Welcome, faithful masses, slaves to my subconscious ramblings and all other forms of interested readers!
Musical Credit: "Secret Garden" by Gackt. I really do recommend listening to this song. It'll rock you so hard you'll have to nail your socks to your feet. Fo reals.
Dedications:
Burning Divinity: My editor, best friend, cosplay buddy and little sister. I know you love Roxas, so... this one's for you.
ChaosGarden: I know I promised to have updates on my other stuff but I was bunnied again and you know how that is. So here's some proof that I'm still writing, still alive, and still dedicated to . That's a plus ten in awesome!
Summary: When parents can't cope, the medication no longer works, not a single person in the world understands you and the thread of your sanity finally snaps, things can seem beyond hopeless. But it seems that fate has a knack for creating something beautiful from the ashes of the lives she torches.
(I'm gonna try to make this a one or two shot. I totally can't afford to be starting any new major projects. Please slap me if I try making this any longer!)
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The room was dark, the only light filtering in through the barred window and the crack under the door. Roxas didn't bother looking over his shoulder to see the door, checking the orange glow for any signs of staff. He was too busy craning his neck and using every ounce of force in his slender fingers to peak over the windowsill and out at the quiet night just beyond the glass. He saw only the tops of the lightposts in the parkinglot and a faint glimmer of stars.
Cursing his height (or lack thereof), Roxas stood just a little higher on his tiptoes. His efforts were rewarded with a fleeting glance at the blacktop and the starlight that danced along it's cracked surface before he fell with a loud thud, wedging himself between the bed and the wall. He held the side of his head as it began to sting, not for the pain, but for what was about to come through that door.
"4...3...2..." Roxas counted silently to himself. As if on cue, the large metal door on the other side of the room flew open as light poured in, blinding Roxas and making his roommate stir. He felt a bit bad for the kid with the blue hair who's name would be a mystery until morning. Looking up into the eyes of a livid staff member, he suddenly felt a whole lot worse for himself.
"What were you doing, RS?" the large man in scrubs demanded. Roxas balled his hands into fists and glared down at the tile beneath him, not taking the staff member's hand when it was offered.
"For the last god damn time, I'm a human being, not a set of initials!" he hissed.
"It makes for easy identification, we've been over this." said a female voice from behind the man in scrubs. Roxas glared up at the head nurse as she stepped into view with a shuffle of her athletic tennis shoes. Against the light coming from the door, she looked like some kind of hellish, middle aged angel.
"Now what were you trying to do?" she asked softly. Roxas looked away and up at his bed which was nothing more than a flimsy packing foam mattress on plywood supports and sheets with which you could remedy the worst itch by moving a few inches against the rough fibers.
"I wanted to see outside." Roxas sighed.
"You can see outside tomorrow." the nurse said, making Roxas glare at her.
"I've seen what you people call an 'outside'." he snarled. "A basketball court and patch of grass surrounded by a 20 ft wall."
"It's to ensure that no one leaves." the nurse was firm.
"Oh why would anyone want to leave this place?" Roxas chuckled sarcastically, sounding a tad bit insane. "This place is a five star fucking resort!"
"Will you be able to sleep the night through, Roxas?" asked the nurse, not paying any attention to the outbursts of the boy at her feet.
"I don't know." Roxas answered truthfully. He held out his arm with the soft underside exposed, pointing to the crook of it. "Gimme what you gave that other kid earlier." he said hopefully, painting a scowl across the faces of the assembled staff.
"That patient was experiencing a severe anxiety attack. We gave him a sedative that they usually only give to people who's schizophrenia is so progressed, they can no longer tell reality from fantasy." the nurse explained.
"But that kid wasn't a schizo." Roxas reasoned, looking between the darkened faces.
"We can't take chances, Roxas. Not here." the nurse said quietly, a grave undertone in her voice. "Now would you like an Ambien tablet?" she asked. Roxas wrinkled his nose and felt his innards twitch at the mention of the drug.
"God no." he groaned, pulling himself to his feet to collapse onto the pathetic excuse for a bed he was now confined to. "I actually want to wake up in the morning." he snapped from under the thin blanket he pulled over his head. The staff said nothing, leaving Roxas to wallow in his self-pity before he fell into a fitful sleep. That night when he dreamed, he was sitting on his roof back home with the stars close enough to touch.
