too dark but not too light and it had to be the right shade of blue or the whole thing would go wrong. Because I was so damaged I had to tug away the curiosity by looking good in my clothing - by distracting them with what I wore. It was final that I decided on a lighter blue pair of jeans that looked darker in some places from use and wear. I managed to switch from my shorts into them in a minimal amount of time.

The tablet safely in my hand I looked at Savannah and became curious at the mention of mango cake again. Cake.... Didn't cake normally mean celebration or something happy? Was it a good day for Savannah? His birthday maybe? Or the day he first did something? What were they to remember? I wanted to know and as I walked to the door I typed out my question in big bold letters so he could still see.

"Why is today special to you? I don't want to forget."

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Most recent OOC posts in A Sad Day for Happiness

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Oh my god, Anah. That last line made me laugh so hard. Me and my brother were watching that music video for Fireworks, and I convinced him fireworks actually come out of people's chests. It was priceless. He was like, "But how does it happen? Do emotions trigger it or something?" Ah, I almost died laughing.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

I didn't expect it to come out so hardcore and completely sexual but that's Karina in his darkest moments. He isn't weak or a damsel in distress. He's a pretty powerful little guy. A little guy with too much on his mind.

I guess it's a good thing he can't speak because that line would've become true.

I LOVE YOU ALL!

*Fireworks from boobs like Katy Perry but better cause they are shaped like hearts*

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

First off: "I wish I could say something back but the only things that would probably tumble through my lips would be words that would set the world on fire and make porn stars look like hard core Christians."

Oh my GOD!! Anah, your a fucking genius. I absolutely, positively, dhlfhdlgfdily, LOVED that line! Ohmgeee. You made my day, love. -glomps -

Okay, so what did I do for Valentines day..? Um. Well, nothing. Sadly. I mean, school was pretty awesome. I got candy from my friends. :D Highlight of the day.
Um, I got asked out by this kid in one of my classes named Alex. He's a big ball of fun. (Sarcasm.) He reminds me of an overly lazy panda bear who doesn't have the guts to talk to me face to face, only facebook. Woo. The kids a party.

And hmm.. Right now, im trying to reply back to all my roleplays, and trying to ignore the heat thats really messing my hair up and making me look like a grimlin just exstinguished from being on fire.

I LOVE YOU ALL. (Especially Yoni. You big bundle of LOVE! - hugs - )

P.S. I love you all equally. My darlings. - smooch smooch smooch -

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Totally working.

I'm sitting around at home wishing that I wasn't bored out of my mind. I also happen to be reminiscing on the haircut I got in grade eight thanks to some prep and her clones, and the subsequent dance it got me from the hottest guy in school because he felt bad for what they did to me.

I want cake and cookies and whipped cream....

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Random conversation starter working.

I am going over to my friend Chris' house and sitting around eating chocolate cake and cookies and whipped cream. It'll be one sexy party that no one is invited to. Haha.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Random conversation starter! Go!

What are you all doing for Valentine's Day? My girlfriend and I are going to another school to be Valentine's wizards, which consists of running around with wands and screaming "LUHHHHHHH" at people~ :D

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Sure. Let's aaalllll bring back THAT memory. I loved the Amanda Show... until people started singing the damned theme song as I walked down the halls at school! Frustrating feeling, that. I was MUCH too small to do anything about it. Or so I thought. I bit a kid and got suspended for three days because of it. It was my first suspension ever.... -Sighs wistfully-

@Juicey: What! You went sledding without me? Poo. AND you hurt yourself. Double no-no. Bad Juice Box. Bad. Go sit in your sorner and think about what you've done. -crosses arms and looks away-

...
...
...

Okay, I forgive you! You can come off time-out now! -snuggleglomps and kisses head- Hope it doesn't hurt too much. Them sleddin' accidents are no joke. I've racked up a whole novel full of 'em. It's... fun.

Honey: Heh heh. Meesa. Misa. Misa-Misa. Misa no Uta.

Ki o tsukete Kami-sama wa miteru

Kurai yomichi wa te wo tsunaide kudasai
Hitori de tooku ni demo
Itsumo mitsuke dashite kureru

Shitteru koto wa
Zenbu oshiete kureru
Watashi ga oboetenakutemo
Nando demo oshiete kureru

Demo zenbu wakatte shimattara
Dou sureba ii no

Because I can. But you started it, so remember that. Naw, but they should totally bring back Johnny Bravo. And Sailor Moon.... Princess Sisi.... MewMew Powers. Magical DoReMi. I'm probably failing to make sense right now. ALL THAT! They should put reruns of All That on again. That was the best! SUGAR AND COFFEE~!

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Upfallen: You do you do! -huggles-

I pretty much watched the Amanda Show all the time. And thought it was hilarious. I laughed like: HAW HAW HAW, too. I don't know. I've been looking back on old cartoons lately and I don't understand why they were taken down. I mean, really. Johnny Bravo was a riot.

Juicey: -snuggles- I hate working, and I also hate children. I kind of pretend I like children in front of parents so they don't judge me. I mean, really. I've tried liking them and I just can't see past them being spoiled brats, screaming and crying and flailing their arms in quiet places like Chapters. I'M TRYING TO READ MY DAMN BOOK. I don't care if their cute. Anyhow. Melyssa. Yes, it's totally unlike me. Most people just call me Meesa or Lake, since Melyssa is too long or something. Thanks! I'm feeling better now. It just sucks when I'm on my knees trying to clean someones' room and my nose is like a faucet. Throwing up is the worse than anything I can think of. Ow, sled accident. Did you have a concussion? It sure sounds like it. Woman, be careful! Next time, I'll be there to cushion your head. I LOVE YOU AND YOUR AWESOMENESS. Now, it's not even Sunday, but it's Monday. Which means I work tomorrow. Monday's been getting pretty attractive these days, since she's my day off. Hoo-yah. Eff you, Tuesday. Your ugly and second.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

THE AMANDA SHOW. MY GOODNESS. I REMEMBER THAT. MAW HAW.

