Disclaimer- I don't own Flight 29 Down or any of its characters
Extended Summery: Vermin of the night, living in cracks in the walls and holes in the floor- the lepers of contemporary society: junkies. That's exactly what she was. After a near-fatal overdose, Taylor is admitted to the hospital and visited by a messenger of her wealthy father who bears the news of redemption. Or hell, it would seem. She is sent to Pine River Institute, a rehabilitation center surrounded by a vast nothingness of wintery boreal forest- an alien land far from her hometown of the sun soaked city of Los Angeles. During her stay at Pine River, she meets a number of interesting new people but in particular, the myterious and alluring boy simply named Jackson. A first time-commited young addict, Taylor struggles with her identity as tries to define herself without drugs.
A/N: My new story, yay! I have lots of inspiration for this one so hopefully I will be writing and updating a lot in the near future. Anyway, this story is a bit different from my other stories. I have never written AU (alternative universe) before nor a M rated fic so I'm pretty excited. Enjoy!
Her transparent grey skin was a thin, fleshy curtain, barely masking the boney stage behind. Veins were revealed racing along her body in complex networks, divulging the secrets of her internal workings. She was near a skeleton; not quite a corpse, but not nearly a human. She was decaying matter, wasting away in her hospital bed.
Her teeth chattered, her pores oozed cold sweat. She shook. She convulsed. Her raspy voice spat out half-shapen curses. It sounded as if she was speaking in tongues, or perhaps diverting back to the language of a primitive beast. A catholic nurse who came in for check-ups had taken to reading her the bible, convinced that she was possessed by the devil. Possessed she was, but not by the devil…
Her possessor called to her, in a pitch only her trained ears could hear. If her body would operate in an appropriate fashion, she would have complied with its wishes. She would have found it. But alas, she was tied down by the bondage of her useless bundle of bones.
If one looked closely enough at her sunken face, polluted with the scars of lost battles, there was semblance of a once beautiful girl. Haunting, fluorescent blue irises bulged out of her hollow face. They flickered across the room periodically, with a magnetism so great it was hard not to be pulled into the gravity of her stare. The crazed look in her eyes reflected that of a starved animal. Her gaze could not be held for more than a matter of seconds as it was too uncomfortable to bear.
A few days after her initial hospitalization a man came to visit her- her first visitor. He entered her room gingerly and upon seeing her, stopped for a number of moments to survey her tragic state. His lips pursed and he cleared his throat.
"It was quite the struggle to find you here, you know," he offered casually as he stepped to the foot of her hospital bed.
Her eyes darted over to him and ran along his body in sporadic, broken lines. She did not speak.
"They said you wouldn't even say your name- they didn't know if you knew how to," he continued in the condescending tone of a self-righteous authority figure, "what is your name?"
Her eyes seemed to struggle to focus on him and her lips quivered with the intent of speech. Her left leg had a spasm. She looked out the window.
"I see," he said in distaste, "can you speak at all? Or is this just another ploy for attention?"
After a few beats of silence, his tyrant speech resumed: "This is the absolute last of this, you must have guessed by now. I do not wish to put up with this any longer. I've arranged for a place to take you upon your release. No more running. It took me long enough to track you down here- and look at you! You're and absolute mess, basically on the verge of death. In fact, count your lucky stars you aren't ten feet under as we speak! The absolute end, I say! No more!"
Her lips traced the shape of many words until she finally croaked "fuck off."
He resounded with a bitter laugh, "Oh, so your voice has reappeared now, has it? And with the attitude as well, of course."
Her lips curled down into a grimace- her first show of emotion. This seemed to place a smug smile on the man's face.
"And the corpse is revived through malice," he swooned joyfully. "This will certainly make my job easier."
Her grimace deepened. Her eyes blazed with anger as she repeated herself once again; "fuck off".
"This place you will be going to," he said, ignoring her, "or an 'institute' as they call it, has a zero tolerance policy. They won't take your bullshit- not as I have. They specialize in people like you. They'll know how to get to you if you don't listen. So you'll be good, yes?"
He indulged in humouring himself by pretending to expect ananswer. She only continued to frown and disregard him as he knew she would.
"Pine River Institute it's called. Apparently it has lovely grounds, although I suspect you won't be seeing the light of day for a while. People like you don't like the sunlight anyhow, do you? Vermin of the night, living in the cracks in the walls and holes in the floor- like fucking lepers. No wonder you're as pale as a ghost; you don't meet the sun often, huh? Just fucking roaches, you people, that's what you are."
He paused to remember his train of thought. "Oh yes, Pine River. That's what I was on about," he muttered. "You'll get your self straightened out there. They've got programs- like therapy and substance group- stuff to help you with your issues. Not as swanky as the some of the rehab centers in California but that's not what you need. You need hard time, not a vacation."
"And who the fuck says I'm going?" she demanded in a strained voice.
"Well for starters: me," he countered, "although my orders don't hold much weight with you, do they? It's too bad really, seeing as I have been given the authority from higher up to deal with you. And higher up agrees with me that this plan of action is necessary at this point. You're not a legal adult yet- you have to listen to the higher ranks."
"Put him on the phone," she commanded.
"As much as I am sure he would love to hear this one, he is not available."
"Not available," she spat out in a renewed rage, "what the fuck does that mean?"
"It means he's not available. He cannot be reached; he's busy. Sorry princess."
"What do you mean he's busy? This is unacceptable! He can't send his little bitch down here and just have me shipped off without a word!"
"Unfortunately for you," the man lectured, "being him, he doesn't need 'a word'. He didn't get where he is today by talking out all his decisions. He's a man of action- a busy man of action with no time for your shenanigans."
"He's my father," she said harshly.
He laughed. "Oh, so he's your father now? He's the one who's supposed to be in charge, now is he? That seems to be a new development in your philosophy on life. I had thought you were the one running the show. You certainly never listened to him before."
"I don't take messages from little bitches. Anything he wants me to do, he has to fucking say it to my face."
"Oh yes, I'm sure that would make you an obedient little angel," he said, his voice ridden with sarcasm.
"Now," he concluded after looking at his watch, "I must go. You get your rest. As soon as the doctor will sign the release sheets- which if everything goes according to plan should be in a couple of days- some nice gentlemen will assist you straight to a car, with brute force if necessary, and you'll be going straight to Pine River."
"Go screw yourself," she said ruefully.
"Lovely to see you as always, Taylor. Good luck with your recovery." The man looked at her for one last time and took his exit.
A/N2: I hope you enjoyed the debut of my new story! Please review to tell me your intial thoughts on it and/or any errors that may be in this chapter (there may be typos as I typed this quite late in the night). I'm not quite sure how this story will be recieved so any comments are greatly appriciated.