Beep, beep.
My alarm pierces through the fog of my sleep ridden brain.
Beep, beep.
Grrrrrrrrrr, it's times like this that I wish I had claws like wolverine, so I could rip through horrible electronic items and murder them forever.
Beep, beep.
"M-kay, got the point!" I mumble, and stretch my hand out to try to defeat the machines conspicuously large off button, instead knocking the stupid piece of technology onto the floor. I'm great at mornings.
Beep, beep.
"Okay, okay, you win. I'm getting there." I untangle my legs haphazardly from the knot of various blankets rapped around me, and find my way to the blasted alarm, ending my early morning torture. The sun is making its way softly through the fabric of the curtains, and it dances on my still half asleep eyes. Battle number two, COFFEE!
"Hey, little sista', didja' miss me?" Pietro swaggers into our little kitchen with a trademark grin plastered to his face. I roll my eyes, but a smile worms its way through my morning melancholy anyway. My jerky brother, although he acts like a major butt-hole, never fails to lift my mood.
"For starters, twins mean I'm not your little sister, and secondly, I'd never miss a bastard like you, especially when I only saw you last night."
"Oh, how could you survive, spending an entire eight hours away from your amazing older brother?"
"Yea, yea," I mumble half-heartedly at him, waiting for my coffee to boil. To be fair, Pietro has earned the right to be annoying, even at 22 years of age. This past couple of years have been insane, and not in a good way, but he's stayed by me the entire time. I'm not sure if I'd be alive without him.
"Anyway, sis, I gotta' get ta work, 'kay? Oh, and don't forget your pills, yea?" Pietro turns his face towards me, but he doesn't quite catch my eye. It's how he always looks at me when referring to my schizophrenia. I find it annoying, but I get that it's a touchy subject for him, well, for both of us.
"Yes mum, I'll do the dishes and homework, too!" I stick my tongue out at him, and he grins as he pecks me on the cheek, before whizzing out of the kitchen with a "luv ya" thrown over his shoulder. I grab my now boiled coffee and down my medication with a smile breaking through the early morning gloom. My awesome brother never fails to light up my day. I tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, and stroll down the hall with my mug held high. Now, to make myself presentable
I lock the bedroom door behind me with a note of triumph. It's not hard to remember a time when there were no locks allowed in the apartment, except for the ones on the front door and all the windows. When I'd managed seven months on planet sanity, Pietro had them all reinstalled. It was a triumphant moment.
My coffee set down on the desk beside me, I grab a brush and begin the process of untangling my long crazy hair. Pietro's always been jealous of my hair, as he managed to inherit our dad's thin white locks. No one really knows why Pietro and Max (our biological dad), were born with pure white hair; it's just one of those medical mysteries. Well, not to Max. He thinks that both he and Pietro have white hair because they're members of a secret organisation called the brotherhood, and they're gonna take over the world. Anyway, any time Pietro brings up the hair thing, my easy rebuttal is that he should consider himself lucky. He inherited our father's looks, whilst I inherited his insanity.
Wild hair tamed slightly, I move on to make-up. As a teen, I never used make-up. I never understood the point! But now, when the mortality rate of schizophrenics is four times higher than the norm, I tend to try out as many crazy things as possible. Why not? Lipstick on, mascara on, and a little deep red eye shadow, because I can. Then I clip up my hair in a bun, as is store policy. Oh, wait! I forgot to put on the uniform! Wow, that was smart, even for me. I strip off my nightgown, replacing it with a not so flattering Woolworths dress, then practice my sickly smile in the mirror.
"Hello, how may I help you today?" I stand there for a minute, and laugh. My attire looks ridiculous, but it's fun. I grab my watch, handbag and now empty coffee cup on the way out of my room, glancing at the time as I go. All well and good, work starts in half an hour. Dropping my coffee cup in the kitchen on the way past, I head out the front door, locking it behind me. I breathe in the stale air that enshrouds the entire building, with a smile. Being able to work is awesome, even if I'm only scanning groceries. I love the fact that I can go about my daily life without walls cracking around me, and voices whispering in my ears. It's freedom in its purest form.
Even though Pietro and I live on the eighth story of the complex, I still take the stairs down to the ground floor. All the shrinks say that the best way to manage schizophrenia is through a mixture of medication and a healthy lifestyle, so I try to stay as fit as possible. See, insanity has its upsides!
I enter the store through the back door, weaving my way through the many boxes piled up in the storeroom. Peter is already there, sitting on one of the crates up above my head. I don't know how he does it, but he's always up on top of something, or in an awkward position that should be impossible. It's rather odd, to be honest, but it's also rather hilarious.
