Title: The Overwhelming Reality
Author: Dwell_In_Me
Disclaimer: Squaresoft owns the characters portrayed in this story…well not all of them..
Dedication: This is dedicated to my girlfriend, Allison, who I love more than anything.
Author's Notes: This is my first fic…so, don't be too harsh. Read and Review, please!!! *grins*
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*Flashback*
The blade slides slowly across my wrist. A tingly feeling runs across my scalp and the wound slowly bubbles. With another quick swipe, my skin becomes red. The tingle arches across my scalp again. The floor tips up and my body coils away. The perfect, straight line of blood came up from under the edge of the blade. The line began to swell forming a long, fat bubble. The it burst, and when it did, I felt great. Relieved. The exhausted…
*End Flashback*
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My therapist closes the door behind me as I walk over to the couch and take a seat. Then he treads slowly to his desk and with a grunt he pulls the chair under him as he sits down. "How are you feeling today, Squall?" he asks in his deep voice.
"Fine." I grunt, adjusting myself on the sofa.
"Where would you like to start today?" he smile waiting for my response.
"I don't care." I answer coldly.
He coughs lowly as he pulls my file from his desk drawer and looks over to me again. I don't know why, but I hate him. The way he sits there all perfectly. Supposedly, helping me, When I reply to him sarcastically he doesn't get annoyed or anything. That same 'professional' expression stays on his face. My attention goes over to his wall, I count the tiles. 1 beige, 2 white, 3 beige, 4 white…This is actually pretty amusing I should add. It's better that talking to him, anyways… He only asks the same questions. 'when'd it start?' 'What was your reason' …give me a break. I lost count and decided to start over again.
"That's all the time we have today," His voice startled me as my eyes panned over to him. He must have been trying to talk to me. I guess he got tired of "talking to himself" that he decided to give up…Good. It's what I wanted…
"Thanks," I smile sarcastically before proceeding out the door. "Fucker." I breathe lowly as he closed the door behind me. Down the hall I could see blankets and things being thrown outside and I hear a lot of screaming. If I'm not mistaken that's the "new guy's" room. Steven…Richard…Seifer??? Some name. All I know it he was admitted a couple of days ago. And ever since he has tantrums.
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Lunch. The loud voices of laughter and arguing fill my ears as I walked pass the tables. It seems that the other people here sit in "issues" all the bulimics, anorexics, suicidals…all in groups. But not me, I sit alone. I spotted my table placed in the far corner of the cafeteria. Right by the window. Where I can look out the window at the "real world", or so I call it. I place my tray down on the table gently, and slowly sit. I glanced out the window and noticed a bird, a black bird, It seemed to be looking for something …and then it fluttered away. My eyes returned to my full tray of food. Steamed Peas. Carrots. Mildly cooked chicken fingers, and a side of chocolate milk. Hell, if you're not crazy when you get here, the food will surely drive you to insanity. I laughed quietly at my little joke before picking through the so called food. I breathe heavily before pushing the tray aside. I quickly noticed one of the nurses approaching me and I know what she wanted.
"Why aren't you eating?" she asked me, concernedly. I look upon to her and pull my tray in front of me again. "You have to eat something," she said to me, before taking a seat in front of me. I pick up one of the chicken fingers and raised it to my lips. I took a small bite out of it before throwing the partially eaten chicken finger back onto my plate. "Are you feeling okay?" her voice startled me. My eyes slowly float to meet hers. I needed her to get away from me. Her persistence annoys me, If I did, even though I don't, want to eat, I wouldn't do it while she was looking straight at me. "I'm okay." I say finally, watching as she shows a sign of relief and arises from the table. I watch as she walks slowly away from the table, inspecting the others.
The vile smell of the food arises to my nose again, and a sickening feeling curls in the pit of my stomach. I feel the sudden urge to puke out my brains, but it slowly retreats, and I just feel like the normal old me. Depressed little suicidal Squall. Wow, ain't life great? I glance over the crowed room, over to the lunch line. There I see the familiar blond staring over the steamy buffet. Even when he's not having a tantrum he still looks a little crazy. But his eyes…his dark emerald eyes could burn a hole into anyone. I'm not scared of him, though. He has two escorts following behind him in the line, He slowly picks up the dish and places small containers onto it. Then glances over the cafeteria once before taking a seat at the closet table, his escorts sitting aside him. He seems as a caged animal, his two escorts eyeing him intensively. He stares into his tray and picks up a plastic fork. He holds it in his hand momentarily, before stabbing it into one of his escorts arm. The man yells in pain as the blond teen knocks his tray from the table and lets out a loud growl before stalking around the cafeteria, knocking any and everything out of his way. I watched as the security officer held his walkie-talkie to his lips before plunging into the madness…
They quickly wrestle the crazed teen to the floor, his body menacing beneath them. Everyone in the cafeteria stares in awe as the teen fights his way under the nurses and physicians. One of the doctors retrieves a syringe from his jacket pocket and sticks the needle into the boy's, now being held sturdily, arm. The boy reacts quickly again. But slowly his head fall to rest on the floor. The people surrounding him arise from the boy, his body is spiraled on the floor. Two people raise his limp body from the ground and places his arm about their shoulders and carry him from the room.
I have witnessed the whole thing. From his first gnarl to the sleepily boy being carried from the room. But who cares about him anyways? He can die for all I care. I don't know him. He's just another kid stuck in Shallow Creek…just like me.
Author's Notes: I know you probably thinking it's going slow now, but give me time…I just want it to be perfect…It would be great if you would tell me what you think so far…the more encouragement I get, the more I'll try to bring you a really good story…Chapter 2 coming soon…