*random crazy ranting*

I miss that show. Why isn't TV that awesome anymore?

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Yoni; Aw. Poor Yonibaby. - hugs - I hate working, and I hate children. But that has nothing to do with anything, but I like your name. Melissa. It sounds all business-like. I hope you get better, though. :( Being sick is a pain in the ass. Especially when you feel like your about to throw up..blehk. I went sledding with my friend friday, and I hit my head against a tree, (But I didn't even feel it! ) And my friend comes running down, yelling if im okay. I was like, ' Why wouldn't I be? ' And then she told me she saw me hit my head against a tree trunk. And I told her no, she thought she did. It turns out that I did hit my head though, and when we went back inside, thats when I felt it. My vision got all blotchy and I couldn't even stand without feeling as if I was going to puke, so I had to have my dad pick me up. There was this buzz in my ear, and I couldn't hear right for the rest of the day. It frikkin' sucked. BUT ANYWAYS, back to the subject, I LOVE YOU TOO. - huggles back - Its not friday anymore, though. - cries - It's sunday, the second ugliest day of the week. Monday gets the award of being the 1# though. Shes pretty ugly. Okay, im done talking.

EyesofSloth: It's okay. :o I get writer's block all the time.


Upfallen: Actually, I only know two people named Sarah. I know like, five people named Jessica though.( One of them is a guy [ Jesse]) Which stinks, because Jessica is a really popular name, and so un-creative. I swear, that last generation had to be a gigantic party pooper.

Darling: Tsk Tsk tsk. Where have you been? - glomps - AMANDA! Like from that Amanda Show. ( Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, SHOWWWW~ ) I use to watch it when I was a kid. It's real old, and I cant even believe I remember it.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Lawlz, thanks Yonbi. I do make an adorable avatar, don't I? xP

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Sorry, everyone. I am just unable to write, anything at all. I feel that my brain has turned into a chessboard. I'll post as soon as I get out of my chessboard state...

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Maginekun: AMAAAAAANDAAAA~ I actually like that name, too. And I like Sarah, too. I like feminine names. And ones that can't be butchered by French people. I know, 'Melissa' can be pronounced MEH LEE SAWH, but it doesn't sound pretty, awesome, or cool. It sounds retarded. My parents should've thought about that.

Upfallen: a) Your avatar is really adorable. b) Sarah is a capital name! Though, it is kinda popular. Just start writing it Sarrah. BAM. It's lovely.

Juicey: I love love love love you. No problem. Real life can be a pain. I just started my new job as a Housekeeper, and I work everyday. Thankfully, I get off early, but most of the time I head home and pass out. And now I'm sick. I'm gonna try to post a bunch tonight but we'll see what I can get done. I'll post Fanta and Silus' profiles on Lozey's forum, too. IT'S FRIDAAAAAY. Which means nothing to me now 'cause I still work tomorrow. Oh noes. -huggles-

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

:O I wish my name was twinkle-toes or lala.. Or maybe Poe.
Haha, Im kidding. Telly Tubbies are cool and all, but I don't think I'd like to name myself Twinkle-toes. I think If I could, I'd name myself Ray. I love that name.

Everyone: (Mostly Yoni&Neko&Lozer) But anyway, just a heads up here, sorry if Im not replying back to all these roleplays. I have like no time, and a whole buncha stuff is going on right now. I FEEL SO BAD! The roleplays are being held up because of me. :( Im sorry guys. - hands muffins - Imma try and reply (Or catch up to most) tomorrow, because its FRIDAAAAY. - fist pump -

..I love my fridays.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Pffft, Amanda is exciting because she's my favorite Saw character. My actual name is way more boring. I mean really. Sarah. It's in the Bible, so it's all popular and ugh. Everyone is named Sarah. ;-;

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Haha, I beat everyone in the boringness of names. Mine is Amanda. That's an old lady name. I hate it. I want to change my name, but I don't think there's a point. I know that my favourite name now will probably be one of my least favourite in a few years. So, whatever.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

It's just a three letter name. Jia. Yeah, Jia...
*Lights shine, people clap*
I don't like this name... And most people I know that aren't Chinese, that I know pronounces it, weirdly... My name is mysterious, either. I would probably like to change my name to Aria, it's so pretty....
My mind is about to burst, so I may post, tomorrow.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

DAJDHALD! Mandarin Chinese! I wanna know. My names Melyssa. I'm so unmysterious.

Anyhow, I'm gonna head to bed and reply to all of the RP's tomorrow. My exam is eating my brain and I need to rest up. G'night folks!

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Of course churches are amazing! I mean they are so beautiful but I'm to lazy to even leave home.

I hate my name, very much. It sounds like house in Mandarin Chinese. (No wonder, why I am so lazy.). If I had to say a guy name that is the closest to mine it would be, Joe or Kai.
Crossdressing is awesome but I have no crossdressing clothing.

Re: [OOC] A Sad Day for Happiness

Wooo, my trip was amaaaazing. So many awesome peoplez!~

Are we talking about our names now? xD

I kinda hate my name. My guy name (Oliver) is so much better. Gotta love cross-dressing.

cron