The Story Of The Mental:

Name: McCall, Raven Alexandria

Age: Thirteen years old

Gender: Female

Reason: Three Attempt Suicides

Stay: Two years

Name: McCall, Raven Alexandria

Age: Fifteen years old

Gender: Female

Check Out: Leave

Allie was different.

Her wearing black square glasses has changed to no glassed.

Her having ginger hair that went to her shoulder blades has changed to her having brown hair that went to her lower back.

Her having no bangs has changed to her having side bangs.

Her talking has changed to her being silent.

Her being an angel has changed to her being a darkened teenager.

Her being tan has changed to her being pale.

Everything has changed about her.

The first time she attempted suicide, it involved a bridge.

The second time she attempted suicide, it involved a knife.

The third time she attempted suicide, it involved pills.

Nothing helped her out.

She only fell in deeper.

So much deeper.

Afternoon.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Hours passed like seconds.

Maybe they didn't want her.

After all, nobody has ever wanted her.

A Fall Out Boy shirt had covered her belt, her wearing blue skinny jeans, the bottoms being hidden as Black All-Star Converse covered them. iPhone in one pocket, iPod in next pocket, her listening to Dancing Dead by Avenged Sevenfold.

"Everything is paid for tonight while at the party of the dead dancing in their graves. The drinks here are free, so relax. Enjoy the sight of all the dead dancing in their graves, and while the world that they built told 'em to change, told 'em to listen, they just kept it the same, and now that midnight has come, I'm in a room watching the dead dancing in their graves." Her voice was close to M. Shadows, the lead vocalist of the band, but if another person was to have an opinion, it might have been a too far from his voice.

"Beautiful voice." Looking up, she found someone looking at her; someone too familiar and then it came to her- Scott McCall, her older brother.

"Two years changes a person." Allie, which was sort for Alexandria, scanned over his body, not believing that he was her older brother, but it was the truth of a person being able to change.

"Everything is different now." Scott told her, watching as she tilted her head in confusion, not understanding what he was talking about.

"Everything." Sliding to the floor, she felt him sit next to her, her not believing that what he was telling her could be true.

"You remember what happens when someone says, 'Everything,' right?" Looking over to her, he watched as she slowly nodded her head, not wanting to hear him say the words again.

"It means that there is no leaving here. You're telling me that growing up outside this place isn't an option- that growing up means to die here." Pulling her knees to her chest, she wrapped her arms around her legs, setting her chin on her arms that crossed around her legs.

"Because nobody loves you anymore. What you did was stupid." Scott told her, not being gentle anymore as he began to yell at her for what she had tried to do.

"You are a disgrace to this family. Whenever some calls your name, we will always want you to die because of the embarrassment of having an attempt suicide victim in our family. Being the brother of a suicide failure is a disappointment. Maybe when you go for your four time, you'll actually succeed," Leaning down next to her ear, he whispered, "Everybody wants you to die."

Lifting her head out of her arms, she looked blankly in front of her as hateful words came out of her older brother's mouth.

Each one hitting her like a punch to the gut.

Each one hurting her.

Each one killing her.

"Allie," Scott's voice began to bring her back, her barely moving as he attempted to shake her from her dreams once more. "Allie."

"What?" Looking around, she discovered she was no longer in the mental institution, but in the backseat of a car, which she realized was her mother's.

"You were telling us what has changed about you when you suddenly stopped, looking out the window, and have continued to do the same for seven minutes." Scott was turned around in his seat, staring at her as she blinked her eyes, looking towards the window, only to look back at him.

"It was hard in there. You couldn't breath without someone watching over you. Nobody could breath in there. Half the time it felt like you were suffocating and the other half felt like emptiness. Sometimes you'd wonder if anyone wanted you, but you'd get these feelings and you'd know nobody did. Other times you'd feel like everyone cared about you, and you actually believe it until you realize that you were wrong. Most of the time you feel like you are stuck in a hole and you'll never get out. Eventually you do, and that's when you find out the most obvious feeling- pain. It felt like everyone was blaming you for every mistake you did. It feels like you are falling," Her voice muted, her looking down at her converse before bringing her head back up, whispering, "And you'll never reach the ground."

"How did you do in there?" Melissa, her mother- their mother, questioned, listening to the pain in her daughter's voice.

"When I was in there, it felt like death. Cold, bitter, death, but the pain brought me back to life. There was never an end." A tear slipped down her cheek, her wiping it away before anyone could see it, but she never realized that Scott had watched it drop across her face, it hit her hand.

She never realized that every single day of the two years she had been put away, Scott had stayed outside of the mental institution, listening to her crying herself to sleep some nights, the other nights her not sleeping at all, but every night her heartbeat never was steady.

It was always increasing speed.

Scott was always there.

Watching.

Listening.

Waiting.

