Hello Everyone! For those of you who have followed my other stories, In Your Eyes, and my co-authored story, The Bad Girl at Ouran Strikes Back, you may already know that I deal with neurological issues. Typically I blame them for causing update delays, but this time I contribute them to this story's inspiration. I have Tourette Syndrome, and many of the events will be true or based off of a true experience be it mine or someone else's in order to try to give an accurate portrayal of what dealing with mental illness is really like. If there are any questions you have about mental illness, or you need to talk to someone who understands if you're going through any of these, feel free to ask me in the comments or via PM. I hope this story will not only entertain but raise awareness about mental illness
Without further ado,
Mcfly
...
It didn't take Lucy very long after getting off the plane to find a man holding up a sign with 'LUCILLE ATKINSON written in bold, capital letters. She stood in front of the man holding the sign.
"I'm Lu-Lu," She clenched her jaw shut and took a deep breath, "Lucille,"
"Oy, pleasure to meet you, Miss Atkinson!" He was a tall lanky man and his hat fell over his eyes when he bent down to shake her hand enthusiastically. He straightened his composure and repositioned his hat. "I'll be your chauffeur- let me get your bags for ya!"
Lucy resisted the urge to thank him, afraid that speaking wouldn't work out for her and instead nodded her head gratefully to show her appreciation. She looked around anxiously, clutching the collar of her shirt.
'So many people…' she thought nervously, blinking hard as her head twitched. 'Maybe that's a good thing since it's an airport? There's too many people for anyone to pay attention to me?'
"TH-" she froze in place, and the chauffeur looked behind him after a few steps realizing she was no longer following along. She saw people weaving around her and her chest tensed knowing she was in the way.
'No brain, don't do this,' Lucy thought, urging her body to move.
'lol fuck you,' said her brain.
"TUNDERCUNT," She screamed, throwing her arms up in the air and unfreezing, taking several giant steps forward. She saw several people around her staring, an angry mother with children giving her a dirty look.
"Let's go please," Lucy pulled her hood over her eyes miserably and speed walking.
"Right away miss Atkinson," The chauffer nodded his head and picked up his own pace. He led her out towards a Ferrari parked on the front curb. He didn't get a chance to open the door for her because she ran ahead and quickly opened it for herself, the door startling her by swinging upwards instead of out to the side because rich people cars that's why, but she stepped back after initially forgetting the way the doors worked on her Grandfather's car and climbed in shutting it behind her and letting out a sigh of relief, her twitches coming to a stop.
"So, this is one of those kinds of days huh?" She rolled her eyes and slumped down in her seat, letting her head fall back against the seat with a twinge of grief filling her belly.
"Sorry about not getting your door Miss," he said climbing into the driver's seat and starting it up. "You were so fast,"
"Its fine, you don't have to worry about… about getting my door for me," Lucy told him.
"Getting the door is my job- I pretend I'm in a movie. I gotta make sure people feel specially treated, even if they ain't my boss or rich or famous," The chauffer explained as he began driving towards her grandparents' house.
"I'm sorry ab-about all my twitching and my stuttering and the yelling back there. I have Tourette's Syndroooome. It affects the part of my braaaaIIIN... that controls movement, and makes me say and do things that I can't CONTROL," She apologized, her rythym unsteady.
"Sorry isn't necessary. I already knew prior to pickin' ya up. Heard a lot of things about you already!"
"Oh boy," She sighed.
"Is there a problem?"
"I'm sure they haven't been very… very… very good things, right?"
"Well…" He chuckled awkwardly, "I wait until I meet people to see what they're like. But they sure did make you sound very interesting!"
Lucy laughed a little. "'Interesting' is one word. I'm surprised they even said anything about Tourette's,"
'Maybe they have changed their minds. Maybe things actually will be better this time,' she thought to herself. But her optimistic thinking was cut off.
"Well, sort of, I was able to… em… infer it from their conversations," He explained.
"Oh," Lucy frowned, disappointed. She could only imagine what that meant. She found herself ticing again, her face twitching over and over. The car was silent for several minutes.
"Excuse me, sss.. sss… sss… SIR! S-sorry. I… never caught your name." She finally managed her sentence out.
"Name's Alroy, not exactly a Japanese name eh?" He laughed again.
"To be honest, I was surprised you sp-, surprised you sp-, surprised you sp-, surprised you spoke English. I expected someone who spoke Japanese." Lucy admitted.
"Well, their primary language is English so I suspect you might have had an English speaking chauffeur anyways. In Japan, most people also speak English so you don't have to worry if you're Japanese ain't perfect yet. As for me, I worked with them when they lived in England, transferring here with them when they moved." Alroy explained.
"My Japanese is okay, not good but okay. I learned I'd be coming here six months ago so I've been taking a language learning program online since. Japanese is difficult, but I've spent a lot of time practicing since I found out."
"Want to practice some now?" Alroy asked her, "You'll have to practice soon anyways, come on don't be shy, I bet you're better than me. Say something, go on!" He insisted.
She sighed. "Okay, uh…. Hi, I'm Lucy. I come from America and I'm 14 years old and I don't really know what to say so… do you like waffles?"
"Well Miss Atkinson, as a matter of fact, I do enjoy the occasional waffle. What do you like on yours?" He spoke back to her in Japanese. Her tics even slowly disappeared as they conversed over the next 45 minutes before arriving.
'If I didn't know any better, I would feel welcomed already. Too bad it's not that simple,' Lucy thought to herself.