Maybe he's a mutant a voice in the back of my head whispers. What? Um, no, I don't think those exist. Weird.
"Hey Pete," I call up to him, "How's that aunt of yours?" He starts suddenly, then looks down at me with a grin.
"She's fine, still drinking tea like it's holy water!" I chuckle, remembering all the times Peter's aunt May had come to the store. Although she is quite old, and looks feeble, she has kick-ass willpower.
"And Wanda, how is your delightfully polite twin going. Still coming up with malicious ways to torture you?" I throw him a grin.
"I think he's given up on destroying my sanity, I never had any to begin with! He's coming after you next!" Peter gasps in pretend horror, then jumps from the box he's sitting on to stand next to me.
"Jeez, Peter, one day you're gonna' kill yourself! How do you do that?"
"Dunno, natural talent, I guess," he replies, but it almost looks like he's avoiding my eyes.
"Can Peter Parker, Clint Barton, Hank Pym, Wanda Maximoff and Janet van Dyne please report to the front counter," the intercom buzzes, Tony's self-assured drawl. If I have schizophrenia, he definitely has narcissistic personality disorder. Peter sighs, and catches my eye.
"So, ready for another day in working class prison?"
"Yup, bring it on!"
"Home time slaves! Pack up your junk and get your butts out of here!" Tony makes his way along the front of the check-out desks. With his business suit and swagger, the average passer-by would expect him to be a billionaire playboy, not the manager of a boring old Woolworth's store. He has an ego bigger than the Eiffel Tower, but his massive heart makes up for it.
When you have schizophrenia, it can be a massive challenge to get into the work force. Although schizophrenia awareness has increased over the years, that wasn't the biggest problem I faced when getting a job. After my first major psychotic break, I was out of work for about six months, and to potential employers, that seemed really suspicious. I couldn't find a job for three months! That all changed when I went for an interview at the store down the street. Tony employed me without batting an eyelid, and I'm not the only one.
Hank Pym, one of the male check-out chicks, has clinical depression, and there's a guy in the back, called James Howlett (or something), who has real anger problems.
"Hey, Wanda, looking good, girl!" Tony swaggers up to me and wolf-whistles with a smirk.
"Oh, bother someone else, you dodo!" I give him a shove as he laughs warmly.
"All the staff treating you well?" he questions, as he does at least once a week. I shoot him a smile.
"Yea, no death threats yet." He winks at me
"Good. Couldn't have anyone kill off the only talent this place has!"
"Oy, Tony! Stop harassing Wanda and go finish whatever paperwork Pepper's holding you hostage with!" Clint strides up to us, and chases his boss over to Pepper, the long suffering PA.
As Tony turns, smile still twinkling in his eyes, I catch a flash of something … odd, on his chest. It shines a fluorescent blue, and whatever it may be, it doesn't seem natural. I blink in surprise, and look again, but by now, Tony's back is turned towards me. Okay, there's definitely something strange about Tony, and it may be more than just an inflated ego. I gnaw at my lip as my brow furrows, and I reach up to undo my hair. What was it that I saw?
I'm half-way home when I hear it
"Scarlet Witch, I deeply missed you." I jump, spinning around. That voice would be recognisable anywhere.
"Vision!" I smile, but then I freeze. "Hold on, I can see you. That means…" No, this isn't happening, not again.
"Wanda, Magneto is tracking you and Quicksilver. He is allied with The White Queen. Find Quicksilver and get him to run you both out of here." Oh, crap. It is happening again. Vision was my first hallucination. I have no idea why he's here now. I've been taking the pills as usual.
"Vision, you're not real, okay? Magneto isn't real and neither is Emma. You're all a figment of my stupid, messed up head, and I have to find Pietro."
"I assure you Wanda, I am as real as you are, and as real as the danger you are facing. Find Pietro, and disappear." I can already feel my heart beating almost faster than my brother can run...wait, NO! Pietro can run as fast as I can, no faster.
"Okay Vis, I'm going to walk home now, and when I get home, I am going to get Pietro to make an appointment with Dr. Banner. Before you warn me, Dr. Banner is not a giant green rage monster, he is a psychologist who specialises in schizophrenia. I'll try some new meds, and all of this will go away." A woman jogging on my left shoots me a glance, picking up her pace, which further proves my wavering sanity.
"Wanda, they will find you if you go to your house," Vision's warns, voice taking on a worried tone. "It is not an intelligent proposition." Ignoring him, I break into a run, and he lifts off the ground to fly beside me. Vision was originally just a voice inside my head, back when this torturous disease started, and we have a very messed up, involved relationship. No, I mean, I have imagined us to have a very messed up, involved relationship.
