Dark Dreams

by Don'tFallAsleep1428

(AU Freddy's Dead): In Springwood countless suicides and deaths are claiming the lives of the children and teenagers since Sept 1989. The culprit: Freddy Krueger. The authorities in the town are desperate for help. Neil Gordon has one last chance to stop Krueger and has enlisted two doctors from a nearby city. Unaware of the connection Krueger has with one of them...(plz review)

3. Maggie

Chapter 3: Maggie

Central City, Saturday 4th December.

A cold weather front had fallen upon the city over the last few days of November. The thick ice that was spread across the roads and pavements had begun to melt, while the dash of snow had begun to dissolve leaving slush behind. On the south side of the city on Franklin Drive was the Recovery Youth Shelter. It was in an underprivileged part of the city, where most of the businesses and shops in the surrounding streets were either closed or in the process of closing. The brick buildings were cracked, windows boarded up. The neon signs of the restaurants and diners were cracked, missing lightbulbs. The odd restaurant that was still in operation was scrawled with graffiti. Most of the walkways were cracked, littered with rubbish and broken needles and broken beer bottles. Sat huddled in the doorways of the inaccessible businesses and shops were drunks, both young adults and old men, along with some drug addicts who were slumped unconscious or who were anxiously trying to get another hit into their already weak, drug riddled body.

There was one or two bars that were still trading, but the clientele was mainly alcoholic or drug users. It was just another sign that the south side of the city was a place that the City Council had seemingly forgotten, left to rot away. The other parts of the city were not in bad in regard to being run-down. Most of the residential parts of the city were in the west and north areas. While the east was a more industrialised area, with warehouses and a few shopping malls.

The finances were seemingly being preferred to be put into the centre of the City, where the large high-profile businesses and more affluent trade was situated. The businessmen, lawyers, bankers, pharmaceuticals companies were all congregated there amongst the high-rise buildings, shiny glass sculpted skyscrapers, fancy bistro bars, cocktail bars, upmarket restaurants. Only the wealthy and privileged were allowed. If you had the best of health insurance, the prosperity and the connections you could easily access the medical and treatment facilities at the newly built hospitals and treatment centres.

It was a far cry from the south of the city. It was a privilege many of the parents of the teenagers did not have. They were mainly working-class families or families on government benefits that were barely scarping by, coming from tough backgrounds, involved in petty crime, drugs. Their own source of refuge was the Shelter, a place of safety from their home lives or from just being out in the street. A place they felt they could rely on, for therapeutic help, a place where they could talk to a friendly face.

The Shelter was in the middle of the road on Franklin Drive, just a mile or two from the outskirts of the city. The building had two storeys, constructed in red brick, about forty feet in length with several rectangular windows on each level of the building. Most of them were greyed or blanked out, Graffiti adorned the walls along the side of the building. At the end of the main building attached towards the right was another single storey building, again made of red brick. The large yard that had previously been a carpark was littered with rubbished and broken sofas, beds and carboard boxes. While the Shelter's van was parked in the right-hand corner of the yard. The building yard was enclosed by a large thick barbed wire fence and a small brown wooden hut was located next to the gate that led into the area.

Prior to being converted into the Youth Shelter, the building had been used as a day care centre for children. Regularly being used by workers who required daily day care. But since being closed in 1985 it was bought over by Kelly Dunard, a counsellor who through his own personal finances and City grants had purchased the building and hired several highly qualified counsellors and psychologists in order to achieve his aim of providing a Shelter for the unprivileged youth of this part of the city. Despite the success they had accomplished over the years, he had received the bad news in August 1993 that the Shelter was to lose its funding and would have to close its doors by the new year.

Despite the exterior looking derelict and shabby, the interior was slightly better. A large set of double doors lead into the building, with a long narrow corridor stretching down towards a visiting room on the left where parents and guardians would visit their children. It consisted of a few battered couches and chairs, with various therapy leaflets dotted on the tables. Past the visiting room was an opened-pan office area that had several desks, some of them cornered off from each other by large grey office cubicles. Enabling the therapist for some privacy when speaking to their patients. Across from the opened-pan office was a small office, enclosed by windows. The office belonging to Kelly. The upper levels of the shelter were the teenagers slept. There were four rooms, one large room specifically for girls that had several singe beds. While the other three rooms were allocated between the boys. Beyond Kelly's office was another narrow corridor that had a few other small offices and led to a large canteen area, a communal area for the teenagers to father – it was separated into a games room, with a TV, few games consoles, pin ball machines and a variety of books and magazines. Through a set of swinging double doors was a large locker room, with a row of dark lockers across from the doorway. Across the floor of the room was a large, padded, gym mat, about ten feet by ten. A busted grey punch bag was tossed in the corner of the room.

A lone figure stood at the far right of the room. Just like the previous several mornings they were using it for their own personal work out, a means to unwind.

The individual was a woman, aged approximately 31 years old. Their slim yet athletic frame stood at 5'4 inches and their shapely figure was a size 8. They were adorned in dark grey janes, a black tank top showing off their toned arms and a black of black combat boots. Their hair was dark brown with various tints of chestnut brown flowing through their wavey tresses that hung a few inches below their shoulder blades. Their hair hung around the side of their face like a veil, shielding their strong rounded jaw, their distinct sharp cheeks that whenever she smiled or even smirked would reveal their dimples on each cheek. Their eyebrows were perfectly arched providing more definition to her very attractive face. Her heart-shaped lips were pursed tightly together as she concentrated, clenching her hands into tight fists that were wrapped with red boxing wraps, while her wrists were encased in a few bundles of black braided bracelets that had decorative silver stars and studs.

The woman stood in a strong defensive boxing stance, with their brown eyes restricted, focusing on a neatly drawn picture of a figure they had pinned to a large grey notice board on the wall facing her. The drawing just like the countless others she had drew in the past whenever she had worked out, was used a target. It was a man, dressed in a long brown trench coat with the collars pulled up around their cold, cruel face. A smirk was displayed across their face, blue eyes were narrowed and on top of their head was cropped sandy blond hair.

She took a long deep breath as their dominate right hand and right foot was angled back from their target, allowing them to have more space to build momentum. Their right hand was raised in a tight first, and their left fist was also raised but was slightly covering their face. Their unwavering gaze was starting intently over the back of her clothed knuckles. A pair of grey headphones attached to a black wire was connected to a small silver Walkman cassette player. The cassette player was slid into the back left pocket of her jeans. She rhythmically nodded her head to the thunderous rock songs that droned into her ears. The guitar riffs echoed from the headphones as she became lost in the music. Her right fist loosened slightly, and she eagerly wiggled her fingers on her right hand a few times, with anticipation of striking out.

The lyrics boomed in her ears…

"Welcome to the jungle, it gets worse here every day

You learn to live like an animal in the jungle where we play

If you hunger for what you see, you'll take it eventually

You can have everything you want but you better not take it from me"

In time with the drums, she began to break out into her one of her boxing moves – a jab. She kept her back heel slightly lifted off the ground, both fists tightly locked facing her chin. Her hips were locked into place as she shot her left hand and quickly twisted the knuckles of her hand when her arm was extended, so that her fingertips faced the ground. Throughout the move her fist was tight and compact. It was just like how her gym teacher had shown her and how Alan would constantly remind her whenever they sparred after they had finished work. After a few more sharp, hard jabs she turned her left hand to its starting position but remained in her fighting stance. Alert and focused.

