The Perception
Chapter One
"And do you know why you did those things to yourself?"
Clare glances up from staring at her white sneakers. She could barely tell they'd been worn for three months now; they were nearly spotless. She traces a finger across her collarbone and lightly bites her bottom lip. She makes eye contact with the woman in the white jacket, but then breaks it off quickly to look outside the window.
She looks out the window of the hearse. It's dark out. So much so that she can barely make out the difference between branch and sky. But she knows there's a difference, and she can lightly see it when she turns her head just so.
She takes a deep breath and a white mist settles into the air as she releases it.
She gives a slow nod.
No.
And with that the woman gives out her own deep sigh of frustration. She threads her fingers through her straight blonde hair tangled with a few grey strands. "You do realize that the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?"
Clare doesn't answer. Instead she releases her bottom lip from her hold and brings her icy blue eyes to look again upon the woman. She's met by dark brown eyes that gaze at her roughly, attempting to somehow force a word out of her.
Clare taps her wrist twice.
With another deep sigh, the woman replies to Clare's request. "Yes, Clare, I assume this is as far as we'll get today."
When she wakes up that morning, she knows something's off.
She scans around the room quickly. The pictures are still there perfectly aligned on the walls. There isn't a single black frame that's out of place. All the flowers in their vases are still fresh, colorful- alive. The grandfather clock in the front hallway chimes seven slow times.
She reaches for her throat and then works her way down. Blue plaid shirt. Brown braided belt. Blue jeans.
She gets up and the world spins.
Clare quickly got out of the brown leather chair and makes her way to the door. Twisting the gold handle quickly, she's met by another woman on the other side. "Clare," the old woman says with a kind smile. She reaches to put an arm around the girl. Her hand stops on her shoulder as she questions her with a kind smile, "Any progress today?"
She gives a small polished smile up at the old woman. "No, Jan, not today. Maybe tomorrow."
It's routine now. She's always met by the same old woman and every day the same old woman asks her the same old question. And every day Clare offers her the same old answer. And then they're simply silent.
But not today. Because today Jan must have decided that she's going to get this relationship with Clare to work because she attempts to buddy up to the girl by spilling gossip. "So..." Jan begins in an excited whisper. "I hear that we might be getting a new guest soon."
"Oh, really?" replies Clare blandly. She knows its rude to reply in such a manner, especially since she knows that Jan has sweet intentions. But alas, she just wanted to go hide underneath the covers for a few hours until dinner.
"Yep. A boy to decrease the large ratio of boy to girl. I think it will be nice having another man here. It will give us girls something to chat about, you know," she gives a kind wink in Clare's direction. "From what I've heard, he seems nice enough."
"They all do, Jan."
"Excuse me, dear?"
Clare turns up to Jan with wide eyes, covering her words. "I didn't say anything."
It's that moment between dream and awake that she feels a muscular arm drape across her stomach and pull her in close. It's the warm breath on her neck that wakes her up with a flutter of her eyelashes.
She doesn't say anything, but waits for his next move.
They return to silence as they continue walking toward Clare's room. Jan turns the gold knob to the wooden door and opens it wide for Clare's entrance. She continues to stand there as Clare passes through, kicking off her shoes and heading straight towards the covers.
And like tradition, once Clare is buried underneath as if laying under a bed of sand with only her head poking out, Jan sweetly calls out to her, "See you in a few hours." And closes the door.
She wakes up and she's all alone. She shifts around and she doesn't see anyone.
She pulls the covers over her head and the she can barely see the outline of her fingers that she lay to rest in front of her.
The sheets feel cool against her burning skin. A soothing sensation to calm down her pounding heart.
She closes her eyes and takes a calming breath. In for two, out for two. In for two, out for two.
She tries to focus on something else. Anything else.
In for two, out for two. In for two, out for two.
She starts counting. 1. 2. 3. 4. 5-
In for two, out for two. In for two, out for two.
She reaches up to 77 and that's when it all starts getting hazy. She reaches a hand up to her forehead but can't.
She can't steady her mind.
In for two, out for two. In for two, out for two.
As hard as she tries, she can't grasp control of herself.
She isn't in control of herself.
In for one. In for one. Out. In for one. Out. In for two, out for one. In for one. Out. Out.
Shh...Clare, just breathe.
She shudders and catches air in her chest.
She's lost control.
She's lost control.
She knows that the first step to recovery is admitting what happened. And admitting it to someone. But she knows that by doing so, that would mean making the past part of her shared consciousness in the realm of the present-
And she isn't sure if she's ready for that just yet.
End of Chapter One.
As always, Please Review! All comments/suggestions/thoughts/criticisms are greatly appreciated. Thanks for reading.