I race around the corner and through the main entrance to my and Pietro's apartment complex, and begin taking the stairs two at a time. As far as I'm aware, Vis is following, but I don't have the energy to dwell on his whereabouts. I sprint towards our front door, and slam into it, gasping for breath.
"Pietro, get over here!" I manage to cough out, and bash my hand against the door a couple of times for good measure. A muffled 'coming' finds its way to my ears.
"Someone sounds eager to see me…" Pietro starts, but then stops when he sees my face. "What's wrong?" he asks, his smile disappearing.
"Pietro," I gasp, and check behind me to see Vision floating nonchalantly in the air. "Vision is right behind me. Call Dr. Banner, right now!" Pietro's expression crumbles for a moment, and he curses under his breath, but in an instant he smooths his face into a troubled smile.
"Right, get your butt in here and sit on the couch. I'll phone his sexy secretary now." He steps away from the door, and I stumble through, Vision following me.
"The living room's this way, Vis," I tell my friend, and then berate myself for informing an illusion. Logically, its obvious Vision isn't real, but I can see him! I can feel his hand when he places it on my shoulder, smell all his mechanics working, and hear his familiar voice when he answers my questions. Even now, I automatically smile a 'you're welcome' as he nods thanks.
"Wanda, you know he's, like, an acid trip or something, yea?" I glance guiltily towards my brother. He's trying to act reassuring, but he's scared for me, and for himself too. We've both been through so much with this stupid disease, yet here we are again. Me talking to imaginary friends I'm too old to have, and Pietro trying to save what's left of my sanity.
"Pietro, I, look, I know, it's just, dammit, it's happening again." I pull at my long hair, trying in vain to ground myself. Cool hands wrap around my own, saving my hair from my insanity, and leading me towards the sofa.
"Sorry to intrude, but departing swiftly is a good action plan at present."
"Vis, shut up! My brain is imploding!" I snap, but soften my gaze at his worried expression. "I'm sorry Vis, but I need to talk to Pietro."
"Wanda? Tell me what he's saying, and what other trippy things you're seeing or hearing, okay?" I can see Pietro's freaking out, and me conversing with a hallucination isn't helping.
"Tread lightly, LITTLE brother; you're losing your street cred with all this caring and worrying. Anyway, Vis says we're being tracked by dad and Emma Frost, an evil mind reader. And don't worry, I haven't seen or heard much other than that." Pietro sighs, and flops down on the couch next to me. I lean into him, and he gives me a quick squeeze, before pulling away.
"Okay, I'm gonna' go get the phone and call the good doctor. Sit tight LITTLE sis."
"Scarlet Witch, it is advisable you run, quickly." Vision's voice is losing its usual cool.
"Pietro, lock the door, and keep the key away from me." I'm trying not to show it, but I'm freaking out. If Magneto does turns up, which won't happen because he's NOT REAL, then both Pietro and I are in grave danger.
"Wanda! It is imperative that you cast a protection spell right now! The White Queen is psychic, as you well know, and she can read your location just as you read a book! I know what your brother is saying sounds convincing, but I am certain you are aware, at some level, that this is all real! Please, Wanda, your death would be detrimental to my emotions." I am sitting on a sofa in my apartment, talking to an imaginary android. This android is telling me that two psychos are coming to attack the Maximoff family. There is a possibility that what former stated android is saying has truth in it. If that is the case, all I have to do to stop harm coming to all of us is say a couple of magic words.
"Vis, I haven't cast a single spell in ages, and what if I, well, what if I lose control again?" What if I lose someone else the same way I lost Billy and Tommy.
"You can either cast the spell, or leave all of us in mortal danger. Cast it, and promptly!"
"O-okay, yea, you're right," I mumble, and race my pounding heart to begin the magic. I don't have the practice needed to cast it silently, so I'm gonna have to use a mantra. "iwanttoshieldpietrosmindiwanttoshieldmymindiwanttoshieldpietrosmindiwanttoshieldmymindiwanttoshieldpietrosmindiwanttoshieldmymindiwantashieldiwantashieldiwantashieldiwantashield"
The walls are cracking. I'm not kidding; the walls of the small sitting room have cracks running through them. Everything is shaking, and my entire body is thrumming. There is noise everywhere, exploding through my senses. Banging and crashing, and the smell of sulphur.
"Vision," I can still see Vision, floating there as the entire building rocks back and forth. A chunk of apartment flies off, revealing the now flaming oval. "What's happening?"
