Song recommendation-- fences by Paramore (it sort of fits this chapter)

Anyway.. Enjoy!

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Thump, thump, thump. The sound of my hearts steady pace filled my ears. My blood pounded through my veins so hard it hurt in my wrists and neck. The edges of my vision seemed to blur in and out of focus, shimmering at the edges then slowly going black, only to return to color again.

The walls of my prison were white hurting my eyes, whenever I actually chose to open them. I was laying on my back staring at the ceiling, my feet propped against the north wall of the small room. Outside I could hear two men squabbling. I could picture them, the crisp white shirts, pressed navy pants, and the heavy guns that they held. If I was able to look at them I would have seen their broad shoulders slumping from hours of standing in the same place. I would have seen the permanent creases in their sweaty brows from years of working in this hell. I would have been able to see the resentment in their eyes as they played the day they had agreed to work here over and over in their minds. They had been lied to told that it was a service to the city that they worked here, told that it was noble and brave. After years of actually working here they had learned that they had swallowed lies to begin with.

It made me smile, to think that even the people that had chosen to be here were unhappy. I was certainly unhappy, or I liked to think I was. To tell the truth I wasn't actually sure if I was unhappy or not. I wasn't even sure if I knew what unhappy was. I tried to observe the people around me, pick up on their emotions and compare my self to them, and see if any of them matched up. The problem with this method was that when I was around them they acted different so I was never really able to tell what they were thinking, or feeling.

I turned over onto my stomach stretching out on the unnecessary padding of my cell. Everywhere I looked they were there, pads. I wasn't sure if they were supposed to make their prisoner at home, to comfort them, or to protect them from them selves. I needed none of the above, I definitely didn't need protecting from myself, even though everyone else in this mad house seemed to think that I did. And I didn't care if this place felt like home, or if it was comforting. why the hell should I? I was stuck here for life, I wasn't going to waste my time diluting myself into thinking that anyone wanted to make me, the crazy girl, feel at home.

The pads, to me, were a symbol of every thing that this place was, to anyone who had ever stepped through its doors, handcuffed or not. The pads were neat and clean on the outside, only slightly yellowed in places, but on the inside, bacteria roamed and spread in the many different forms of body fluids the fabric had encountered over the years. They were soft looking, but if one was to actually lay one them they would find that the were tough, lumpy, scratchy as wool, and smelled like urine. If I laid there with my eyes closed for long enough, I couldn't almost hear the screams, and pleas of the patients that had occupied it before me. I could since that this tiny room, only about seven foot long had history, had a story just like the rest of my perpetual prison.

I twisted at the waist and rolled my eyes around in their sockets, I didn't feel like keeping my eyes open, and I didn't really need to. I could go at least three days with no food, I didn't need to shower when I was locked in maximum confinement, it wasn't like I was going to be near anyone, and for the most part I could keep my self occupied for hours at a time, just by letting my imagination run wild.

I slumped into the rough pads again, I would wait, wait until the came to get me.

"god, your lazy." a voice rang clear, and loud. It sounded like someone was with me in the room, that someone had spoken aloud but I knew no one was there. This voice was a regular occurrence, It was always there, every hour , of every day, annoying the hell out of me. "just get up, honestly." the voice was exasperated, and I shook my head, trying to clear it and trying to get my internal voice to shut up, it didn't seem to be working. "get up, get up, get up!" it sang shrilly inside of my head. It was beginning to give me a migraine.

I groaned and propped my self into a sitting positing against the wall, rolling my shoulders and flexing my stiff muscles.

The voice laughed from the inside, mocking the fact that I had given in so easily.

This voice didn't have a name, and neither did the other one. Yes there were two, but the other one only showed up when I was stressed or their was an unhealthy amount of adrenalin in my veins. These voices had been around since I had moved to Gotham city about 5 years ago. I had grown used to them, they were a part of me, and that, some people seemed to think was odd. It was what had gotten me here in the first place. Well not specifically, the reason I was here involve five gallons of gas, a match and 22 dead people. But I would have gone straight to trial, and jail, probably to be executed, or to live my life in a cell much like this one, minus the pads. But then I had to open my mouth and mention the voices. That had gotten me a one way ticket to Arkham, Home of the criminally insane. Gotham cities pride and joy. Arkham wasn't so different from a regular prison, other than the fact that they gave you high dosages of drugs and you saw a physiatrist twice a week. That and the people here were a lot more interesting.

