Chapter Four: Schizophrenic

Alysha Taylor

Alysha Taylor sighed, entering her apartment alone. A heavy sigh was released. A strained look was on her pretty young face. She walked over too her bedside table. She took out four bottles. One had the label peeled off for her own reasons. Two held Anti-depressants, one other held sleeping pills and the other held Lithium. A drug for Manic Depression, or other wise known as Bipolar disorder. The label-lacking bottle was for her schizophrenia. She took out two from that bottle, two lithium, one anti-depressant and one sleeping pill. Though she stared at it she chose too put the sleeping pill away. She wanted too be awake for the things that the voices whispering into her head.

She wanted it all to end now, it was such a hard life she had to live and these weeks didn't help. She felt so helpless and useless. She was in love with two guys, though she knew one wasn't the one, and had a feeling the other was. The bigger dilemma was that the guy who she knew loved her with no end was they guy she didn't think was the one.

There was a corner of her room that had always been cleaned out for her only reason for it being there, a place to let her walls come down, for her vulnerability too shine through. She couldn't stay a strong woman twenty four seven. Her pillars could come crumbling down at any given time. It was how she was. They had been weakened some years back badly. About seven. Yes, that sounds about the right amount of time. Still felt like it was yesterday. Every night it seemed her dreams were horrible nightmares re-enacting that dreadful day and night.

She walked into the corner, instead of leaning onto it, head in it like a naughty child would have if his or her mother tolled her too, she turned around, leaning againced the wall as she sunk slowly too the floor. Her but hitting it gave only a soft muffled sound. She pulled her knees up to her large chest and wrapped her arms around her legs. Rocking herself back and forth, Eyes shifting wildly. She saw shadows moving. She was hallucinating. A side effect of being Schizophrenic. She was to scared that she would be tossed into a loony bin if they found out her medication for the disorder wasn't working much anymore.

The voices had started as whispers in the lab, but it had annoyed her. Greg was avoiding her eyes and her glances the whole time, looking tense and uneasy, as she must have. Greg had also only talked to her when it was absolutely necessary. It was so obvious both were uncomfortable with each other for some reason. Greg knew she was, but he thought she had found out and didn't like him. And it was about the same for Alysha.

Alysha felt so sorry for those girls that the ripper had… well 'ripped'. She had such a bad, bad past it wasn't even close to ever being funny. People would understand her tuff exterior when they first met her if they knew, so many would pity her. She didn't want pity, she wanted to forget and start all over fresh. But she still couldn't let go of the past.

When she was roughly the age of eighteen, Alysha had been kidnapped by five men she knew well. People she had called friends, and one had been that deep first love. So much for that. They beat her, pulled her too her boyfriends car and locked her in the trunk. She had scared her hands by opening her fingertips scrapping at the trunks lid. Screaming as loud as she possible could have screamed. No one came too help. She still had those nearly invisible scars from clawing the interior.

She had more scars from that night. A trigger too awaken her bipolar and schizophrenic genes, aka, she had both physical and mental effects that scarred her for the rest of her life most likely. They had taken her out too the middle of a field, it was outside of Vegas, not in the deep deserts, but too a rundown farmers field where they had ripped her clothing off. All five men had rapped her repeatedly. She screamed, but still no one had come too save her.

Then the men had pulled out weapons, knifes. To simply have fun and play with their defenceless prey. They stabbed Alysha seven times in the front, the depths varying. Her back the same, except she was stabbed nine times while crawling away and they had tossed the knifes at her using her as a practice target, laughing as if it was the latest funniest comedy to be released. Too this day if she hears anyone laugh like any of them she freaks out. Good thing none of her friends or anyone on the team did.

Her boyfriend had walked over her, stomping hard on her back, a crack was heard, and he thought it was her spine, but it was two ribs. She screamed out in more agony, tears and blood mixed on her face. She could still feel them now. He kissed her ear and a hot pain filled her back as a butcher knife was slammed into it. He laughed in a mad wild laughter and turned and left. She started to crawl away again. He and his four friends left her too die.