"Wanda, I…" His voice sounds, sad. I didn't realise it could do that. "I'm so sorry. You have connected to the chaos stream. You, you're an avatar for an element of magic that is destabilizing existence of reality as we speak. I can't stop it. I'm sorry, but the only way to save the world from total annihilation, is to," Vision stops again, and I'm not sure he's going to continue. A piece of the sofa rips itself to shreds in front of my eyes, before bursting into flames. "To preserve the earth, you must, eliminate the avatar, by, killing yourself." As these words, further shattering a world that is coming down around my ears, leave Visions mouth, he dissolves before my eyes.
"Vis, wait…" and I am left alone. I might not be alive right now, everything's just, numb. Some of my skin tears itself from my arm, and that's what wakes me out of this haze. The world is being destroyed, THE WORLD IS BEING FRIGGING DESTROYED, and it's because of me. You can't call the speed my heart is going at human; it's more vibrating than beating. Oh my gosh, I'm going to die. I'm going to dissolve like Vision just did. And so is Pietro. But I can stop all this, in an instant. I find myself standing, and I turn towards my bedroom.
My whole body is shaking like a rabid squirrel, along with the apartment. I kind of stumble towards the bedroom door, my stomach in a tornado. I manage to push myself through the door before it rebels, and I lose the smallish lunch I had at the store today. The store might not even be standing now. I grasp at my hairbrush, and turn to face the mirror. The makeup I was so proud about wearing this morning is coming off in chunks. My hair is frazzled and sticking up everywhere, but the most disturbing thing is the colour of my eyes. They reflect perfectly the blood red sky outside my window.
Taking hold of the brush like a baseball bat, I swing it at the glass. My image shatters as the glass flies off in all directions, and a tremor makes its way up my arm. I reach for a piece of glass lying on the desk, and grasp it in my hand. This is it, I guess. Goodbye Tony, goodbye Peter, bye Dr. Banner, bye … I love you Pietro. Goodbye. I slide the sharp glass over my wrists, and it seems to take a second for blood to spurt out. Then it rushes at the pace of my galloping heart, warming my hands.
"Wanda? Crap!"
The world goes from red to black.
My little sis's legit tied to the bed in front of me. Like, no joke, restrained. That's some creepy crap right there. Anyhow we're at, like, a random retard hospital, and we can't leave for, well, until Wanda's not chatting up imaginary crap. The silver lining, if all this crap can have a silver lining, is that she's, being drowned in flowers and 'get well soon' cards. Lame, but at least the room's not bare.
"P-Pietro?" Oh, there we go. Sleeping beauty's joined the land of the living.
"Yup, still breathing. You look really doped up over there." She looks at me vacantly, and her brow crinkles hilariously.
"W-Huh?" Well, she answered my question, anyway. I'll definitely bring a video camera or something next time.
"Hey, baby sis. Your Woollies buddies are asking after ya'. What's with the manager, anyway? He's, like, inviting you straight back after the doctors' confirm you're living on our good little planet." I know I'm not gonna get much of a conversation, but I'll keep her company non-the-less.
"Go-way, Piet." Huh? Well, that's hurtful, and an obvious sign she's still a nutter. I'd never leave her alone in this kinda poop-hole.
"Er, no. Not gonna happen. Never in a million years. Atach, dinilo!(AN: stop, you idiot)"
"Go … an, get money. An, chavi (AN: girl). An, family. Go … life!" Oh! That's what she's getting at! It kinda hurts to see her so intent on me leaving, even with enough drugs in her system to put a junkie in heaven. We've talked about this before, or more like she has and I've ignored her.
"Wow, little sis. You're even more of a dinilo on drugs. I don't want any old chavi, I want the one most important chavi in existence." Be forewarned, I'm about to be a non-jerk. Run for the hills. "You."
Unthinkable. I told my sis I love her. She's drugged up, so I'm sure it won't do too much damage. But seriously, she's laying there expecting me to go and get a normal life, and leave my entire family (population: 2) locked in a loony bin. "You know what we're gonna do? We're gonna get you some new daily drugs, and we're gonna try this again, okay? We're gonna keep trying until camels learn to ice-skate. 'Coz, lo and behold, I happen to love you, and I'm not locking you up in some hell-hole, hear me?"
" … Yea, I … ooh, pretty!" Here's a tip. Argue with Wanda when she's cuckoo, and you're gonna win.
"Yes, Wanda, it's a card from that boyfriend of yours down at the store." Wanda scrunches her nose in disgust.
"Tony nt my boy-frnd!" Hah! I've gotta get a video camera! That was priceless!
"Oh, I'm sure! Now, he says here … "
The End
First story, be nice (or don't, I really don't care, just review with a smiley-face or something)