A loud pounding, interrupted my thinking. It was coming from the other side of the only door in the room. The door, like the rest on the room was cover in pads, and they muffled the noise, I tried to ignore them, closing my eyes again. The pounding sounded again, followed by a voice.

"Step away from the door, were coming in."

I didn't stand but I did as I was told, scooting as far from the door as possible. As the door open, it creaked loudly, the sound was sharp, and hurt my sound sensitive ears. Two guards step over the thresh hold. The were dressed just as I had envisioned, but they weren't holding their guns, their hands were simply resting upon them, in their belts, to remind us that they were there if needed, but wouldn't be taken out unless so.

"mourning Clara, how did you sleep?" a guard named Harry asked me. He was always friendly, but I think that had to do with his lack of intellect. He had a slight southern drawl to his voice and was probably 31 years old, he was my favorite guard.

"Harry, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Cee, and I slept fine, same as always." I replied yawning, the orderly in the room looked angry, his fist were curled into balls, and he was going red in to face. His name was Ben. Ben was an older man maybe 40 years, but he regarded me in a silly way. He was angry and mean to me when others were around, but strangely disgusting when ever he was the only one watching me. He was always brushing my arm, and touching the small of my back. It made me feel sick to just be around him. It wasn't fear, no, it was…hatred.

He gave me a hard glare before he grasped my arm and pulled me to my feet, maybe a little to hard.

"Hey, Hey, Hey, easy there Ben, I'm still a lady and I expect to be treated as such." I was saying this to mock him, he hadn't hurt me, and I didn't give a damn is I was treated like a lady or not.

He glared at me, as he pushed me out the door by a very silent Harry.

We paused out side of the door. I looked up to see Harry, place his hand on Bens shoulder, eyeing him in a strange sort of way. And then slowly Bens hand started to loosen on my arm. I felt the blood flow back to my finger tips, and they tingled. I shot Harry a look of thanks, but he was looking the other way, fiddling with his belt. Ben rolled his eyes then nudged me forward, slowly I made my way down the hall.

The hall a short one, only about 20 yards long, and there were five doors, four of which lead to their very own padded room, and one that lead to a bathroom. I reached the end of the hall way and waited as Harry pushed the down button on the elevator. I waited standing tensely between Harry and Ben.

I watched as the little arrow above the old elevator rose, ticking by the floor numbers, one, two, three, four, and finally my floor, five. The people who had designed Arkham, had put the maximum confinement on the top most floor, thinking that the higher up a prisoner was the harder it would be to escape. It was part true, and part silly, if a prisoner wanted out bad enough four extra floors wouldn't stop them. As the elevator doors slowly opened, shrieks issued from inside. As they opened I saw a small red head, being held by two burly guards, she struggled and kicked, scratching at her guards any chance she got.

"YOU ALL HAVE GOT IT COMING," She bellowed in a squeal like, high soprano voice, "AS SOON AS MY LAWYERS HEAR IM HERE ILL HAVE YOU ALL FIRED…NO ILL HAVE YOU SENT TO JAIL!" No matter how much she seemed to scream it never died down. I watched her struggle, and I couldn't seem to keep a smirk off of my face, as if her lawyers could do anything.

Harry pulled me out of the way of the girl, pushing me against the wall, and putting himself between us, as if he thought she would hurt me…or maybe it was the other way around, I wasn't sure.

"wow." The annoying voice whispered in shock inside of my head, she was soon followed by the other voice, who mirrored the others shock. "Yeah." I shook my head not believing the sight myself. The girl had fallen to the floor, and was weeping and blubbering, groveling at her guards feet.

"Please," She begged, I choked back a giggle, "Please, I don't belong here, this is all a huge mistake, I don't need to be here…I'm not a freak like her!" She thrust her tiny hand at me. Everything stilled, Harry tensed, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Ben reach for his gun, the other guards stepped in front of the strange girl, and reached for their guns as well. And then I couldn't help it anymore.