The familiar voice of Axel Rose continued to chant through the earphones as she softly whispered to the lyrics…

"In the jungle, welcome to the jungle

Watch it bring you to your knnn knne knees, knees

I'm gonna watch you bleed"

As her voice murmured the word bleed, she threw two more precise, forceful jabs towards the picture. Her voice was soft but had a low husky resonance to it as she continued to sing quietly to the lyrics. Again, she began to throw several more jabs towards the picture and smirked, revealing her dimples as she noticed the thrusts of her shots were fast, fiercer. She then positioned herself back into her boxing stance and prepared herself for another boxing move. A cross or a number two punch. It was a punch that would cross from the back to the front of her body. She placed most of her weight on her front left foot and slightly bent her knees. Yet again, her fists were closed with the fingertips facing her under her chin. Taking a deep breath, she drove her right fist forward in a straight line with her fingertips still facing the ground as her tone right arm became fully extended. As she did this she began to pivot on the ball of her right foot, rotating her hips forward. After the move she drew the right hand and her hip back to its starting position. For a few more minutes she performed this punch, again in time with the drumming beats of the new song that reverberated from the headphones. Her lips moved in time as she whispered the lyrics out loud.

"Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello

With the lights out, it's less dangerous

Here we are now, entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now, entertain us"

She quickly broke out into a combination of the jab and cross punches, performing two jabs, then two punches in quick succession. Then executing four jabs, then four cross punches. As with her previous moves, every punch was in sync with the drums of the song. After the last powerful jab, she slowly straightened up, allowing her hands to lay limply at her side and soon her reflective gave fell upon the face of the picture. Her brown eyes narrowed slightly, blinking for a mere second as they inspected the drawing. The face was now covered in blood, cuts and blue/black bruises as though she had created the injuries through her vicious punches. It was like the face of the drawing was real flesh and blood.

The woman suddenly tensed, though not out of fear. But of fervour. And soon a little grin started to tug at her lips, and she allowed her eyes to roam over the bruises and nasty cuts, noticing a trickle of blood dribbling down the left side of the chin. Her eyes darted down towards the smooth wooden floor as drops of crimson liquid began to drip from the page, pooling on the ground.

Her hands shook and trembled violently at her side, and she quickly blinked a few times. The picture then returned to normal, not a speck of blood or hint of a bruise on the colouring drawing. She frowned and let out a long-laboured breath, allowing her eyes to close as she attempted to regain her sense of clarity and control after her little episode…

The last few lyrics of Smells Like Teen Spirit bellowed in her ears, helping to calm her.

A hand reached out behind her to gently land on her left shoulder. At the very moment the fingers touched her skin, she instantly spun around and with her left opened hand she struck out at the person behind her. The back of her hand connected hard against the left cheek of a familiar face, who recoiled away in pain. She gasped and quickly unhooked her earphones from her head. "Doc! Oh god, I'm sorry! You shouldn't sneak up on me like that!"

Alan hissed and raised his left hand to gently rub at his sore cheek, a little chuckle coming from him as he replied. "Damn! I forgot how hard you can hit Maggie"

Maggie went to his side and laughed, a slight husky sound to her voice. "Come on Alan, you know I can hit harder than that!"

He smiled at her.

She threw him a devious smirk and pressed the stop button on her Walkman. Her eyes went to his face again and she noticed he was still stroking it gently. Maggie titled her head to the side and sighed, "You want me to get some ice for you?" she raised her eyebrows, then broke into a mischievous smile. Showing her dimples yet again.

Doc rolled his eyes. "No, I'm sure I'll be fine" he looked beyond her to the picture she had drawn. "Who is that?"

She twisted around to stare at the picture then back to him, "Oh, just a little picture I drew last night. You know how I like to have something or someone to aim at when I'm doing my boxing moves"

He gave a thoughtful nod and glanced over her head at the clock on the wall behind her. The time reading 9.30am. "What time are you here from?"

Maggie shrugged and slowly wiped away the sweat from her brow. "About 7.30am. I was finishing up some case files. Then I decided to work out for an hour or so"

"It's your day off Maggie" Doc shook his head, concerned. "You should be at home relaxing"

She gave another causal roll of her shoulders and quickly unpinned the picture from the noticeboard and folded away into her black denim backpack that was sat against the wall. Her right hand began to wrap the wires of her headphones around her Walkman then she unzipped the large compartment of her bag and shoved her the Walkman inside. As she turned to face Doc, she finally answered him and gave him a playful wink. "Aw, you know me Doc, no rest for the wicked!"

Though Maggie knew that he was right, she should be at home relaxing. But there was a reason for why she was working out this early on her day off, and not just that she had been here a few times during the week at 7am working out on her own. It all started at the end of August, when she had made that decision regarding her mental health. The side effects were becoming too hard to deal with. Maybe she should have confided in Alan regarding stopping her medication, but she was always stubborn. Wanting to do things her own way. She was way too independent and headstrong. He would scold her, give her that disappointed look she always hated.

But it was her problem. Not his. She hated relying on other people. No matter how she knew that they could help her she just didn't want it. For as long as she could remember she had always looked after herself, on her own.

She had believed by increasing her work outs and putting her whole concentration and focus on her case files, helping other therapists at the Shelter that it would take her mind off her condition. Maybe try and control it. But she was wrong. The incidents were becoming more frequent, more disturbing and out of control. Just like minutes before.

Her thoughts were broken as she saw Doc gesture for her to follow him to an end locker. "If you are still interested in working out, I have something we could use. I think you'll like it"

Maggie lips curled into an excited grin, "Oh, what is it?"

Doc gave her a shrewd smile and reached into his back jean pocket and took out a small silver key, locking the locker slowly. He knew that Maggie loved to do various exercises, through the gym classes such as circuits, spin classes, kettle bell classes. It had helped her mentally and physically, helping her to keep fit. She had enrolled in a few self-defence classes over the years. But ever since he brought her to that boxing club about two years ago it had perked her interest in the sport. From what she had constantly told him she would always experience this exhilarating rush when she participated in boxing moves. It also noted that it had helped her release her anger and frustrations. He had known her for so long now that he knew all her little mannerisms whenever she got irate. How her hands would curl into tight fists and shake, the way her voice would change in pitch. Like it was a deep growl.

He always knew that some type of physical sport would appeal to her. Though he was a little concerned of late at how much time she had been spending working out over the last few weeks. He had heard from the security staff and a few of his colleagues how they had seen her performing her boxing and self-defence moves until 7 or 8pm each evening the last several weeks. There was even the odd occasion Maggie would have arrived early for work around 7am and managed to get a quick work out before starting her therapy sessions. Doc knew that something was wrong. But he knew how obstinate she was. She rarely asked for help if she really needed it. It was one of her traits that he despised. She had to recognise that asking for help wasn't a sign of weakness as she believed it was.

He pushed his thoughts to the side and reached into the dark locker for a thick black boxing body protector/pad that had two whiter/red coloured pattern pads at either of the ribcage. The remaining pad covered the chest and stomach area with two adjustable straps and a re-enforced rear strap closure that could mould to any body shape. He presented it to her and raised his eyebrows. "So?"