But she made it. Over a kilometre of dragging herself. She had pulled all but the butcher knife and another from her back, both she couldn't reach, and the butcher knife was firm in her ribs. Again her backbone was saved. She crawled to the closest house and got help. Managing to live, only a tiny hair away from her own death. And here was now. Perhaps it would have been best she died. She was a fighter, but someone can fight for only so long.

She started a rather hot bath. She liked them like that. So painful, but pain seemed to be the only thing she knew, thus why should she relax, rather than hold her breath to hold back a scream of pain from heat, instead of sigh too a warm comforting bath.

She took out a gleaming blade. Shivering at its sight. So sharp, so easy too just end it all right here and right now. Too easy. She pulled the gleaming steel blade over her pale wrists and a crimson liquid of the thick kind came out, slowly at first. But when she entered the bathtub it became quite rapid. The voices tolled her too seal her fate. She had fought on long enough. A better place was waiting for her.

She took in a deep breath and sunk under the surface. She barely heard the mad knocking.

They are too late

She tolled herself as she sucked in water; it burned her lungs and her flesh. So much pain.

"It will all be over soon" the voices in her head reassured. God she did hope that one was true. She looked out the surface above her, watching bubbles rising. She watched the blackness taking over. She didn't even hear the sound of splintering wood as the door was having someone fling themselves againced. It finally gave. Breaking down. A man ran in, she heard his faint voice of panic. She wasn't breathing. She couldn't feel her hearts fluttering much. She lost sound. She felt his attempts to revive her.

By some miracle she opened her eyes, breathing again. She saw Greg over her wet, naked form. She had been pulled from the tub; he had a look of relief wash over him as he could see she was breathing. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Greg sat slumped in the hospitals waiting room. Blood was on his clothing. It was more than just a little. He had performed CPR on Alysha and managed to get the girl he loved breathing again. He had tried stopping the bleeding. Lucky for Alysha he did for the most part. But something struck him odd. The scars all over her body. He hungered to know what they were from. A man in bloody doctors clothing walked over, Greg jumped too his feet.

"She is stabilized now," he informed Greg, who let relief fill his face, than he asked "can I see her now?" a pleading tone in his voce. The doctor hesitated. "Only family" he insisted. Greg's face fell for a second. Than surprising himself he lied without hesitation, "I'm her fiancé". Again the doctor hesitated.

"Fine. Fallow me," he said sharply. Greg fallowed eagerly.

He tolled Greg too wait outside the door, soon coming out, Greg expected to be yelled at and be tolled too go and sit in the waiting room, but he was allowed to walk in. Instead of a surprised Alysha in a weak state, there was an expecting Alysha. She looked as if she was on deaths door. Transfusions at work. He shut the door. They were alone.

Greg held back tears for his love. They stared at each other for a while. She remembered him over her before she fainted. She knew he saved her; she had tears in her own eyes. She had felt horror at remembering how she let the voices take over her. She let out a shaky sigh.

"Why?" Greg finally spoke, on the verge of tears, his eyes red rimmed, his voice weak and cracking. Alysha looked too her bandaged wrists. "I'm weak," she said letting tears fall. "I couldn't take it"

"Why couldn't you? People love you Alysha. How could you try bailing out of life? I love you, god, it would have killed me too see you die"

She looked down. Her eyes fell in light. Telling him her story. Half an hour later they both failed to notice the man who joined them, listening in. Alysha took a breath in "I love Warrick. But he's not the one. I cant bring myself too tell him that…." She started. Her voice breaking, "I fell so madly in love with you. I couldn't tell him," she sobbed.

"Is it true" a different cracking voice came. Warrick. Alysha cried harder. Now seeing what she had done. "I'm sorry. But it is" she admitted; now wanting to lie to him. He shot around, "I am sorry I ever loved you" he said, storming out in blind rage and heartbreak. Greg Sanders and Alysha Taylor were left alone.