I lurched forward, frantic laughs echoing from inside my chest, I doubled over clutching at my stomach as I continued to laugh. I hadn't laughed like this in months, maybe years, and I couldn't stop. I fell to my knees, tilted my head toward the ceiling letting out another long peel of rough laughter. At some point I fell forward, and pressed my face to the floor, the coldness on the side of my cheek seem to clear my head a little, and I wiped the tears away from my face, rising to my feet again. Harry held onto my arm, keeping me steady as the room spun and I swayed. Everyone in the hallway was staring at me, Harry looked as stupid as ever, Ben looked disgusted, The two unknown guards looked surprised, and the girl looked scared out of her wits. I let out one more giggle before looking straight at the girl. She turned her head away not meeting my gaze and muffled a small sob. I smiled up at Harry,

"Can we go now?" I asked casually, as if nothing unusual had happened. He looked startled that I had spoken but then nodded, and stepped into the still open elevator, I followed him, and Ben followed me. As soon as the doors closed I looked at Ben, knowing that he could answer my questions better than Harry.

"who was she?" I asked real interest in my voice, He look down at me with a sneer but answered anyway. "Sarah Leoray." I had heard of her, she was semi-famous in Gotham city. Her parents were wealthy, and from old money, their great, great grandfather, or something like that, had been a cofounder of Gotham general hospital. She was their only daughter, maybe 20 years old and was notorious party girl, always in gossipy magazines. "Why is she here?" I asked Ben next. "She shot her parents." answered. I wasn't really surprised, it was always the rich ones that were crazy. Then Harry burst, he couldn't help but add in his input to our little conversation. "Yeah, she shot her parents both in the head, and then when the cops showed up she blamed it on her dogs, said they told her to do it. She's a real crack pot, that one." He laughed, and so did I. She blamed it on the dogs, wow she really was crazy.

Then the elevator doors opened and Bens stepped out, pulling me with him. "I've got it from here Harry, Go back to floor five." This was the part I always dreaded, the part when Harry left and Ben got weird, and today was shower day, great.

As if showering in this place wasn't awkward enough, no, You had to be watched, especially on shaving days, because that was the day every two weeks that they trusted us with a razor. Ben was always the one to watch me, and it really bothered me, couldn't they at least find a girl to watch me.

When I got to the showers I went about my usual routine, First I washed my hair, with the generic cheap shampoo they set out, then I soaped down, and lastly I shaved. As I shaved I could almost feel Bens watchful gaze roaming my naked body, and it made my skin crawl. I tried to focus on the razor moving up and down along my skin, while he continued to watch me with his greedy, lustful eyes.

I guess you could call me pretty, or you could have, before I had gotten here. I had always been pale, it ran in the family, but ever since I had gotten here my natural ivory completion had become chalky and yellowed, with the lack of sunlight exposure. My hair had once been beautiful, Wavy and a deep brown, almost black. Now it was cut short, to my shoulders, and stringy from months and months, of bad shampoo. I had never been thin, nor fat, nor had I ever been voluptuous, I was 5' 6 and flat chested. The only truly unique thing about me was my eyes. One was bright blue, the color of the sky on a cold, icy winter morning, and the other a deep brown, almost black. I had never been sure how this strange combo had come to be, and to tell the truth I didn't really care, I was just glad I had something to boast about.

When I had been in high school, I was never described as plain, and even though I thought of myself as so, boys had flocked to me. They weren't the right kind of boys, not the kind you would want to take home to meet dad, but they were boys, and they seemed to like me, whether it was my appearance, or the way I acted, loud, and random, and always adventurous. I had been proud of myself, but only in the presence of other people.

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Back in my room, I laid in the same spot I had that morning. My eyes were open staring at the ceiling seeing things that weren't there, Cars crashing, children playing in the sun, feathers flying after a pillow fight, water moving fluidly in a river. I could hear voices that I had heard before, but were no longer near. Teachers droning on and on, parents fighting, my friends laughing, my sister crying.

I watched as the pictures all blended into one jumbled mess, and the sound turned into static. I closed my eyes, turning to my side. "We need to get out of here." Voice number one said, and for once I replied. "I know." I said, "I know."

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Okay.. First chapter. Yay.

Please review, it makes my day and makes the update come even faster,, constructive criticism is welcome, just don't be mean. please and thank you. --Maddy