I'm not crazy

I'm just a little unwell

I know, right now you can't tell

That's basically what I'm thinking. I, as in Riku.

Don't remember me? Well to jog your memory a little, I'm the sexy silver haired guy with bulging muscles. I see you ahhing with realization now.

At the moment, I'm in the waiting room of a psychiatrist. I'm not crazy, for the last time! Like I said before, I'm just a little unwell. I mean, who wouldn't be, after being put in charge of a couple of shadows with no hearts.

That stupid, know-it-all Sora booked me in here. Said I needed therapy to return to my normal self. Well excuse me, but I am my normal self!

The only good thing about seeing a shrink is that Kairi (sweet, sweet Kairi) bathes me with sympathy. She talks gently to me and smiles her joyous smile. I guess that kinda makes up for the humiliation.

The psychiatrist calls me into his office. "Riku, how are you today?" he asks with a fake casualness. I shrug.

"We'll start with the usual," he tells me. So he shuffles through his drawers and soon seats himself on his psychiatrist chair. I lie down, and he begins to hold up flashcards with black blobs splashed onto them.

"What's this Riku?" he asks, treating me as if I were in kindergarten. "Duck," I reply.

"Very good. What's this Riku?" he asks again, as he holds up another flashcard. "Giraffe," I answer. And so on.

That's what my life is like right now. Confined in a psychiatrist's room for 3 hrs a day then locked away into the Destiny Islands Prison, because I'm too dangerous. I guess another good thing about going to the shrink, is that Sora foots the bill. 400 munnies per hour. Pretty hefty, I hear you coo. But then Sora's rich now, so it doesn't bother him one bit. He spends his days holding seminars and going on promotional tours, just because of his Keyblade master status. On a recent poll, he was voted the universe's most loved man; I was voted the most hated.

As I lay on my hard bed, I hear doors clang in the corridor. The clip clop of footsteps become louder and louder and suddenly come to a halt outside my cell.

"Kairi?" I call expectantly, and sit up.

"No, Sora.' I slump back down.

"How are you feeling?" he asks.

"How would you feel if you were stuck in jail?' I question. "Get me outta here Sora."

"Sorry Riku, you know what it's like," he replies. "But I've heard they've invented a couple of pills that could help you get better."

"I'm already taking Prozac," I blurt out.

"They say these are even more effective," he answers. "I'll get you some tomorrow." And with that he ambles away.

He returns the next day with the goods. He holds out a yellow bottle and hands it to me. I uncap it with glee and take out two pink pills.

"You take two daily," he instructs. "I'll see how you're faring tomorrow."

So that night I take the pills and the next morning I feel a sudden change. I can think better, see better and most of all, I feel better. As the days pass, the happier I am. So I call Sora from the prison telephone to thank him.

"Thanks Sora," I greet. "Your pills worked wonders, I've honestly recovered."

He mumbles a typical, 'that's great'.

"So can you get me out of here?" I ask.

He utters a firm 'no' then hangs up.

The beep beep beep of the phone made me realize. No matter how much I try, they'll never let me out. I'll be a villain for the rest of my life. No second chances. And how did I end up here? All because of stupid little Sora.

So I plot and the next thing I know, I've devised a plan to escape and get my revenge on Sora, once and for all.