Author's Note: Yes I am a horrid person who can't for the life of her update quickly. I can't help it, I have to share my computer with other people…people who don't necessary understand that I need to gaze at OC fanart for a few hours before inspiration strikes. Thank you so much for the awesome reviews you gave me last time around. I think you guys broke a record for the most reviews I've ever received on one chapter. So ^-^ thanks again. I'm glad you liked the marriage twist, but for the people wondering how old they were. Well they married young, and I'll give the reason for that soon I hope, so they are mid twenties now. About 24 now I'd say. Oh and next chapter (which I promise I've already written half of) will be all about her return to Newport. Okay read on, review please because gosh you've all spoiled me now. And I really hope you'll like it.
Ch 10Inside
my head's a box of stars I never dared to open
Inside the wounded hide their scars, inside this lonesome sparrow's fall
Outside the rain keeps falling
Outside the drums are calling
Outside the flood won't wait
Outside they're hammering down the gate
I
climb this tower inside my head
A spiral stair above my bed
I dream the stairs don't ask me why,
I throw myself into the sky
Inside – Sting
She sat at the foot of her four-poster bed, soothing pinks helplessly waving back at her as memories swept up her muted emotions. Her tears just wouldn't fall, yet her mood was lower than she could have ever imagined. It had been weeks now, alone in her bedroom, rebelling against good sense and everything he had taught her. Everything he had done to protect her. Yet she was being pushed by something beyond herself, to disregard all of it in its overwhelming grandeur. She was tired of feeling so tiny all the damn time. So futile, despite the fact that this was her life.
"I don't want them to take you away from me." She had heard her daddy's voice plead with her at every turn. Remnants of his comforting presence still linger around her, yet it wasn't the same feeling …not as strong. Not as safe, without him there to emphasize it all. His little girl was stubborn though, eyes ablaze with fire, as she tried to hold herself upright against her demons.
Unpredictable in her actions, so kind in her intentions, a chorus of voices hissed at her but she didn't hear what she didn't like. And it kept getting colder in her pretty room, making it so she could hardly hear the soothing rush of the ocean. Numbing her until all she could feel was her incessant guilt.
Daddy's voice was fading now, things got fuzzy again and she refused to think about the things he used to warn her for. She felt things tingle at all the wrong places, and all that seemed to fit for her was this boy with his sympathetic eyes and kind smile. Fearful all of a sudden, the little girl wasn't steady in her skin anymore, not like he remembered her…She was starting to forget too.
"You can't stay here by yourself," he whispered to her. And she'd wanted to believe him, but something told her she was alone for a reason. That no one but her daddy could ever handle her. She thought he was so mean, being right every single time, and so she didn't obey him. Even if his blood still clung to these walls. Even if he had only just turned cold. Her father couldn't take her sweet boy away anymore. No more rules, her madness declared and she smiled slyly. The pink room instantly feeling softer for her.
So she let him in, showed him her world. With a kiss she danced with him, because she remembered he loved it so. Because she wanted him to love her enough. The boy promised her peace, and with his ring she hoped she'd feel it all the way through. And it would be a new beginning.
"I'll be all right Daddy, I've got Seth now." She said before she left her pink room, a whisper to a ghost that would never hear it anyway.
***
"You know," my smirk feels larger than all the potbellies lining this room in their tight-fitting uniforms, "I never really liked you." I hear some of the patients stop in their tracks and for the first time in the history of this common room, there's a distinctive hush to be heard. It encourages me, pushes me on into doing something I have never dared to do. Silence is a more pleasant drug I declare to myself, and continue to stand up to the nametag people. "I was just pretending." The orderly in front of me doesn't seem that amused, while on the other hand I manage to get my institutionalized audience to burst out into a chorus of cackles and other weird noises. "And I'm sure…yes me, I'm sure of something," I grin, no one getting the joke but me, "I'm sure I won't miss anything at all."
