I have to be honest with everyone – writing this sequel scares the hell out of me. So many people loved The Wall and since this is the follow up, MAN. I'm having anxiety over it something fierce. I want it to be good. Hell, I want it to be GREAT. I want to be proud of it. I'm just afraid it won't measure up. Besides, as I told I friend – I can write insanity. I know insanity. Recovery is foreign to me. But in saying this, I have a concept brewing.

I'm afraid this will turn into a bad remake of Girl, Interrupted.

I should shut up. Really.

God, I'm insane.

But with this story... Take it almost like an open notebook. It's going to be POV w/3rd person mingled in. It WILL be a mess to look at and will seem confusing, but look at who and what it's pertaining to – Insane Jude. Now that that's out of the way – 3 Cheers for Sweet Disclaimers!

I own nothing Instant Star. I do own, however, everything that isn't Instant Star related. (Figure it out!) I also own Tim Rozon and MAN... that kid has an appetite! Haha... "Bri, you're so dirty."

Yes... Yes, I am.

Actually, I'm still wondering if he'd commit to me for $20. HA!

PS: This chapter will be hell, but there are patterns. Patterns make me happy.

PSS: After writing this, I'm happy. I'm going to have fun.

Chapter 1 / I Would Dial the Numbers

It's blue. Everything is blue. All I see for miles in this place is blue. Blue walls, blue nurse uniforms, blue, blue, FUCKING blue. Except for this one girl's room; she's afraid of blue. Her room is green. She likes green. It's a pretty green. I want her room, dammit. I want to be her; afraid of blue, but all I can fear is this place and the solitude I'm confined in. I want to be her, with visitation rights and the promise that "one more week" will really set me free. If only time would hurry by, rush past me in a whirlwind I can't see, and allow me the freedom I so crave. The blue isn't so friendly when you stare at it for so long.

I've been here for a week, a long week. They won't let people visit me and for a week, seven days, too many hours and even more excruciating minutes and seconds, I've been alone. Alone to those obsessive things. They like me alone. They remind me constantly that it's the same. They bicker back and forth between apology and hatred. They hate me for being here. They apologize for bringing me here. I hear them dying. I hear their deathly screams as one more pill brings them closer to their timely demise. I laugh when I swallow that chalky, sunny yellow pill and hear them stirring loudly only to stun them back into their own darkness and shadows. I hear them choke on their words and the neuro-transmitted poisons I unleash in my defense.

My defenses have risen. They've taken me in and are protecting me from the walls, the nurses, those god-awful crazy people that close in around me.

"Oh my god! You're Jude Harrison! I'm Leslie!"

"Jude, it's time for group. Come join the circle."

"Hey, PBJ. Haha... Peanut Butter and Jelly. Psych Break Jude. Haha..."

"Sorry, no visitors for you this week. Starting Monday, though..."

"Hey Jude... I've never liked the Beatles. I've never liked that name."

"Why are you talking to yourself, hon? We can give you something to help."

"What are you doing here?"

I WISH I WAS DEAD. I WANT TO DIE. LEAVE ME. LET ME DIE.

You don't get it. You don't get it. You will never get any of it. There is nothing here that will save me. There is nothing here that will take me back. Tommy is gone. A whole week. A whole week without his face. I want to die. Let me die. My family is gone. My voice is gone. Everything has been yanked out from underneath me and I don't know how to get it back. "Take your meds, Jude." FUCK YOU! I will not. If I am to rot in this hell hole you call help, then I will go out in the best way I know how. I will not follow you like them. Like Bina or Leslie or Nova or Kaylin or that stupid skinny girl that no one will tell me her name. They follow you. I will not. I owe you nothing.

I hate you. I want you DEAD! You hear me? DIE.

The walls are so fucking blue. Can I paint them? Can I say that I'm afraid of all colors but black? Will you paint them black so that I can dwell in the darkness and all that you will see is my paling skin? Will you just kill me? You want to. KILL ME!

"Jude, I'll be here next week." Tommy traced his fingers along the length of her arm, stealing a kiss before turning to leave her prison.

"Tommy, wait! Please don't leave me here!" Sobs wracked her body, falling to her knees and praying to him. "Please don't go. I need you..."

"I'll come back, ok? I told you I would. I promise."

She stretched out her hands to him in silent desperation, the reality of her fate sealing in around her, choking the little bit of life she had out of her body.

"I love you... Don't go..."

"Next week. I love you, girl."

I was better in the country. I was better in my slice of insanity. I was better than this. I was better than all of this. I am better than YOU. You hear me? I am better than you. I am Jude fucking Harrison. I am better than you and this hospital and your patients and your medications and your doctors and your fucking blue walls!

I could do it, you know? If you push me, I'll do it. I'll go out like I'd planned. This time, I won't be crying because the last thing I'll remember is Tommy's scent or the way the sheet felt silky against my throat. I'll cry because I'm happy. Because I'm fucking ecstatic to be leaving this place.

He'll come for me... He'll come for me... He'll come for me...

FUCK YOU!

He'll come for me and there will be nothing you can do. You have no power. You have no control.

He'll come for me.