Maggie's grin grew wider, beaming with immense enthusiasm. Her voice was tainted with vigour. "Let's spar!"

He took off his navy cardigan and she helped him slide into the boxing body pad, adjusting the straps around his back and then watched him bend back into the locker to grab two black boxing pads. He adjusted them onto his large strong hands, and she eagerly bounced back onto the mat, waiting for his instructions. "Now, I'm going to be giving you combinations of moves to do. You'll repeat the first set three times. Then the next set four times, then finally the last set five times. That okay?"

"Sweet!" Maggie clapped her hands excitedly.

He rolled his eyes. Another trait of hers was sometimes acting like a teenager. Too excitable. He stood before her and commanded "Boxing stance"

She nodded and again like her previous work out stood poised in her defensive boxing stance, her brown eyes quickly becoming constricted. Her gaze focusing on Doc as he loomed in front of her.

Doc raised the boxing pads to either side of his face. "We will start with 10 jabs, then 8 crosses. Repat three times. Remember, good posture and focus on your breathing. Never let your hands fall as that will give your attacker the chance to attack you. When you finish the sets, I'll give you ten seconds to focus on your breathing then I'll call out the next sequence"

Maggie nodded once, then the moment she heard him shout 'Go' she sprang into action. Her left fist was taut as she rammed it into the pad, one, two, three…until she struck his raised right pad ten times. Then she swiftly progressed into the cross move, thrusting her right fist forward in a straight strong line with her fingertips facing the ground as before. Her eyes were still contracted engrossed on the pad with every single punch. When the eighth cross was completed, she repeated the series of punches two more times, and just like before her eyes were full of determination and grit. Her body quickly stepped back into the boxing stance, and she inhaled deeply through her nose, then out of mouth.

Doc stared at her, silently pleased with her breathing and posture. "Good. Next, we have eight jabs and eight right hooks"

She gave another small nod.

"Go!"

Maggie took a deep breath and performed eight precisions jabs, then positioned her body into the move for the right hook. Her elbow was bent at 90-degrees, and she punched forward with her right fists bringing her forearm completely in front of her, allowing it to bend as though it was resting on a shelf in line with, her shoulders. Like with her previous punches her fingertips faced the ground. In time with her punch her feet had pivoted to the right, bringing her left heel down and her right heel up in sync. Her hand and hips had moved as one, while her left fist was still tucked and at the ready under her eye level. Her fist had impacted hard into the side of the right pad Doc was holding, and she repeated this move seven more times. Then like before replicated the set of punches three more times.

"Last one" Doc said with a smile, seeing the trickle of sweat falling down her face. She was pushing herself hard. "We have eight upper cuts, then eight slips. I'll be coming left first when we are doing the slips. Go!"

Maggie slightly lifted her back heel off the ground, her weight mostly on her front left foot with her knees slightly bent. She swivelled on her back heel, turning her hip and knee forward, then her right fist thrust upwards with her elbow still bent and fingertips facing her as the it connected hard with the underside of the boxing pad that Doc had held faced downwards for her. In her mind she imagined that the pad was the opponents chin, the sound of bones crunching echoed in her mind. Like before her left hand was still curled into a fist, tucked and ready underneath her eye level. After returning her right hand and hip to their starting positions, carried out the move again. Then again…

After the eight upper cut, she resumed her stance and then titled her right heel slightly off the ground with her body weight mostly on her left foot with her knees hunched. She stared attentively at the pads and then slipped to the right, bending her knees as she stuck her butt backwards to bend at the waist. Then quickly leaned to the right as he swung the pad at her head. But due to her movement she had avoided his attack. Again, she continued these spar moves until Doc called out.

"Stop!"

Maggie wheezed slightly and Doc discerned that her breathing was a little unsteady. "You'll need to concentrate on your breathing techniques a little more. You had it right at the start of the moves. But during that last sequence you became a little out of breath"

She perched her hands on her hips and nodded, "I know. Thanks Doc, I really needed that"

Doc unhooked the boxing pads from his hands and glanced at Maggie as she unravelled her hands for the boxing straps. "You know if you want to spar sometime during next week after work let me know. I'll be working to 5.30pm this week"

She walked over to him and helped to unstrap the boxing body pad from his bulky frame. "I'll definitely be taking you upon on that"

He smiled and left the boxing equipment into the locker and securely locked it. After placing his key back into his pocket, he averted his gaze towards Maggie as she knelt over her backpack, placing her boxing hand wraps into the small front compartment. His lips curled downwards into a frown of alarm, as his eyes roamed over her arms and hands. They were trembling vehemently, but not just that it was her whole upper body that was shaking. "Maggie, are you okay?"

Maggie kept her head lowered, attempting to alleviate her trembling by taking quick, short breaths. She chewed her bottom lip and replied. "Yep. I'm okay"

He sighed in aggravation. Knowing that she was lying. "Look, if there is anything you need to tell me Maggie. You know you can"

She grounded her teeth momentarily and straightened up, "Nothing is wrong Alan" she then glanced up at the wall, towards the clock and cursed. "Shit! I'm going to be late"

"Late?" Doc asked.

Maggie reached into her bag and pulled out a black/grey checked shirt and pulled it on, then grasped the strap of the bag. "I said I would meet Diane for coffee at 10.30" she hooked the bag over her should and threw him a quick glance as she hurried towards the doorway. "Enjoy the rest of your weekend. I'll see you Monday"

Doc stood slightly shocked by her abrupt exit. There was no doubt about it, something was wrong with her, and he was going to find out.

Maggie took long strong strides as she marched through the corridors of the shelter. She passed by a few of the teenagers and forced a smile in their direction as she passed them. She positioned her bag around her right waist and slipped her slim left hand into the bag to pull out a dark grey scarf and her black leather jacket that reached her waist and frantically pulled them on. Her eyes darted up towards a set of double doors and she pushed them opened, a cold blast of air washed over her face as she stepped into the long porch. Across from the porch down a few steps was the small security hut where a tall burly black man smiled at her.

She wrapped the scarf around her neck and gave him a little wave as she walked past the hut towards the gate. "See you later Harry"

"Safe home Dr Burroughs"

Maggie exhaled long and hard as she turned right, marching down the decrepit street passing by a few alcoholic and drug addicts as they lay huddled in a few doorways of a few abandoned stores. She ignored their weak pleas as they begged for money and crossed the desolate street to an intersection passing by a few boarded up grocery stores and pharmacies. As she came to the end of an apartment complex she slowed to a stop and lowered her brown eyes towards her hands that were quivering uncontrollably. Her eyes snapped closed as she inhaled slowly through her nose then long and hard out of her mouth. She repeated this for a few more minutes then rummaged through her bag again, searching for a small yellow medication bottle that read Valium 2mg. She unscrewed the top and shook out two small white tablets and dry swallowed them. Normally she would only use the Valium to help her get to sleep, but she had been recently taking more of them to alleviate her tremors and her increasing anxiety over the last several weeks. It was her hope that by increasing her exercising and workouts that it would help ease her tremors and apprehension. But to her disillusion it wasn't easing it at all. Deep down she knew she had to disclose what was happening to her to Doc, especially since she had stopped taking her other medication. But she hated the way he would give her that look of disappointment, and the flicker of anger that would cross his face that she couldn't tell him what was going on with her. He had known her so long, since she was sixteen years old when they first met in Mercy Memorial Hospital when she began her therapy with him. But Maggie was stubborn and very determined to battle through these problems on her own.