I see my salvation walking alongside a very aggravated Doc., none of it fazes me and my sense of self swells. I smile at Seth, but he's too immersed in his discussion with Van Dale to glance in my direction. I am not shaken though, and I realize that this is a very good sign since even I am recognizing it for all its worth. He's already infused me with endless warmth that I can hold onto when I'm unsure.
I've never felt like I've had my fair share of good fortune. And in this one gratifying moment I am taking back what has been kept from me most of my life. I won't even turn to look back, or cry, or watch the sad crazy faces I leave behind. And things seem cleaner somehow, like I'm ridding myself of all the distorting clutter in my mind. I direct my eyes back to my slender finger, a simple golden band infusing me with a knowledge no one could ever comprehend. Perhaps I can't either, but that's all right too. Time is plentiful for once, and I'm giddy at the prospect of spending it with this man.
Fat Bertha looks a tad bit sad as I watch her approaching me, weaving her way through the doting crazies that have surrounded me like rabid fans. "Come on," she barks with less force than she would have normally, and I'm touched. Maybe she'll miss me after all, perhaps I was the most fun to torture out of her mass of victims. I smirk at the back of her head as I follow her to my room, and pride becomes something I feel most comfortable with, as if I were its rightful owner after all.
She hisses that I need to get changed, and my heart soars. Like a blind woman ready to see daylight for the first time, I step out of my uniform of lunacy and discard it like it should've been so long ago. I glance around my grey little room, fold my bland dress rather clumsily and hand it to her. In turn Bertha thrusts a pair of jeans and a crisp white T-shirt at me. I smooth my fingertips along the soft feel of the shirt, and my eyes itch all of a sudden. Crying with joy seems the most fitting ending to this place, and I'm certain it would stun them all. And what could be more gratifying than shocking them straight out of their minds, I smile benevolently at my vengeful side.
"It's nonsense if you ask me," Fat Bertha says rather bitterly, and I'm not sure why she's being like this. "You're obviously too insane to be living anywhere, solitary is where they should keep the ones like you." I slip myself into the comfy jeans, and rather slowly turn to face her. My status winks back at me, and I reassure myself that she wishes she were like me. The wife of the boy with the dark kind eyes. "Takes one to know one." I purse my lips, embracing my position and relishing the childishness of my words. If she wants to fight, she should know that at this moment I feel like I'm saner than anyone, and I have a feeling I have claws when my wits are about me. I shut her up with my nefarious grin, and she grumbles softly as I step out of the tiny room. I've taken her might from her, and my stomach twists in euphoria as I finally see the woman I was hiding inside of me.
I see Seth at the end of the grim hallway, his face matching his surroundings. My stomach crushes my new-found bravado with fresh waves of nausea, and I listlessly tuck my hands in my pockets. A familiar sensation seems to crawl through me, in an instance my new clothes have lost their luster and my ring its shine. And as old tortured times, my fear grabs at everything I thought I owned.
"This is final Doctor, my lawyer has been perfectly clear. Since Summer is my wife I have the right of attorney here, and I'm certain this is what's best for her. I'm hiring a live-in nurse, and the rest of her needs will be met." Seth declares with so much confidence it feels like he's put out the lights in my eyes. His poise mocks me, and I can hardly breath for fear of losing what little I possess.
I want to whisper that he should know better, confidence is the cruellest prelude to failure. Suddenly it dawns on me, the beautiful amount of faith he's putting in me. In my ability to grasp at things he's hoping I'll eventually remember. I want to cry, whisper my apologies beforehand, but I'm certain he'd only be embarrassed. And I'd do anything for him, so I swallow the tingling fright traveling up my spine and try to remember what joy felt like.
"What have you actually done for my wife?" Seth commands, and Santa shivers slightly as his rage resurfaces with a vengeance. Yet all I can notice really is that he called me his wife again. It lifts everything off of my chest for some reason, and I gulp in a breath of air.
"My visits were the turning point in your therapy, and don't you forget that!" I'm enthralled by this kind man's anger, for me of all people, and yet despite that it feels so unnatural to see him rage like this for any reason.
