[[ Sorry for how long it's taking me to upload, I'm TRYING my best to upload more and more each time to make up for dormant times… Anywho, welcome to PART 9! -dramatic music plays- . . . Currently: Mello and Matt are in a hospital. Matt died, (I know, I know) but Mello brought him back with the defibrillator! Yay! Beers all around! Mello was knocked out with a tranq. Always fun.]]

"Whatever you do will be INSIGNIFICANT, but it is very IMPORTANT that you do it."

Mahatma Gandhi

Have you ever been hit by a car? Caught in a fire? Fallen off of a thirty-story building? Add those together, multiply them by ten or twenty, and you're about halfway to where I was feeling at that moment in time.

Okay, so maybe I was still a little numb from the stupid tranquilizer that they shot into me. But hey, I knew the pain would hit me like a freight train anytime soon. It had to, unless what they shot into me was some kind of nerve-fucker-upper (did they have names for those?). In that case, I was basically fucked in the ass with a long metal pipe. That's always fun.

When I woke up this time, I was actually falling over onto the floor while sitting up, unable to catch myself. My head hit the floor but I barely felt a feather-like tap. There was no annoying beep or metal drone, telling me that they didn't care if I were dead or alive, as long as I didn't try beating the shit out of any more of their doctors. Well, my bad. Can't I just get one of those little insignificant cards that say "I'm sorry," sign it, and get out of this place?

Man, talk about boring. This place was Dull with a capital D.

The room I was in was all white-- and I mean all white. There was no bed, yet underneath me was cushioned. The walls and ceilings weren't textured anymore, but seemed to mimic the surface beneath me. There was one mirrored window ahead of where I sat, reflecting the room around me. I could only wish for another mirror on the other side of the room to reflect the other, if only for a few minutes of entertainment. I could create a little funhouse in here.

I knew on the other side had to be more "officials" telling other "officials" how I acted, how they expect me to act, what happened to me, and where I'm going to be headed, mentally. Personally, I thought they were all mental. No one quite seemed to understand that fact that when a friend dies, the other friend is going to go to any lengths to make sure they come back. Even if it meant throwing trays, beating down men, and tranquilizing other people. Hell, I'd do anything for Matt.

He came back, though, right?

I brought him back, and that was all that mattered.

I stood up, surprised that I wasn't in a straitjacket. For a moment, I was disappointed. They didn't think of me as dangerous by now? That was a shame. But as I walked around the room, I realized how hard it actually was to walk on the uneven padded surface. My bare feet sank with every step taken and as I staggered a few times, I found it increasingly easier to get used to. I actually started to kind of leap with every step. At least it was easy. I walked like a moon-man, bounding and jumping, sometimes even feeling like I floated for the smallest time before landing again. I probably looked insane to anyone on the outside looking in, lost in my own little world of space-foam and leap-frog. I nearly smiled at the thought.

What would Matt think of me bounding around in a padded room, laughing? Ha ha ha.

I went up to the mirrored window and inspected myself thoroughly, half-hoping that all the while, I was looking someone straight in the eyes. I looked like hell. My hair was ragged and had ash tangled up inside it. Grease stained a part of my face, and all around my eyes was a slight purple, reminding me of a certain favorite that I longed to see just once more. I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands, watching them turn a little darker with every rub. I kept swiping them and even backhanding them until they were dark enough to meet any "requirements." It was actually a quite satisfying turnout.

Damn, how I missed those eyes.

I tried to hide any expression I had at the moment, showing no pain, no longing, no humor, or curiosity. For a split second, I resembled the smartest man who had ever lived.

And I nearly cried at the thought.

With a huff, I let myself fall back carelessly onto the padding, not even stopping for a second to think about whether it would be soft enough to support my fall or not. Bouncing up a tad and back onto the floor, I realized that it hadn't really mattered. As I laid on the top of the cool, white padding, the scent of some kind of detergent waft up. It smelled closely to the one I used at home, but one could tell that it was heavy duty, used for loads bigger than any regular household's. My arms and legs were splayed out, and I felt some hair slicked to my forehead. If they hadn't even bothered to clean me up, they obviously weren't planning on keeping me for very long.

I stared up at the ceiling, feeling a bit like Alice. The whole room was exactly the same, and for all I knew, I could have been on a wall or the ceiling. There was no hint of an outline of a door, and I wondered if it were located next to the window or somewhere else inconspicuous.