She took one last calmative breath and then saw a cab turning into the street and chased after it, waving it down…

X x x

In the middle of the Central City, two miles from the high-class business was Mount Merrion park. Set in the middle of a man-made lake that was about four miles in circumference with a sandy gravely path along the edge. There were long winding concrete walkways that meandered from the several exits of the park through finely trimmed trees and bushes towards the edge of the lake. The ground was lightly frosted and had a small layer of snow that was turning to slush. Near the main entrance of the park was as large wooden bandstand, and several wooden benches and picnic tables. A yellow cab pulled up and Maggie quickly exited the car, throwing the strap of her bag over her right shoulder as she huffily dashed into the park and turned to the right at the bottom of the path towards a small café about twenty feet away. She pushed the large glass doors opened and peered amongst the occupants looking for her. The café was large, with several small metal framed tablets with spirally designed chairs. A small, scented candle was on the middle of each table with an artificial rose in a porcelain vase. Soft music played from three speakers perched in the corner of the room. To the far right was a long wooden counter with various coffee making machines as a few of the employees hurried making various coffee, cappuccinos, tea, lattes.

Maggie slowly craned her gaze to her left and saw whom she was looking for. Diane Burroughs, her adoptive mother. She was in her early fifties, with short brown hair, dressed impeccably in light blue skirt, cream blouse and light blue jacket. She wore pearl earrings and matching bracelet and necklace. The woman looked up from her coffee and smiled warmly, waving over at her.

Maggie chewed her lips for a moment and walked over to the table, giving a weak smile as she sat down.

"Maggie dear, I'm so glad you could come" Diane smiled.

"Yeah" Maggie said aloofly coolly. "So, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Well, yes" Diane began, "But I wanted to see you. It's been so long dear. How are you?"

Maggie crossed her right leg over her left, indifferently tapping her fingers against her knee. "I'm fine Diane"

The older woman sighed sadly at the use of her name being used, "I wish you would stop calling me that Maggie"

"What?" Maggie scoffed, "It is your name"

"You know I always wished that you would call me mother" Diane replied softly a sullen frown crossing her face.

Maggie looked at her for a moment, then turned away slightly as her hair hid her eyes as she rolled them in aggravation. "Look" she began and swung her face back towards her. "You know why I don't call you mother. I tried to when I was younger, but it doesn't sit well with me. Okay?"

Diane nodded slowly. "I know. I've missed you Maggie, the last few months you haven't been returning my calls. I've left you several messages"

"I've just been busy" She shrugged her shoulders and then began to fiddle with her black braided bracelets, becoming a little tedious. Maggie though knew the real reason why she was avoiding contacting Diane. It was due to her the number of episodes she was experiencing and the mere fact that they were getting worse too. She knew she had to keep her distance from people, even her adoptive mother. If she discovered, she was having her incidents again then Diane would immediately contact Doc and he would instantly be on her back. Maggie wanted to tell him in her own time.

Diane took a sip of coffee, "Busy with the shelter?"

"Yes" Maggie replied quickly.

"How are things with the Shelter?" Diane asked.

"Well, it's closing in four weeks' time. God knows where the kids will end up" Maggie sighed desolately.

"What about the new hospitals and treatment centres in the city centre? There seems to be good facilities from what I heard"

"I highly doubt their parents could afford the medical bills. When they are under our care in the Shelter, their parents pay nothing. Kelly has put so much of his own money into that shelter. Now the council are fucking him over, not giving him any funding. The kids are going to be left behind. Moved from care facility to facility, care home to care home" Maggie seethed, a gleam of ire flashed in her eyes as she thought of how her patients were not being left to fend for themselves. "It's not fucking fair"

"I'm sure they will be placed in a permanent care home" Diane tried to reassure her.

Maggie gave a sardonic laugh. "Believe me they won't Diane" and her mind began swiftly to meander back to her own childhood, at how things were for her. She vaguely remembered being transferred from orphanage to orphanage, care home to care home. God knows how many foster carers she went to. For several years she had no sense of security, had no caring home environment. She felt no love. Like no-one cared for her. These kids would go through the same shit she went through. Even now she sometimes felt unloved, unwanted.

"When is the Shelter closing?" she heard Diane ask.

"The 3rd of January" Maggie looked down at her lap and played with her bracelets again.

"How is your job search going? Have you anything lined up?"

"It's going okay" she looked up briefly. But it was a lie. Her job search was going nowhere. The prospect of being in new employment by the time the Shelter closed was very slim. There was the strong possibility that she was going to rely on government benefits. How the fuck was she going to afford her rent on her apartment, her bills?

"Maggie if you need any help financially then please ask" Diane noticed Maggie's grim disposition and then asked. "Would you like to spend some time with me over Christmas?"

Maggie abruptly shook her head in discord, "No, you know I don't like Christmas. I'll just spend it on my own. I might go to the cabin at Dylan Lake if I could maybe borrow the keys? I'd like to do some hiking if the weather is good"

"On your own?" Diane raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Yeah" Maggie glared at her and gripped the edge of the table with her left hand, becoming slightly tense, irritated. "You know I like being on my own Diane. Best company there is. Just me"

Diane sighed and shook her head, hating how tenacious Maggie was. "But it's not good for you dear. You need some company, especially during the holidays. It's not healthy to be stuck in that apartment of yours all the time. I mean, anytime you have off from the Shelter all you do is sit in that apartment"

"And?" Maggie gave a causal shrug. "It like it. Just me, my music, my drawings. I'm happy as can be"

"Do you ever think about settling down sweetheart? Maybe that is what you need. A nice man to fall in love with, share your life with" Diane mused.

"Oh, no thanks!" Maggie immediately dismissed this suggestion. "Me and relationships don't go. You know how my last relationship went; it was a fucking disaster. I like my independence, not having to rely on a man to make myself happy!"

Diane leaned forward in her seat, "Maybe you haven't met the right man yet. I always believe there is someone out there for someone"

Maggie laughed at this statement, her voice raspy and low. "Well, I don't think there is someone for me. Not the way I am"

Stretching out her right hand, Diane tried to grasp Maggie's left hand that was on the table. But the moment her fingers brushed Maggie's hand; the woman jerked her hand away. Not wanting her reassurance. It was one thing that Maggie had never gotten used to in her life, affection from people. The way that people would try to get close to her, emotionally and intimately. She always found it hard.

"Maggie, what I said earlier about your job situation. I can give you money if you need it" Diane offered again.

"I'll be fine" Maggie replied curtly and then changed subject. "Anyway, how are you?"

"I'm fine Maggie dear. I have some news to share with you" Diane glimpsed at her gold-plated watch, growing slightly anxious as it was nearing the time, he said he would meet them both. She knew that Maggie would be furious, seeing as the last time she was in his company three years ago things didn't turn out well. Just to put it bluntly, there was a vicious shouting match, the main instigator being Maggie. The anger and resentment that Maggie had towards him was still raw, it appeared it had never gone away. Diane was desperately hoping that they could at least have sort of conversation. But due to Maggie's hot-headed temper she knew it was a risk.