He knew everything that happened with Allie.

Well, almost everything.

With her head against the window, she felt the car stop as she looked over to her house.

Her home.

Opening her car door, she was the first to step out as she scanned over the house, seeing every detail the same, possibly being a little cleaner, but everything seemed the same.

The energy she had was the same.

"How are you feeling?" Scott asked as he wrapped his arm around her waist, her leaning her head on his shoulder, sighing.

"Nothing's changed." She whispered, not knowing what he was thinking as he wanted to tell her everything has changed.

Everything.

"Let me bring you to your room," Whispering into her ear, making sure he was close to her as they started walking, he softly whispered, his breath hitting her ear, "That hasn't changed."

"It shouldn't." She told him as he let off a small laugh, him walking with her inside the house as Melissa followed behind, smiling as her two children were getting along.

A happy memory.

"You have to meet my friends if you want to know me." Scott told her as they headed up the stairs, her leaning against him as they reached the hallway.

"Other than Stiles?" Allie asked, him letting out a sound that was almost like him taking it as an offence, but he knew that it was true.

At least it was two years ago.

"Here is your room." Walking over to her room, he opened to door to show a room, the walls painted a sky blue as the walls were filled with pictures of herself, her and her older brother, her friend, her and her friends, her and her mother, the whole family, and a few of her before she was sent away.

The dressers were pushed together between the closet and the window, them fitting nicely as picture frames sat on top of the dressers along with a few small boxes. Her window had a seat that opened if you took off the pillows and folded blanket, revealing a stack of books that couldn't fit on the bookcases. Four small bookcases were set up between the closet and the door, them being filled with loads of books that she had collected since she was born.

A beanbag was next to a small table, a TV sitting on a table in the corner of the room, the opposite corner having an easel set up with the length of the sketch book sitting on the easel being a foot and a half, the width being a foot. Scattered around the floor next to the easel was markers, paint, brushes, crayons, pencils, erasers, and sharpeners. White curtains covered the two windows that were next to her bed, which was pushed against the wall. Her other window was covered with a white curtain as well, it draping over the windowsill as the other curtains were with the other windows. Mountains of pillows were on her bed, four layers of blankets accompanying the pillows.

"Hasn't changed." She whispered before turning to Scott who was looking over her room, him not stepping in it since the day she was sent to the mental institution.

"No, it hasn't." He sounded breathless only to have Allie turn to him, walk over to him, and wrap her arms around his stomach, her head buried in his chest.

Letting go of him, she watched as he took another glance around the room before smiling to Allie, turning to leave, and shutting the door on his way out.

Sighing, she walked over to her bed, kicked off her shoes and socks, and landed on the bed in exhaustion, missing the comfort it had brought her. Turning over, she looked at the ceiling as she rolled over, her instantly falling asleep.

To be honest, it was the best sleep in two years.

She had missed sleeping the way she was at that moment.

She had missed everything.

Pushing herself to the edge of the bed, she attempted to open her eyes once again as she saw the darkness, understanding it was the middle of the night. Making her way over to the door, she felt around for the light switch, her finding it as it flickered on to reveal a lightened room. Walking over to her bookcases, she looked around for a book, finding it on the second shelf of the second bookcase, in between two Harry Potter books that she had spent hours reading. Opening the book, the pages were empty, her finding a picture in the middle of the book that was taped with the words, "Never to be forgotten," written across the top in neat cursive.

Looking, she saw written under the photo was, "Alexandria and Scott McCall, 1990."

She was two years old and Scott was four years old, both of them smiling as they were holding hands, her leaning on his shoulder.

She missed those times.

Sighing, she flipped the book closed, shoving it back between the two Harry Potter books before turning around, walking over to the light switch. As she was about to turn it off, she heard something fall across the hall, her opening her door to hear whispering in Scott's room. Looking under the door, she noticed the light flicker on, two shadows casting from under the door.

"Be quiet. My sister's sleeping." Scott whispered in a hushed voice as she pressed her ear against the door, listening to their conversation.

"Wait, your sister's home?" The voice belonged to Stiles, her knowing his voice from anywhere.

"Just came home yesterday night." Before they could continue on with their conversation, she raised her hand, making it into a fist, knocking on the door.

"You probably woke her up, Stiles." Scott mumbled as the door opened, showing him standing at the door with Stiles behind him.

"Was I interrupting something?" She looked from Scott to Stiles, neither of them answering the question until one of them came back to reality.

"Not anything important." Scott told her, looking into her eyes as she looked back into his, their eyes forming a deeper brown.

For a moment she thought she saw his eyes flash red.

"Are you wear contacts or something?" She wanted to make sure that it wasn't her seeing things, which the expression caught of his face told her differently.

"Why would I wear contacts? I don't where glasses." She saw Stiles trying to get a better view of her, which she had moved closer to the door frame, leaning against it.