The pain started to slowly ease in, creeping up my toes like ice and engulfing my calves in flames. It was a nasty feeling, but in the meantime, I was trying to ignore it.

I just then realized that I wasn't in my hospital gown anymore, but in a white shirt-white pants ensemble, crisp and bright clean, almost blending with the room. If I had been as white as Casper, hell, maybe I'd go all chameleon on these people. They'd never find me!

Then, for the first time since I'd awaken in the funhouse of doom, I thought of Matt. Where was he? Was he okay? Was he back in the hospital bed again? Was he in a padded cell like me? How was he feeling? Was he mad? In pain? Alive?

I scoffed. If he died, I'd be pissed. I mean, c'mon. Look at it this way: I went through all the trouble of kicking ass and beating doctors and bringing his sorry ass back to life for him only to die? How stupid and pointless would that be? I wound up in a little psych ward because of him. Who would've thought? Certainly not me. I didn't think it would end up like this.

I blamed Jew-lio.

Sleep seemed to be avoiding me at the moment, and I was grateful. All I wanted to do was stare up at the ceiling and rest my hands behind my head, as if I were watching clouds roll by. Except these clouds were dormant. And very soft. I wondered for a moment why they would put padding on the ceiling, knowing (or rather hoping) that people couldn't possibly get up there. Or, at least… not easily. I cringed at the thought of some psycho finding a way to get up there.

I rubbed my eyes again and yawned, knowing that I was in no way tired. Still, I wondered just how long I had been knocked out with that stupid tranquilizer. Too much sleep is typically bad for a person, so I figured that if I'd been sleeping too long, that I'd fall back asleep mere moments from now. Shit. I rolled over onto my stomach and rested my chin atop my hands, fingers interlaced. I kicked my legs much like they did in those girly music videos about pool-parties and bikinis, tipping my head to each side to an nonexistent beat, humming a tune that I didn't know. It was a cross somewhere between Lady in Red and Poison with a fast-paced beat, like something turned into a techno remix. I was really into it now, tapping beats with my hands and saying a random word now and again.

"Uhn tiss uhn tiss uhn tiss, duna duna naaaah, stuck in this roooooom~ I don't know, duna duna naaaah, don't know what to doooo~." I could feel the pain still steadily working its way throughout my body, but I continued to ignore it and keep on with my psycho-tunes.

I finally rested my cheek against the cool fabric and stopped my movements, instead still humming. I let my hands trail lightly over the surface, then let them sit still. I already knew that what was coming definitely wasn't sleep, but could have been close to it. Things went completely black as if lights had went out, but I hadn't closed my eyes. I knew that the lights were still on, though. Because I knew this feeling all too well to not be used to it by now.

I was still humming softly as I fell.

I felt the sharp corner of something dig into my shoulder blade and I winced, but I didn't let it show or even turn around to acknowledge its presence. Instead, I continued my calculus at the tender age of eight. But pi this, pi that, infinity infinity… I yawned and shook my head, rolled my shoulders in an effort to shake of the boredom that this class filled me with. It was all the same old stuff that I learned on my own awhile back in a place that I couldn't quite remember as clearly.

"Mello," the teacher called, stopping their lesson to single me out. They did that quite often. "Am I boring you with my lesson?"

Frankly, yes.

"No, ma'am. Please-- continue." I smiled politely and her eyebrows raised as she turned back to the chalkboard. I let out a long breath and slouched in my seat, blinking hard to stay awake.

"Mello… Mello…" I heard a voice behind me. "Mello, here!"

The teacher's hand froze in the middle of an equation, but she didn't turn around as she said, "Is that a note?" It creeped me out sometimes, how teachers seemed to know everything that was happening in their classroom without seeing anything. She hadn't even snuck a peak around as she was writing.

Daniel quickly slid the note underneath his leg on the chair.

The teacher turned around on her heel. "Mello, care to explain anything?"

I blinked. "Unless by explain you mean the problem on the board, then no, ma'am, I don't." I swallowed as she sauntered over to my desk and stood right next to me. She held out her hand as if expecting something to magically pop up in it. After a minute, she began to tap her foot impatiently, other arm crossed with a piece of chalk still in it. She nearly snarled and went to Domeni, only a desk behind me.

"Hand it over," she demanded.

"Hand what over?" he asked nervously, feet kicking the legs of my desk.

"You know."

Domeni waited a minute. Two minutes. Three minutes. Valuable class time was slipping away, and I could see the relief on the other students' faces, all older than Domeni and I save for two particular ones. Most of the students had begun to lose all interest, turning back to their work or whispering quietly amongst themselves.