"News?" Maggie discreetly grasped the bottom of her shirt and tugged at the material. A sign she was growing a little concerned. "What news is that?"

"I think it would be better if we both told you" Diane replied.

"Both?" she looked up towards Diane and saw that she was looking past her at a figure who was approaching their table.

Maggie swirled around in her seat and her jaw suddenly became clenched, locked in place as her eyes glowered in indignation at the tall man who stood before her. He had a greying beard and moustache, dressed neatly in a navy suit, and grey shirt, aged in his late 50's. It was her adoptive father, Martin Burroughs. He gave a thinly lipped smile. "Hi, Maggie"

She shot Diane an enraged glare and snarled. "You tricked me!" Maggie quickly snatched her bag from the ground and rushed from her seat, brushing past Martin out into the fresh air. She heard their footsteps behind her and then Martin calling her name.

"Maggie please!"

She ignored him and continued onwards, shaking her head in disgust. Soon, Diane's voice called out again beckoning her to wait. "Please Maggie, we just need to talk to you!"

Maggie snarled and skidded to a halt near the edge of the lake, beside a few benches and whirled around to face them. She felt her face reddened, her fingers curling inwards to her palms as she grounded her teeth together. Her eyes narrowed in fury as a tenseness crept over her muscles. Anger slowly engulfing her. "What the fuck is it?" her voice had deepened into a low growl.

Martin calmly took a breath, taking a few steps towards her. "Maggie, I know we haven't seen each other in a few years. That our last conversation didn't end too good. But I really want to be part of your life again"

Maggie glowered at him, sickened at his admission. "You want to me part of my life again? Well, you have your own fucking life in Cleveland with Jane and Peter! Your perfect fucking family!"

"Things haven't been working out the last few years or so with me and Jane" He quickly replied, "We've just recently separated"

"Oh really?" Maggie gave a sly smile, relishing in this piece of news. "Well, if you expect any sympathy from me, then you are fucking mistaken. I don't give a shit!"

"Your father is moving back to Central City" Diane interrupted.

Maggie's jaw clenched again, and she then sneered at them both. "Martin is NOT my father. And you are not my mother, or have you both forgotten?"

"We will always see you as our daughter" Diane bluntly responded. "No matter what you think Maggie"

She scoffed and placed her hands on her hips, glaring at Martin. "Well, I still remember what you said to me when I was sixteen. Don't you remember Martin?"

"I never meant what I said Maggie" Martin tried to defend himself, "Me and your mother were going through a difficult time. You know how hard it was for us"

"For you?" Maggie shouted and quickly clenched and unclenched her fists at her side. A part of her wanting to gut him where he stood. How dare he think that. "What do you think was happening to me? Did you ever think what I was going through? All that shit I had to go through since I was thirteen years old. The therapy, all those horrific episodes I was having. I was terrified, I had no idea what was happening to me. Then there were the times I had to stay in hospital, the bouts of depression and how I nearly…." She drew a sharp intake of breath, trying to blank out that day from conjuring up in her memories. "I needed you both, but you said I was a disruptive teenager. That I was a fuck up. That it was mistake for you both to adopt me and that you didn't want to adopt me. You only did it to keep Diane happy!"

He frowned and took a step forward trying to gather the words to explain.

But she glared at him, her mind deviating as she felt her right-hand slip into her right front pocket to curl around a blade handle of her switchblade and eased it out of her jeans. There was a quick flicker of silver through the air as she brought the metal across his flesh, along his jugular and he gagged, gurling as his hands grasped at his decimated skin. Her brown eyes widened in captivation at the blood that spurted from his severed flesh and slowly a cruel grin played at the corner of her lips…

As soon as it began, the episode ended, and she blinked. The flesh on Martin's skin had returned to normal, unblemished. Maggie took a long deep breath and lightly patted her jean pocket, feeling the bulge from her small switchblade hidden in the front compartment of her jeans. She heard Martin's voice droning on, his voice appearing to be muffled as she regained her focus, coming back to reality. His words were lost to her, as he tried to explain, to apologise. But she quickly cut in, "You know, I was devastated when you said that to me. You made me feel like shit! Like I was unwanted. And you know maybe you are right! Who would want me? The other care homes didn't, the other foster homes didn't want me! Maybe I am a mistake! Maybe I should have never been born!"

Diane gasped, stunned by Maggie's despondent attitude. "Maggie please don't think that!"

"Just piss off!" Maggie hissed, "Both of you just fuck right off!"

She turned and ran, her boots slamming hard on the concrete as she exited the park. Her breathing was heavy and short as she just ran, not caring where to. Just as long as she was away from them. Fuck them. Who the hell did they think they were? They weren't her parents. Oh, they may have taken her in, adopted her when she was twelve years old. But they never really knew her or understood her. No one did. They may in their eyes see her as their daughter, but to her they were strangers. She knew they only took her in out of fucking pity. Poor little Maggie, the little girl with brown hair in those pigtails.

Her frantic running slowed to a stop, and she leaned against a bench, again more thoughts and emotions colliding together. She knew since an early age it was better off to be alone. The closer you got to people, opening your heart to them, allowing them into your life, sharing your emotions with them, then it would just be the opportunity for them to screw you over. To hurt you and abandon you. Just the way she had been discarded throughout her childhood. By the care workers in the care homes, the fosters carers and of course how could she forget? Her parents. Whoever they were. So, what was the point in forming close, meaningful relationships in your life? People never really cared about you, do they? It was just an act...

Maggie knew she was better off alone.

x x x

Two hours later…

Across in the west of the city, not far from her own apartment was Maggie's local bar where she would have frequently visited. However, she would only visit this establishment on her own. Her place to drink away her worries when the occasion called for it. An Irish bar named Murphy's. It was situated in the corner of an intersection of two long streets. It was quite large inside, with a long bar, with several large red leather stools. There were three billiards/pool tables and a few red leather booths along the left of the bar, while a few small circular wooden tables were located at the back of the bar near a small dancing area beside a raised stage area where local artists and bands would play at the weekends. Three large lamps hung from the ceiling, shedding light in the darkened room. The only dwellers were Maggie, the barman, and a few other male regulars who were participating in a game of pool. The time was just past 1pm.

Maggie sat perched on one of the stools at the bar, her demeanour dour as her head hung gloomily over the counter. There were three empty Budweiser bottles in front of her along with three empty shot glasses, beside an ashtray that had three small, crushed cigarette butts. Her brown hair was yet again dangling along the side of her flushed, shaking face as she grasped a fourth bottle of beer in her left hand. Her right hand rested on the wooden bar and her sharp fingernails were scratching and clawing at the wood, creating four small incisions parallel to each other. She raised the tip of the bottle to her quivering lips and took a long refreshing drink. She hummed along to a faint rock song that played from the juke box. The heated quarrel from earlier in the park ran through her mind. It appalled her how Diane could be so fucking underhanded and bring Martin to visit her like that. Did she not understand how those words he said to her as a teenager had hurt her? It may have been fifteen years ago, but those words were still in her mind. She would never forget it. There was one aspect of her personality that showed her stubbornness and that was how she never forgot if people hurt her. Either physically, emotionally or psychologically. She always held a grudge.