"It probably wasn't anything. I'm going back to sleep." Pulling herself from his door, she felt a hand wrap around her arm, pulling her back.

"What did you see?" Scott ordered for her to tell him, her not understanding why it was important if her question was answered.

"Your eyes were red for a second. It wasn't anything, Scott." Turning her head back, she heard them shuffling behind her, her about to close her door when she heard a whisper.

"Since when did your sister become that hot?" Stiles had asked Scott, her hearing him punch Stiles for compliment, leaving Allie to smirk at what had happened.

Blinking a few times, she looked around the room to discover what she was seeing was true. She sun shined down on her face as she pushed herself off the bed, making her way to the door. Pulling it open, she saw that Scott had went to school, her stay home for the month or so to let her start to adjust about her life becoming the way it was before.

It would never be the same.

Never.

Going down the stairs, she had seen her mother had went to work, her doing the day shifts, possibly squeezing in some night shifts if the money was needed.

And it usually was.

Deciding to see what she had missed, she went back to her room to change into a pair of black skinny jeans, a layered white top, a black leather jacket that hid her arms, and her black All-Star converse.

She cherished those shoes.

Slipping her iPhone and iPod in her pocket, she opened the door, leaving the house to discover what was new in Beacon Hills.

What happened in two years.

Walking into town, she saw that everything was almost the same, a few new stores and a few old stores, but almost everything staying the same. After she had wandered for more than a hour, she found herself in the middle of the woods, her looking around.

She couldn't remember how she had gotten there.

Or why.

Sighing, started to walk, wanting to find a path as she weaved through the trees, trying to find somewhere that she could be. After twenty minutes of walking around, a burnt house came into view, her walking towards it, only to be tackled to the ground. Groaning in pain, she went to stand up, only for her to be pushed back down to the ground by someone's boot. Sighing, she looked up at who was above her, her not noticing who it was, leading her to think they must have showed up around the two years she was in the mental institution.

"Who are you?" The man ordered as she began to feel his weight crush on her lungs, her unable to move her arms as he did so.

"When you tell me who you are, I'll tell you who I am." She attempted to say, her struggling with talking only for him to apply more pressure with his boot.

"Derek Hale. Who are you?" There.

She was handed a name.

Derek Hale.

Name to name base.

"Allie McCall." Just as she thought she'd pass out, he lifted his boot from her chest, putting out a hand for her to take, which she refused to do so.

"You tackle me to know my name?" She questioned once she was on her feet, dusting off her shirt and leather jacket before turning to Derek.

"If it makes it sound less pathetic, sure." Derek told her, about to walk away when he stopped, turning around to look at Allie.

"What?" Allie asked him, clearly upset at what he had done, which nobody would be happy about, unless it was there friend or somebody they knew.

"You look like somebody I used to know." Derek replied, him turning around as he started walking, only for her to become curious.

"Who do I look like?" She shouted to him, watching as he stopped, looking back to her with no emotion on his face.

"Scott McCall." He told her before turning back around, continuing as she was left where she was standing, wondering how they knew each other.

In her room, she listened to footsteps coming up the stairs, her older brother's door open, and then her's open, him showing in the doorway.

"Met one of your friends today." She told him as he walked over, standing her as she held a picture of him, their mother, and her.

"Who'd you meet?" Scott asked as he watched her set the picture frame back on her dresser, her brushing a strand of hair from her eyes.

"Derek Hale." She felt his hand on her arm, him turning her arm to face him, his other hand gripping her other arm.

"Did he hurt you?" Scott began to check over her, making sure she had no injuries that he could see on her at the moment.

He wondered if any were under her clothes.

"Other than tackling me in the woods and bruising my ribs, he didn't hurt me." She was about to turn back around when she felt him hold onto her, firmly.

"You went in the woods?" Scott asked, surprised of what she had done.

"I wanted to see what changed around here, and then the next thing I knew, I was in the woods." She told him, staring into his eyes as he stared back.

"Promise me you'll never talk to him." Scott said, loosening his grip on her as she looked at the way he was holding her.

"Why?" She asked, his voice becoming angrier as he grew frustrated, shaking her a little as he continued with what he was saying.

"Promise me you will never talk to him, Alexandria." Using her full name meant something was happening, but she didn't want to cut in.

At least not at the moment.

She would sooner or later.

"I promise. Now can you stop hurting me?" She motioned to his hands, him letting go as she took off her leather jacket, seeing two bruised hand prints on her arms, looking up towards Scott.

"I'm sorry," Backing out, he turned around, stopping at the door to turn around, whispering, "I'm so sorry," before turning back around, shutting the door behind him.

Forgetting about the strange behavior, she walked over to her bed, pulling the covers on her as she attempted to fall back asleep.