It's not real, that's what they keep telling her. The consequences are real though, and those are what haunt her most. Capgras Delusion is what they called it back when she was diagnosed a few months ago. It feels like she's stuck in that movie, The Invasion of the Body Snatchers. She's been to this hospital before. Same room, same reason. It was her family who made her come the first time. They were terrified. Back then, she'd merely been saying crazy things. A week after her release she started doing them.

Eponine sighs and turns over onto her stomach, pressing her face into the stained pillow. She didn't want to hurt anyone. Her sister is in another hospital with three stab wounds and Eponine is here, swallowing a handful of pills every morning to keep the demons at bay. She still isn't convinced that it was her sister she stabbed. Azelma's eyes were wrong. She'd been replaced. No one believes things like that can happen though, so the court sentenced her with life imprisonment to this institution.

Earlier that day they'd given her the mandatory tour. She already knew where was everything from her previous stay, from the cobwebs that littered the ceiling to the stains that marked the awful orange carpet. It was the same as last time. So she watched the newbies instead. Trying to figure out what was wrong with them; if they could be of any use to her in the future. If she played her cards right, parole or escape might be in the stars. There was a small boy, a tall man, and a skinny girl. The boy blinked too often, the man kept wringing his hands, and the girl sucked on her limp hair. They were pathetic. None of them would be able to help her get seconds at dinner, muchless escape the institute.

She sits up to the noise of her bedroom door opening. The skinny girl from the tour steps in. "I'm your new roommate?" Eponine nods. She should have expected that she wouldn't be living alone, extra bed in the room and all. "My name's Cosette," the girl extends her hand. Eponine takes it reluctantly.

"Eponine."

"So, what's wrong with you?"

Eponine draws her hand back. "Excuse me?"

"I get visions from God. Sometimes the angels use me as a vessel. The doctors said it was Multiple Personality Disorder, but they're heathens and are going to Hell, so we shouldn't really trust what they say, should we?"

"Um," Eponine edges out of the room. What a freak! She isn't really one for sharing. "I've got to go do something."

The girl nods, oblivious to Eponine's distress at her demeanor. "Alrighty, see you at dinner then!"

Eponine shuts the door quickly and jogs down the hallway. Why would they room her with a girl like that, of all people! She tries to imagine what Cosette might have done to get herself locked away. Arson probably. Religious fanatics are always burning things down. She hopes they wouldn't be together for life. She doesn't want to wake up one night, set aflame.

She heads down the stairwell, stepping on the sides of the wooden steps so that they won't creak so terribly. The boys are housed in the same wing, but on the second floor. The two genders aren't technically supposed to mix, but Eponine can pass as a boy easily enough. All she has to do is hunch her shoulders to hide her chest; the orderlies never look twice. The last time she was here, she'd made friends with a depressed drug addict named Grantaire. She hopes he's still here; she needs someone to talk to. Last time she saw him he was in a real bad way. He might not have made it the weeks she was away.

She punches in the code to the second floor corridor, praying that they haven't changed it in her short absence. The light changes to green and there's a soft click of the door unlocking. She opens it, peering around the corner to make sure no one is on the other side of it. The coast is clear. She moves her hair to cover her face and pulls her pants down a little so that the hang like a boy's. A few other crazies pass her but they're too involved with each other to notice that she doesn't belong.

Grantaire's room is the second on the left, and still is according to the chalk board with his schedule posted just outside. He's at therapeutic painting right now. He hates arts and crafts, so he'll probably get sent back early for disorderly conduct. She tries his door, and finds it unlocked. Strange. He was always so concerned about people going through his stuff. He filched a master key and was always very careful about using it so that the other patients couldn't sneak in and steal anything. She hesitates for a moment but goes in anyway and stretches out on his bed. It doesn't smell great, but it's familiar and that's what she needs right now.

Her family has disowned her. This is her life. She feels sick to her stomach about what's happened and what she's done. All she wants is to go home, but it's never going to happen. Even if she did go home, her sister wouldn't be there, and that's what she's really missing. She chews her cheeks. Maybe someday she'll be able to convince them that she isn't nuts. She knows in her heart of hearts that she isn't. If only they could see Azelma's soulless eyes, they might believe her. She hates feeling so helpless. It doesn't suit her.

A/N Zmori. Go look her up. Send her a heartfelt message. She's my beta and I'd be lost without her grammatical guidance.