Her sullen gaze looked up at the barman who lingered a few feet from her right, busy washing and cleaning empty glasses from the previous night. She drank the rest of her beer eagerly and then raised the empty bottle, waving it at him. "Bob, another beer please?"

He placed down a pint glass and wiped his hands on his old black ACDC rock t-shirt and walked over to a small fridge, "You want anything to eat Maggie?" he noticed that she was drinking way too much than normal. Especially at this time of the day.

"Nope" she shook her head quickly. "Beer will do just fine. And oh…" she tapped the bottom of the bottle against the shot glass. "Same again if you will"

Bob gave a curt nod. "Okay"

Maggie grabbed her opened packet of Marlborough cigarettes, peering inside to see that 8 remained from the packet of 20. She pulled out a thin white cigarette along with her red lighter that was hidden inside and lit it up. The white cigarette was rested between her right index finger and idle finger as she zealously took a long drag, then titled her head back slightly and blew out a swirling plume of smoke. Her eyes watched intently as the smoke spun in the air evaporating into nothing.

As her drinks were placed in front of her Maggie gave a nod of appreciation and then clasped the shot glass in her hand, sniffing the vodka quickly then raised it to Bob. "Here's to getting shit-faced!"

He gave a little smile, but it was of concern as she swigged the shot back in one go, hissing sharply as the alcohol hit her throat. With one last worried glance at her he returned to washing the glasses.

Maggie again lowered her head, taking a quick gulp of her beer and again her mind began to drift to her past. Going over and over the numerous times she had been moved. For some reason she couldn't remember the first care home or orphanage she was in. Her recollection of that time was lost, repressed. Much like most of her childhood. The only events in her childhood that she remembered was being transferred to Lancaster when she was about six years old, then to Zanesville when she was eight, then Greensboro when she was ten and then finally to Central City when she had just turned eleven years old. There was so much disruption, uncertainty in her childhood. When she was in those towns and cities, she was constantly moved between care homes and foster families. But the time she had spent with foster families were short and abrupt before she was sent back to the Care Home. The times spent in her foster homes was perhaps only a few weeks, not even months. No wonder she felt rejected and lost. No one wanted her, no one loved her.

She growled to herself and mumbled quietly, taking another long drink of her beer.

The door to the bar opened, oblivious to her, as Doc entered the establishment and quicky walked over to the end of the bar as Bob approached him. "Hi, Alan"

"I'm here for Maggie" Doc forlornly looked over to her as she sat several feet from them. Still unaware he had entered. "How is she?"

"Not good. I asked her what was wrong. She won't talk to me" Bob glanced over his shoulder at the woman, "How did you know she was here?"

"Her mother phoned the Shelter. Said they had a fight. I came here on a hunch" Doc glimpsed again at Maggie, seeing her greedily drink her beer and snub out her cigarette in a small grey ashtray. "How much drink has she had?"

"That's her fifth beer and her fourth vodka shot. I have offered her food. But she said no"

"What time has been here from?" Doc asked.

Bob glanced at his watch, "I'd say about 11.45am. Just after I opened. She came in asked for a drink. I tried to talk to her, but she just blanked me. I have noticed that her hands are trembling. Really badly"

"Okay. I'm going to bring her back to the shelter" Doc quietly walked over to Maggie and whispered, "Hi Maggie"

She lifted her intoxicated gaze towards him, and smile grew across her face. "Alan!" she then chuckled light-heartedly. "So, nice of you to join me!"

He pulled up a seat beside her and was about to speak when she frantically gesticulated towards Bob, "Two more beers and two vodka shots!"

"Maggie, I think you've had enough" Doc sighed.

"Oh, no" Maggie grinned and took a long slug of her beer, "The day is only starting!"

"Your mother phoned me- "

"Now" Maggie's voice was sharp, "before you go any further. Diane Burroughs is not my mother. She's just some woman who out of pity took me in when I was twelve years old. You know that. And as for that bastard…"

Doc stared at her eyes, seeing the coldness that tainted them. "Diane told me that you had an argument with your- "

Again, Maggie cut him off. "Don't even dare of calling him my father. That's not who he is!"

He nodded. "Okay. You had a fight with Martin"

"Yep, oh Diane was very sly. Pretending that she wanted to speak to me. But all she wanted was for me to meet with her so Martin could show up. Try and worm his way back into my life. Well, that will never happen" Maggie's eyes constricted in ire. "He left my life when I was sixteen years old. He should know that I don't want anything to do with him"

"Diane said that he's moving back to Central City"

Maggie nodded and grabbed the new bottle of beer that Bob placed in front of her. "Yeah"

"Did she say why?" Doc left his beer untouched.

"He split up with Jane" she gave a bitter laugh. "It must be a habit of his. Abandoning people. Must be good at it"

He watched as she shakily lifted the vodka shot and chugged it back. She then looked at his untouched drink. "You not having that?"

Doc gently clutched her right shoulder and turned her to face him. "Maggie, something is wrong and it's not just that argument you had with Diane and Martin"

Maggie quickly snatched his vodka shot and downed it. Her body swayed slightly. "Nothing is wrong" she said flatly. "Just had a bad morning, that's all"

"I want you to come back to the shelter with me"

"No, I'm fine here" she disagreed. #

"Is there anything you want to tell me?" Doc persisted, "I mean it Maggie, you can tell me anything"

Her eyebrows furrowed, a feeling of guilt washing over her and then quicky disappeared. Despite her coldness that she was displaying towards him, she knew that deep down he was looking out for her. She had such hatred, resentment towards Martin and there were times in her life that she wasn't that kind to Diane, but Maggie always felt she could rely on Alan. He had been through everything with her and helped her in so many ways. Psychologically by helping her through her years of therapy. Academically by providing her with extra tuition when she was at university to obtain her degree in Counselling Psychology and assisted her in gaining good positions in a few hospitals as a counsellor after graduating from. In a way Maggie seen him more than a work colleague, more than her old therapist. He was like a father figure. But she was reluctant to let him know about what was happening to her in the last few months. She knew he would be annoyed, perhaps angry at her.

"I'll be back in a few minutes" she took another drink from her beer, "If you don't want your beer, I'll take it"

He watched with concern as she staggered away from her seat, passing by the pool tables to a small doorway that lead to the toilet areas. As she passed by one of the men, she caught the alluring look he gave her. She ignored him and made her way into the female toilets and entered a grey coloured cubicle. Her hands quivered as she pulled down the seat of the toilet and drearily sat down, allowing her hair to shield her face. A quiet sniffle came from her as she clasped her hands into tight fists, trying to ease her tremors. But it failed. Her body shook and she felt her vision becoming blurry, distorted as she softly sobbed. Despite this hard, tough exterior she exhibited to everyone, she had always felt alone, depressed. How could she not? It all stemmed from her childhood, her teenaged years. She felt abandoned by everyone. Because of this she would never allow herself to become close to anyone emotionally. It frightened her. The way she had pushed people away throughout the years had made her in some way feel emotionless. It was as though she felt she could never love someone or care for someone, just like she believed that no-one loved her.