"Well…?" the woman said irascibly. "I'm still waiting."

"Uhhmm…" Domeni said, not knowing what to do. I turned back to him and pulled my hand across my neck in a sign for "No!" I didn't want whatever he had written to be seen by the old hag and read to the class, and, if it were serious enough, Roger. Domeni pulled his hand up as if to shake hers, but instead, he gave her a high-five.

I rolled my eyes and let my head slump back as if to say, "You idiot."

Domeni shrugged and mouthed the words, "I'm sorry!"

Some kids in the class laughed at the deranged child. They knew that the teacher would chew his ass out for that one, but they were surprised when she did the opposite.

The woman, known exclusively for her strict way of teaching and many, many rules, smiled. Widely. She put her hand on her hip and told him in a high manner, "Very good work on your test yesterday, Daniel. It's what's expected out of a new student." She turned to eye the redhead in the corner who had began to slink down in his chair at her words. She narrowed her eyes at him. "Matt, take those wretched things off while you're in my class," she ordered. Matt reluctantly pulled the goggles on his face down so they hung from his neck. The woman continued up the aisle of desks again, and to the board. "Don't even know why he's in my class…" she seemed to mutter to herself.

In the time it took for her to get back to the board, Daniel had thrust the note into one of my hands. I moved it so the person's back in the front of me was covering it completely.

Mello, what do you remember?

I sighed. This business again? Already?

I don't remember shit, I scrawled. Leave me alone. Freak. I tossed it back at him and heard a small, almost inaudible yelp. I half-hoped the corner of the note had hit him in the eye.

I didn't know this kid. I never knew this kid. He was a creeper who liked to catch up with me in places and do "friendly" things. I was always confused with his personality towards no one but me, and it scared me, honestly. Every time, I would snap in his face and say something along the lines of, "I don't know you! Leave me alone!" But the only thing I wanted to know was…

Why did he keep coming back?

This isn't the boy I know.

"Wake the fuck up!" a woman's voice yelled, and I knew that it wasn't part of the classroom memory. Pain splintered all throughout my side. I winced before even opening my eyes, rolling over on the side that wasn't being kicked. "Wake up you piece of shit!" Were they allowed to say shit like that to you in places like these?

"For fuck's sake! Quit kickin' me!" I yelled angrily, standing up. "I'm up, I'm up!" I put my hands in front of me in a mock surrender, if only to keep the psycho lady from beating me with the huge pole she had in her hands or to keep the lady behind her from fucking tazing me with the tazer she had in her hand. And they put me in the squishy box! I eyed the women curiously, and the two of them looked extremely familiar, but I was too drowsy and still swimming in my mind to even think about any more remembering at the moment. All I could figure was that they looked very cliché, each in a short, very revealing white nurse's outfit, minus the red cross and hat. They both had a waistband cinched tight that had a whole bunch of goodies strapped to it, and by goodies I don't mean candy. I mean torture, and not the good torture. Their shiny, black leather boots were stilletoe'd and ran up to their knees. By the way things looked, I thought I was about to be part of some cheap porno!

Each woman grabbed one of my arms and practically yanked me out of the door (and I was right… it was next to the window/mirror) and down an extremely narrow hallway, barely allowing the three of us through, dimly lit by piss-yellow can lights. The tile and walls were stained an ugly citrine, almost making me gag, it was that bad. The woman with the tazer held my right arm in one hand and had her tazer jabbing into my ribs with the other.

I turned my head toward her, hair flopping. "Hey, can you ease up on that thing?" I asked.

She responded by shoving it harder and gritting her teeth. "Shut up, pretty boy," she spat.

"Well, sorry!" I shot back at her.

The other woman sank her perfectly manicured nails into my arm and rhetorically asked, "Why do we have to deal with vermin like you?"

"Oh, that's not cool," I said nonchalantly, attempting to flip my hair out of my face without hitting either of the she-devils next to me.

The two of them both slammed me against one of the walls, face first. My head was jammed sideways and they shoved me harder against it, completely smashing the side of my head and the whole front of my body. I could've gotten out of that if I wanted to, trust me. I could even do it without getting tazed, but I wasn't sure what else I'd have to go through on my way out, and I'd have to get Matt, too. If I knew where he was. How could I be so sure he'd still be in the hospital, or even be alive?