The old man's upper lip curls with fury, but his voice doesn't change while he half hides behind the stack of charts in his arms. "I can't believe…" he swallows the insult that must've lingered at the tip of his tongue, and instead returns to his poised cool Santa-esque demeanor. Seth seems annoyed by the transition, and his curls bob angrily. I silently wish for peace, for quiet time, I can't understand it but I wish I didn't have so much riding on either of their expectations. There's so much to screw up, so many promises, I wish I didn't have to be anywhere, as I mutely watch the scene unfold.
"Wait until you live with her again, you'll better understand the situation Mr. Cohen, and then you'll feel foolish for pointing fingers. It's not easy as you might want to believe, son." My boy looks so young all of a sudden, and I could've sworn there was a hint of blush at his cheeks. His stubborn streak saves him once again, and as he presses his lips together my heart shudders in my chest in anticipation of his answer.
"We'll be just fine, without the overwhelming amounts of drugs, or visits to some dark solitary room." Seth arches a brow at the Doc, "Yes, I've heard about your professional methods, Doctor Van Dale." His voice is husky, sort of gritty and sparkling at the same time, making me imagine a mountain of unpolished gems. The sound entrances me so that I almost forget to be touched by his meaning.
"You can't handle this, I don't care what lies you convince yourself of. You can't handle the pain she has hidden inside of her. Hell," the lip-curling fury was in the old man's voice now, he wasn't wasting his time hiding anything and my world tilts a little further than usual because of it.
"She can't handle it either, so good luck with that."
I feel indignant, towards both of them, as they plot out my life and mind right in front of me. I want to scream that she isn't invisible, she isn't deaf, she is standing right here…
The two men still don't notice me, and I feel distorted because of it. Like a painting where the colors have run into each other and ruined the image…and now no one will ever look me in the eye anymore. No one will tell me what's really wrong.
I can hardly stand the guilt that's consuming me, as flickers of recent nightmares seem a little clearer to me. I recognize the look in Van Dale's eyes, and I wish it didn't make me miss someone I can't remember as well as I'd like to. His disapproving tone makes me think of my father, an ominous feeling trickles along my skin and I shake off the thought as quickly as it came.
My husband spots me standing a little bit away from them, and I let the lovely word hum through my head until I can almost feel my lips curl in a pleased smirk. Seth tries to return the smile, being the sweet man he is, yet he can't hide the discomfort in his face. He seems worried, and his big doe-like eyes endear me, yet the trust in them scares me a little. There are moments where I feel like he's the one who's lost his mind, and I'm the sane one. All because he can't see the failure I embody, while all around there's wreckage to prove him wrong. Look around you sweet boy, I want to scream, check out my powers of destruction.
Seth takes my hand in his, amazing me even still by his sheer determination to keep me around. I can't look at him, so I stare at his delicate hand wrapped tightly around mine. He's more delicate than he knows, and a smile overwhelms me as I look into his face again. I feel like I should be the one protecting him, but I'd never tell him because he'd be crushed.
"You want to get out of here," Seth says in such a fragile voice I don't know if I should answer right away, so I merely shrug. "I'm sorry," I offer, cool as the blue in the old Doc's eyes. Perhaps his words were meant to curse us…or me, making it so I don't remember what I'm about.
I hear him sigh, a man almost at the end of his rope, "For what Summer?" he asks me in a surprisingly soft voice. "I know this is going to be hard." I try for honesty, since he's too beautiful for any of my rancid lies. I nod at him, and he can't deny the fact I've lain out in front of us. I'm not easy, that's a sensation I won't ever be able to grasp onto.
"I know," I'm rewarded with his sparkly dimply smile, and I treasure this gift as if it were the last one I'd ever receive. Seth leans into me, and I relish the press of his long frame against mine.
"You look nice." He declares out of the blue, and I can't believe it makes me blush.
"Summer," my curly haired boy almost sings my name, and I look up for him. He presses his perfect mouth against mine, and I feel so still. "Who needs easy when I married you?" I chuckle despite myself, and then playfully pinch his butt. "Thanks."