In her mind she was destined to die alone…

Maggie let out another anguished sob and slithered her right hand into her front pocket, taking out her small black switchblade and pushed the side button to allow the blade to click open. Her brown eyes tightened in wonder as she raised the blade to turn the metal to the right, then the left. A thin gleam of light from the blade shone over her face briefly and she smirked. She lowered her gaze to her left hand and shoved the bracelets onto the floor, seeing the faint white scar over her wrist. A scar she had made so many years before. It would only take one quick flick of the blade and she could open that wound, then there would be no more pain. No more misery and heartache. Who would miss her? No-one.

Her right hand shook violently as she pressed the tip of her knife to the old scar, above her blue arteries and veins. Just one little slice and it would be over. There would be no more Maggie…

Maggie gritted her teeth and suddenly her eyes snapped shut, another cry of despair leaving her, and she sensed her grip on her knife faltering and there was a clutter as the knife felt to the floor.

She breathed heavily and agitatedly combed her hands through her messy hair, over and over. Fuck, she needed help. There was no way she could continue living like this. Deep down she didn't want to die, but she didn't want to feel like this anymore. Terrified. She knew that the hallucinations would increase, become more intense and out of control. The last thing she needed was being admitted to hospital again. As much as it frustrated her to ask for help, she knew she had to.

Doc looked to his left as Maggie slid back into her seat, her bracelets back on her left wrist. She nudged him gently in his side and held out her switchblade. "Take that away from me"

His mouth parted in dismay as he quickly took the blade from her and slid it into his brown leather coat pocket. "You are coming to the shelter with me. You're going to get some sleep and then we are going to talk"

She grabbed her beer. "Can I finish this please?"

"Make it quick"

Maggie quickly raised the beer to her lips and took a long gulp, downing it in one go. She sighed drunkenly and withdrew a few twenty-dollar bills from her back pocket and placed them on the bar. "Thanks Bob!"

Bob walked over to them, "Look after her Alan"

"I will" he replied and bent down to lift Maggie's bag in his left hand, while he gently took a firm hold of her left arm with his right. She tottered a little unsteadily on her feet as they walked towards the exit, walking by the man who had checked her out earlier. His lips curled into a cunning grin as he playfully landed his opened right palm against her ass in a hard smack and gave a wolfish whistle.

Despite her drunken disposition, Maggie shrugged Doc's hand from her arm and spun around so fast that the man didn't have time to react as she swung her tight right fist hard into his cheek, crashing across the side of his nose. Her voice came out in snarl as she hissed. "Motherfucker"

The injured man staggered back, and Maggie swiftly grabbed a nearby pool cue and snapped it in half over her raised right knee, then in one fierce plunge she jabbed the broken cue into his chest. A vile smile grew across her face, and she giggled…

"Maggie!"

The sound of her name being called snapped her out of her trance and she blinked, looking at the man as he nursed his busted nose. His chest was untouched, unharmed. He glared at her in surprise, not expecting her to react in such a way.

Maggie flinched as Doc swung her around, tugging her back. He looked into her brown eyes, seeing the feral gleam that devoured them. She twisted around as he dragged her towards the exit, her eyes twinkled with mischief as she lifted her right hand and mockingly blew the men at the pool table a kiss. Her fingers wiggled at them as she flaunted them a seductive smile, "See you later boys!"

Doc shook his head in disgust. "Maggie, come on!"

Her raspy laughter echoed in the bar as Doc hauled her outside into the cold afternoon. Once the air hit her, she groaned, as a wave of nausea hit her. He crossed the road to his parked car and helped her into the back seats, where she exhaustedly passed out.

X x x

Maggie groaned as she came to, a pounding headache gripping her as she sluggishly sat up on Doc's sofa in his spacious office. He turned around on his chair at this desk and handed her a cold bottle of water. "How are you feeling?"

She unscrewed the bottle and took a long drink, then replied. "Like fucking shit" her eyes darted to the clock on the wall that read 6pm.

Doc folded his arms. "No wonder the amount of alcohol you drunk!"

She lightly rubbed her temple and asked with a little smirk, "Did I behave myself?"

"What do you think?"

Maggie laughed and the memory of her hitting the guy in the bar flashed before her, "I'll never learn"

"Luckily, I phoned the bar when I got you here. Bob said that the guy won't be pressing charges. He knew what he did was wrong"

"Of course, he knew!" Maggie sneered, "Fucking asshole!"

Doc pulled his chair closer to the sofa and glared at her, "Now, tell me what is happening Maggie? Don't give me any bullshit. I know you"

She took another sip of her water and shrugged.

Doc continued. "I also phoned Diane after bringing you here. She said she hasn't seen you since the end of August?"

"I told her I was busy"

"That's not an excuse!" Doc shook his head. His eyes fell to her arms that were trembling again. "I know that you've been having episodes Maggie"

She cast him a confused look, "No, I haven't"

"Don't lie Maggie. You had one in the bar, didn't you? It was after you hit that guy! You were in a trance staring at him. I have seen you have episodes before. Remember?

Her face dropped to her lap.

"I take that as a yes. How long has the medication haven't been working?" Doc asked.

Maggie slumped back in her seat. "I stop taking the haloperidol. I can't cope with the side effects. I've been getting blurred vision, suffering from dizziness, insomnia. The headaches were awful. I just stopped taking them"

He groaned in aggravation, "What did you not tell me?"

"I knew how you would react" she intertwined her fingers of her hands anxiously.

"How long were the side effects affecting you?"

"Eighteen months" Maggie avoided his gaze.

Doc shook his head in disappointment. "When did you stop taking the haloperidol? A few weeks?"

Her fingers tightened around each other in panic. "Um, longer than that"

"How long Maggie?" he demanded.

"Three months"

"Jesus Christ, Maggie! Why did you not say anything to me?" Doc's voice was tainted with dissatisfaction

She leaned forward and shook her head, "I hate relying on people! I despise having to take this medication" her hands then took up their habit of combing through her hair. Showing how anxious she was. "I just want to wake up one day and just feel normal. That I don't need to take anymore of these medications! I've been on them since I was sixteen years old. First the Trifluoperazine until I was twenty-four, then Haloperidol. I thought things were going well, I was working in the Shelter, got my doctorate in January 1992. Then the side effects began. When I stopped taking the medication, I thought that by maybe working out more, doing those meditations you showed me that it would help stop the hallucinations. But they're just getting worse!"

Doc sighed sadly and rose from his seat, to sit next to her. She recoiled slightly as he gently rubbed her back to sooth her. "Do you need some Valium? For your tremors?"

She glanced at her shivering hands and reached down for her backpack for her tablets "I have some in my bag. That's why I haven't seen Diane for the last three months. I knew that I would end up having an episode in front of her"

"How many have you been experiencing?"

"Between 1 and 3" Maggie chewed her lips for a moment and quickly popped 2 tablets in her mouth before swallowing them with a mouthful of water.

"Per week?"

She looked away as she muttered. "Per day"

Doc glared at her. "This is bad Maggie!"

"Don't I fucking know it!" Maggie snapped abruptly. Then apologetically shrugged her shoulders.

He left the sofa and crossed the room to a small grey filing cabinet and bent down to pull open the bottom drawer. She watched with curiosity as he lifted out a brown file about an inch thick. Doc then settled back into his chair at his desk. Maggie then spoke looking down at the file as he laid it on the table. "You still have my therapy file?"