So my best bet was to wait it out until I was at least… 80% sure what I was doing. And until then, I'd let these ladies make mince meat out of my face against a wall. To be completely honest, it was kind of turning me on.

Ahahaha, they wish.

"What did you say?" one of them said. "C'mon, repeat it."

I thought back for a moment. Did they really want me to repeat that? Seriously? Wow. "Uhhmm, I said, 'That's not cool.'" I scoffed. "That's it." They shoved me harder against the wall, and I groaned. One of them was pushing me in the completely wrong place…

"That's it?" the other said. "I don't think that was it, Sandra. Do you?"

"No, Victoria… I don't. I think he said something else." Sandra pushed the tazer harder against my ribs and I could practically feel its charge starting to pulse. Victoria withdrew something from her waistband and jammed it against my left ass-cheek and I fought back the urge to playfully go, "Ooh, feisty!"

Oh wait.

Shit!

Shit!

SANDRA!

She seemed like suck a sweet, nice girl…

I turned my head to the one pushing the tazer dangerously hard into my ribs. "Hey, you don't remember me?"

She could have spit in my face right then with the words she said. "Of course I do. I fucking hate low-life men like you. You disgust me, you bottom-feeder." And, get this, then she DID spit on me. Like, right on my cheek. It was fucking gross. I bent my neck to wipe her nastiness off onto my shoulder and turned to the other girl.

"And you… you're from the bar…" I narrowed my eyes as if to better see her in the shit-lit hallway. I thought you hated her!"

She looked puzzled. "No, I never said that."

I loosened myself from the wall a bit, but Sandra pushed me harder. "Yes, yes you did."

Sandra bent her head around me to look at Victoria. "Did you say that?"

Victoria shook her head frantically, dark brown hair moving with it. "No! I would never--"

"Yes she did!" I yelled over her. "She said these words exactly, 'That slutty bartender. I hate her so much. She sleeps with every guy she meets at the bar that she likes. Like some kind of programmed hooker.'" Don't ask me how I remembered it word-for-word or could even recite it at a time like this. But at the moment, it was my last resort.

Turn them against each other.

"I'll be damned! You fucked me behind my back!" Wow, Sandra sure wasn't aware of how really wrong that sounded. "You fucking bitch!"

"I never said that! He's lying!" Victoria denied, still shaking her head. Beads of sweat had begun to form on her forehead.

Sandra loosened her grip on me. "It sounds just like something you'd say! You backstabbing, good-for-nothing WHORE!" She let go of my completely and flailed her arms like a pissed-off girl, which is exactly what she was. "I can't believe you!"

"Sandra, keep it together!" Victoria yelled, holding her hands up in front of her as if to tame a wild animal, which is what Sandra was about to become. There was about to be an all-out cat-fight. I sure as hell would not miss that. "You're losing sight of our mission!" Ha, the way she said that word, mission, made them sound like… secret spies. Or something. I nearly chuckled.

"Mission my ass! It's nothing without my trust in you, and that's long gone! Out the window!" If there were any windows in this god-forsaken place… I noted silently. She shoved her hand out and caught Victoria, tazing the shit out of her, not stopping until she would be either brain-dead or just dead. Damn, girls were viscous.

When Victoria was on the floor and Sandra thought she was close to dead, Victoria's hand shot out and grabbed Sandra's ankle, pulling her down to the ground. She landed on her skull with a loud CRACK! I winced as a deep carmine stained the tile. She struggled greatly to get on all fours and taze Victoria again. Once Victoria was down (for good… I was sure of it), Sandra fell down in a huff as blood rushed from her like a dam had broken loose.

I waited a minute.

Two minutes.

Three minutes.

Valuable escape time slipped away as I waited to see if either one was alive, or conscious. I poked each one of them with the toe of my sock, watching them roll over unresponsively. I really had no feeling toward either of them at the point, and seeing them lying there dead was actually a huge relief, especially since I hadn't killed any of them.

At least the world was free of two FUCKING INSANE ASS PSYCHOS.

Jesus Christ, I'd never forget that.

I turned back to the direction that we'd been heading and continued down the seemingly endless hallway.

[[WHAT THE FUCK. Sorry that was really boring/weird… I really wasn't sure what should have happened, but I figured this would be a nice little fit. I really wanted Sandra to come back sometime in the story, and what better than to make her the opposite of what she was in the beginning? XD (Has anyone noticed that I apologize a lot in these?) Anyway, reviews?(: I love you all, read on!33]]