X-x-X-x-X-x-X-x-X
The images of the beach began to fade from behind Roxas's eyes as he felt himself being flung headlong into waking. His eyes fluttered open, the edges of his vision still looking like a television channel with no signal. Something was off, though it took him a moment to realize what it was. Trying to shake the haze from his mind, he glanced down at his arm where there was a terrible tightness. A red strip of latex had been tied around his upper arm, making his fingers numb. That's when he felt it.
"Aaarrrggghh!" he cried, pulling his arm away from the sharp pain that bit at the soft pale flesh. "What are you doing?!" he screamed into the shocked face of a young nurse. She was holding a rather large needle in one hand and a tube with a rubber stopper in the other.
"I have to take a blood sample." she said, reaching for Roxas's arm. Roxas scrambled to sit up in bed, holding his arm to his chest as if it were made of pure gold, his eyes the size of dinner plates.
"Don't you come near me with that fuckin' thing!" his voice trembled as he fought to swallow the rising urge to jab that needle into the neck of the nurse and bolt.
"I have to take a blood sample." the nurse repeated, this time obviously irritated. She reached again for his arm when Roxas quite literally snapped at her like a starved dog, his gleaming white teeth clacking together a few centimeters from her well-manicured hands. Any other time, any other place, this would have sparked some kind of fear in the nurse, but there were worse things people did in places like this.
"Oh love of god, I know you're not a biter so just hold still and it'll be over soon." she groaned.
"You attacked me in my sleep." Roxas hissed, as if he'd just accused her of single-handedly killing off the world's population of adorable newborn kittens.
"Happens to everyone." said the blue-haired boy that had been asleep in the bed beside Roxas's the night before. He was stepping from the bathroom that was only large enough to house a toilet and ridiculously small shower and was running his fingers through matted hair, muttering to himself. The nurse at Roxas's side slumped as she eyed him with disappointment.
"You're back, Zexion?" she sighed. Roxas's roommate shrugged, leaving the room. Roxas bit his lip and winced as the nurse drove the needle into his arm, whimpering when it gave a tug below the flesh when she attached the vial. It was quickly filled and the needle removed. Roxas cradled his arm to his chest, scratching around the medical tape that was now securing a piece of gauze to the hole left by the needle. He only stared at the rough blue blankets pooled in his lap, feeling strangely violated.
"You need to head out to the seating area for vitals." the nurse informed him, stepping out of the room. Roxas watched her leave and fell back against the pillow that was about as fluffy and comfortable as his sketchpad. Glaring up at the ceiling, he muttered "I hate you." to whatever being he guessed to be watching him at that very moment.
53 hours earlier...
The walls of his home had never been so confining or shifty than when Roxas stumbled his way down the hall, stepping noisily into the kitchen. He reached for the phone, but succeeded only in knocking the thing off it's cradle. It clattered to the floor and the battery fell out the back. At the noise, a light went on in his parents' bedroom. "Fuck" Roxas thought to himself as he tried with clumsy fingers to reattach the battery.
"Roxas?" his mother's tired voice drifted into his ears but he ignored it as he tried without yield to get the battery back in. "Roxas what are you doing?" her words brought him to tears and the flowed down his face, blurring his vision even more. He felt his mother's cold digits wrap around his hand, tilting his face up, forcing him to meet her gaze. It was so hard to look into the eyes that were just like his own.
"Mama..." he choked on tears, letting the phone fall away as his mother pulled him upright, smoothing hair out of his face where it stuck in the film of sweat on his brow.
"Oh God...Roxas? Roxas! What happened, baby?" she sputtered, shaking her son gently. Roxas let his head roll around on his shoulders as he was being shaken, too ashamed to look straight at his mother.
"I took Sora's pills. All of them." He sobbed miserably into his own shoulder. He felt his mother's grip tighten as she called for his father.
"Call an ambulance! Call an ambulance! God, hurry!" she cried. "Oh Roxas baby, why?" she whispered miserably through tears.
"I'm so sorry, mom." Roxas managed a murmur before the dim kitchen went black and he could no longer feel his mother's hands pulling him to her chest.
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Do the world a favor and recommend me for permanent institutionalization, please.
Oh to hell with it. I really like the morbid stuff.
Anyway...
If you can't tell where Roxas is by now and why, then I guess you'll have to wait for the next chapter. Which will be coming soon, seeing as I am without the distractions of internet... yet again.
Damn this failing economy!
Comments?