Warning: This fanfic will be mostly dark and contains mental illness and swearing. If this bothers you, then please don't read it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Carol/The Price of Salt, I don't own their characters and no money has been made from this.

Insane

Chapter One

'Dear Diary, or… book of thoughts? I still don't know what to call this, well, you. I guess. But then again, does it really matter? It's not like you could understand what I'm talking about, or even respond to it.'

I let out a deep sigh, but, of course, he didn't care about it. Ugh, I can still hear his annoying voice speaking these idiotic words to me „it will be a good exercise for you, Therese. Bla blah blah." But guess what, I hate it. And he knows that, of course he does. He knows everything. Well, nearly everything. He seeks to know everything. Everything about me. I'm not even sure why, well partly because it's kind of his job to know what's going on inside here but… I don't know what it is or why that is but I, I just, he seems a little extra curious about me than he feels about the others. Though who am I to tell the difference? It's not like I sit and hold hands with them all day long, talking about how shit our life's were and how misunderstood we all are and that all we need is a bit of love. Ha, yeah sure, as if that would make anything better. I risk a quick glance at my watch. 8:26 AM. Jesus Christ, still half an hour to go. Ugggh, this is just straight up torture! I close my eyes, already sensing the pounding headache that's about to come. Why do we have to have these appointments so early all the damn time? I don't even have a pulse before 11 AM.

Feeling a bit of hope, god only knows where that came from, I let out another over dramatic sigh.

„Therese, come on. You can do this. Keep writing."

Looking up from the book I gave him my best -I'd rather jump off a cliff than doing this useless piece of crap, thank you- gaze but of course, he didn't care, again.

„I don't even know what to write about."

„Well, you could introduce yourself, for a start."

I raised my eyebrows at this and looked at him as if he was crazy. But, guess what, he, did, not, c a r e. Damn you, you foggy nut. Knowing there was simply no way out of this, other than simply walking out the door, which was so not appreciated the last time I did it, I slowly started writing again.

'Dear Diar-rhea,

I'm Therese. Therese Belivet. I'm'

I paused for a moment.

'Insane.'

Letting my fingertips slowly rub my forehead in a soothing rhythm, I closed my eyes and quickly calculated the hours I had to kill 'till lunch time. God, I hope they don't serve the mud again that they call chocolate pudding. Why does everyone love that anyways? I mean, I like chocolate, but there's just too much of it in chocolate pudding, well in the real ones of course, not in these pud dè mud ones they serve around here. At least the stupid session was finally over. I surely wouldn't have survived another minute in there.

A quiet whine pulled me abruptly out of my thoughts. It came from the right, it was close and then all of the sudden I felt something wet touch my other hand, which had been lazily dangling over the edge of the couch on which I was resting on.

Opening my eyes I couldn't help but smile the second I saw her cute fluffy face. It only widened when she began to pant and waggle her tail in excitement, only because I had been giving her attention. "What did we do to deserve dogs?" I asked myself while scratching that sweet spot behind her right ear. "Nothing, we don't deserve them." was the quick answer I got back from myself as I watched her rolling herself onto her back, begging me for belly rubs. "You are the only truly good soul in here, my girl."

Sometimes I think about what it must be like to be her. Would it be easier? I mean, of course it would be, she's just a dog that lays around all day, waiting for her daily meals and napping like 30 times a day, having no responsibilities whatsoever.

That's what everyone thinks, isn't it? But how would we know? How could we truly know what it is like to be a dog, when we've never been a dog? But I guess that's just what human brains do, wondering what it's like to be someone else. Making some room on the couch I let Koda settle down beside me. She truly was the most beautiful dog I had ever seen in my entire life. She's a pure Golden Retriever and had just turned 2 years old last Sunday. Her name isn't actually Koda though, it's Lizzy. To me, she doesn't look like a Lizzy at all. To me, she's Koda. Though then again, sometimes I call her Bubble or Lady or Kayla or something else. But never Lizzy. That name just didn't fit her, it seemed wrong. I don't know, it's just hard to decide a name for someone who's important to you. One day you like this name for them and then the next day you wish you had named them something else. But Koda doesn't really care what I call her fluffy butt. I grin down at her, she just wants to give her tiny little heart, full of love, to me.

I looked outside the nearby window. It was still very early. The weather outside wasn't the best one could imagine. In fact, it was cold and the sun was barely to be seen because of all the gray rain clouds that seemed to inhale every bit of sunlight that tried to enlighten the day. Morning hours were never something I was afraid of missing. I hate the morning hours. Or rather anytime between 5AM and 3PM. To everyone's surprise, it's not because I hate getting up early, which I totally hate, but that's not it. It's actually much simpler than that and probably very unkind, to say the least. I simply hate it because to me, it looks rather ugly. That's it. Now don't get me wrong, it does have it's moments sometimes, but usually, it doesn't. The afternoon hours are just so much more appealing. To me they feel like a happy end and also a new beginning of something wonderful. They also give me a feeling of safety. Probably because most people are done with work by then and get home to their own lives, which means no one's gonna fuck up mine, for the rest of the day at least. I close my eyes again, trying to get some more precious rest.

It didn't take long until I smelled that particular perfume again. Speaking of people getting home to their own lives; this one doesn't seem to have one. Or at least not one she wished to return to. She was here all the time and she wasn't even one of us. No, she was one of them. She was playing on their team, which meant I had to be careful around her. I guess it's ridiculous how I see things like these but then again, to me it had always been quite clear. To any other person, they are the good ones, the noble doctors, the heroes that give their everyday life to help us, the crazy ones. But to me, they seem more like hawks and we are their prey. They study us, analyze every single one of our moves, the way we react to certain situations or words, the way we speak, the way we dress, the way we think. Everything. And in return, we learn absolutely nothing about them. It's a one-way relationship. They do always say they care about you. But is it really you they care about? Or is it more the own guilt that comes up when one see's a hurt animal and then simply continues walking as if they had never seen them at all? In the end, what they truly care about, is the money they get. That's for sure. I don't trust them and they know it.

But this one was… different, somehow. She hadn't been here for long, only a couple of weeks but nonetheless, there was something unusual about her, something… almost special. She's never spoken a word to me, nor has she ever been any closer to me than on a 5-meter distance. However, I often catch her staring at me out of the corner of my eye. Almost as if I was some kind of mysterious book that she couldn't quite decipher yet. Opening my eyes slowly I noticed that little Koda had long ago fallen asleep and was now snoring quietly. I've been in thought for so long I had completely forgotten the time. I gave Koda one last scratch behind her ear and then carefully untangled myself to get up and go to my room in order to get ready for lunch. As I made my way over to the stairs, I couldn't help but feel someone's eyes on me.

End Chapter One

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