…
When they arrived at the mansion, Alroy once again insisted on carrying her bags for her. Lucy jogged ahead to grab the door and open it for him. When she did, she looked in to see there was nobody to greet upon entering.
"Is anyone home?" Lucy asked Alroy, closing the door behind her.
"The master and mistress should be home," He looked back at her and noticed a look of disappointment. "Em, perhaps they're just busy eh? Likely to be in his office I reckon. Very busy man! C'mon, let's get ye bags up to ya room for ya Miss Atkinson." He changed the subject hoping to shift the mood to a more positive one. Lucy smiled.
"Yes Mr. Alroy," She said playfully.
"But Miss, I already told ya, you really don't need to address me that way," Alroy said as he led the way up the stairs.
"Well if you insist on addressing me so formally, I feel I should return the courtesy," She reminded him. He stopped in front of a door.
"This is it, Miss,"
Lucy opened the door and her mouth dropped despite the fact she should've already known how extravagant it was going to be after her previous stay.
"Thanks, Mr. Alroy."
He left her bags by the door and assumed the task of unpacking her things as the reality of the situation dawned on her. This was it, she really was here. She noticed a package lying on her bed, addressed: Lucille Atkinson.
Ripping the box open, inside was a manual about 1/4th an inch thick titled: Household Procedures. She briefly flipped through it and saw the pages were composed of a map of the layout of the house, expectations, rules, and, quite surprisingly, household procedures.
'Typically you'd just give your guest a brief tour and talk,' Lucy looked at the thickness and sighed, "Though I imagine he doesn't want anything to deal with me more than is necessary. Why talk when he could just have this thing typed up?
She pondered the situation, tapping on her chin.
'Ah!' She got an idea, 'Lucille Atkinson, this is a-'
"FRESH START," She screamed out suddenly.
'-yeah, what you said. You need to communicate that to him, that you're trying your hardest to make sure that things are different this time! That you've turned over a new leaf, you'll be a respectable member of the household!'
She flipped back through and looked at the map of the house to see where her grandfather's office was and then jumped up out of her bed with a new motivation to seek it out. She raced down the hall, turning the corner only to run into the man himself.
"GRANDFATHER" she blurted out, only to cover her mouth. He merely stood there annoyance clear on his face.
"S-sorry," Her voice came out muffled through her hands, and she put them down. She could feel herself beginning to twitch.
"Clearly haven't opened the package on your bed I see," Lucy's Grandfather spoke.
"I-" She took a breath in to continue her words but got stuck on it, taking several more breaths in. He folded his arms, raising an eyebrow.
"Perhaps a different time would be better?" He asked impatiently
"I- I'm fine! Sorry… I did see your, erm, gift," Lucy managed out.
"Oh? Well then you must have known theres no running in the halls?"
"I… didn't… get a chance. To. Read. It. Yet. I. just got here… actually," she explained. Her head swung around in the opposite direction. "I just thought maybe if you had a minute to talk-"
"Maybe if you had read the manual, you would've known that I'm not to be bothered during my office hours. I'm clearly on my way to my office, which you would've been able to infer if you had read the manual since the restroom is right there," He pointed to a room a few doors down.
"PISS, PISS, Pissssssssssssssssssssssssssss... SORRY! Grandfather, I-"
"If you must bother me, do so at a more convenient time. Read the manual, so that you may not disturb me unnecessarily again." He sneered and turned to leave.
'Well that went well,' Lucy thought, looking over to her bed where the manual still laid. She groaned. 'Better get started,'
…
Her grandfather felt a presence in the room without looking up.
"What are you doing out of your room?" Schmidt hissed at his son.
"I just wanted to say that it wasn't right to take your anger towards me out on her,"
He looked up. It was the first time in a few days he'd seen or spoken to him. His eyelid was now a pale blue color surrounded by yellow bruising.
"If you'd been in your room this entire time you wouldn't have known how I spoke or hadn't spoke to her," He sneered.
"I don't think you're treating her fair," Edmund stated firmly, ignoring his question hidden within context. "I remember how you treated her before too, and I don't think it was right at all. If anything, I think you owe this to her as your granddaughter to make amends for when she last lived with us,"
"That is not your place to say and if it weren't for your grandmother then she wouldn't step a foot in my house! I regret that hooligan came from my blood at all and if she steps one foot out of line she will not stay in this household and you have no say in the matter!" He spat, leaning over his desk. Schmidt narrowed his eyebrows, "Get out of my office before I throw you out, get to your room and stay in there.
Edmund showed his distaste with the look he gave him before he turned and left the room. He was taken by surprise when he saw Lucy standing just outside the door looking rather defeated. His mouth gaped open slightly, unsure of what to say.
She looked down, "I'm- I'm sorry…"
She quickly scurried away to her own room, slamming her door closed.
"Hmph," He huffed to himself. Let her have heard it, she ought to know that he means business. Hell, let her step out of line, let her act out. Then he can get rid of the brat, he thought.
That was when the thought hit him. An epiphany! But how? How could he set her up to fail so he'd be able to reasonably get rid of her?
Then the 'how' came to him, and he actually chuckled out loud to himself all alone in his office. Schmidt scrummaged his desk drawers, pulling out his contacts and dialed the number. He waited for the beep at the end of the automated voice message.
"Hello, my name is Schmidt Harrison, I've called to inquire about enrolling a new student into Ouran Academy…"
He smiled to himself, 'She won't last a month at such a prestigious elite school, and when she doesn't, I'll be rid of her for good!'