Doc nodded and opened a file pad, then grabbed a pen. Ready to write down some notes. "I am going to arrange for you go get onto new medication"

Maggie inquisitively reached over to the file and opened it to the first page, reading the date – 14th May 1978. "God, nearly sixteen years since I've known you, Alan! It's been fun, you must admit it!"

"Yeah" he rolled his he eyes. "It's been memorable. How is the Celexa medication? Still helping you, yes?"

"Yes. I know I had a little bout of anger earlier when I saw Diane and Martin. But that was just because of the situation I was in. Otherwise, I've had no anger outbursts. They are under control"

He scribbled down some notes. "That is a good a sign. What about the depression?"

"I've just been down because of my hallucinations. I know that if I get the episodes under control, my mood will improve. I do keep taking the fluoxetine from time to time. Maybe once every two to three days" Maggie felt lightheaded as the Valium began to take effect. She slanted her spine back into the sofa a sense of serenity overcoming her.

Doc glanced at her, seeing she was more relaxed. "Listen, we will try you on 2nd generation anti-psychotic drugs. You know that we have been using 1st generation. But second-generation medication can affect serotonin levels. They could help you in the long term. They can help you as it seems your body can no longer respond or tolerate the first-generation antipsychotics"

"What do you recommend?" Maggie took a long deep breath. "Closapine or Asenapine?"

"Have you been reading up on this?" Doc gave a little smile.

"Yeah, a little"

"Closapine. We will try that. On Monday we'll go to see Dr Henderson for your new prescription"

Maggie nodded. "But I don't want him to give me a lecture. Just get him to prescribe the tablets and that's it. How long would it take for the Closapine to work?"

"About a few weeks. But keep doing your meditations, your work outs. What about your dreams?" Doc turned around to face her, "Any nightmares?"

"No, nothing. I've been using those dream techniques you taught me years ago. You know, I haven't had a bad dream in years. Thanks for your expertise in dream therapy and lucid dreaming! And I don't care, you are still a hippie!" Maggie teased.

He smiled and wrote down a few more sentences. "When you start taking the new medication, just cut down on the alcohol. It won't help. When did the side effects start Maggie?"

"Um…" she mused for a moment, "About March 1992. Over the months they gradually began to get worse. I know I should have told you. I was just you know…"

"Afraid?" Doc finished for her.

Maggie averted her gaze. "I hate this, Doc; I hate being so helpless"

"Don't be ashamed Maggie. You should never be scared to ask for help"

She nodded, "Listen, I need something to focus on Doc when the Shelter closes. I mean, look you have that new job you're going to. I keep trying to find something. I've applied for at least four jobs in the new hospitals in the city centre. But I've been rejected for each one. I don't have enough years' experience as a doctor"

He reached over to a bundle of papers and rummaged through them for a leaflet and held it out to her. "You know, you could come with me to Westin Hills"

Maggie took the leaflet off him and gazed at the glossy page. There was a picture of a large white stoned three storey building that stood in front of a blue sky. Above the building in navy letters was -Westin Hills Psychiatric Hospital. While below it was a brief overview of the facilities. She immediately shook her head, "Are you fucking serious Alan? Me working in a psychiatric hospital. Fuck that! They'll end up throwing me in a padded room if they find out my condition!"

"No, they won't" he reassured her. "We could keep it a secret from them. I'll be with you. It's good pay and you'll gain some experience from working there"

Maggie scoffed. "No thanks! I'll be okay here Alan. I just want to focus on getting myself better. I'm sure there would be other jobs I could go for" she then paused, feeling downtrodden that he was going to be leaving. "But I will you know…"

"Miss me?" Doc gave a little smile.

She shrugged and smirked, "Not that much you know"

He chuckled. "Listen, I think you should phone Diane. She was really worried about you"

"I know. I just don't want to go around there if he is there" Maggie admitted.

"I'll phone her first.

"Flowers…" she murmured quietly. "I'll get her flowers"

"You need to tell her what is happening to you"

Maggie gave a quick nod. "I will. And I'm you know…" she averted her eyes towards his.

He quietly understood that she was conveying her apology. Throughout the years he had known her Doc knew that she was never good at apologising. It was a trait she had tried hard to work on, to show her emotions. But her life so far has made her cold and aloof around others. "I'll make us some coffee then I'll phone Diane"

Sometime later…

Situated in the north of the city was Maggie's adoptive home – 16 Mulberry Street. The street was long and winding, with wide driveways with fancy Mercs, BMWs, Volvos parked at each house. The neighbourhood was quiet, hardly any crime happened in the area. It was a place Maggie that lived since she was twelve years old until she was nineteen years old when she left to pursue her career of being a counsellor. Doc's white Toyota Camery pulled into the driveway of a large red brick house. Maggie sat in the passenger seat holding a large bunch of red roses that was wrapped in a shiny white plastic wrapping. She opened the door and walked up a small gravel path to a set of large double doors. It had been nearly five months since she visited this house for Diane's 55th birthday. She took a deep breath and knocked the door, then waited.

Doc was behind her, and she felt him gently squeeze her shoulder, giving her encouragement.

From behind the door Maggie heard footsteps approach and soon the door was eased opened to reveal Diane. She smiled warmly. "Hello, Maggie. Alan"

Maggie forced a smile and entered followed by Doc. She then held out the flowers, "Um, to say sorry"

"They're lovely, thank you"

They walked through an archway to their left into a large stylish living room with large dark brown leather seat and matching three-seater sofa. Maggie sat on the single seat and saw Diane settle beside Doc on the sofa facing her. Diane was the first to speak. "Alan said he found you in a bad state"

"Yeah, I was just having a little drink" Maggie shrugged. "Um, I have something to tell you. The reason I haven't been to see you is because I stopped taking the haloperidol at the end of August. I was having bad side-effects. I just couldn't handle it anymore"

"Oh, Maggie dear, you should have told me or Alan. We would have helped you" Diane was disheartened at this.

Maggie clamped her hands together, again trying to shield her tremors from Diane. "I know. But I'm going to get help now"

"That's good Maggie. I'm sorry I never told you about Martin"

Maggie grounded her teeth and let out a long deep breath, "You said he is coming back to Central City. When?"

"In a few weeks' time" Diane turned to face Doc, "Alan, would it be okay if I could talk to Maggie in private, please?"

"Yes. I'll make us some coffee" Doc stood and left towards the kitchen, leaving them alone.

Diane cleared her throat as she became slightly anxious. "Please don't be angry Maggie. But there was another reason why we wanted to talk to you this morning. As you know Martin has separated from Jocelyn. Their relationship hasn't been working for the last two years. Your father…" she then quicky corrected herself. "Martin, I mean, has been in contact with me for the last year or so. We have meet up a few times. After much discussion we want to try and give our relationship another chance"

"What?" Maggie jaw dropped open in aversion. "You're taking him back?"

"Maggie please listen to me. We still love each other. You must understand that he was my first love, we were together since we were in high school. We want to work things out. We wanted to meet you to get your blessing" Diane explained.

"My blessing?" Maggie laughed in disbelief. "You can do what you like, but I don't want anything to do with him"

"Not even me?"

Maggie heaved a long-agitated sigh. "Look, I know that you took me in as a child and that you've always been kind to me. I've put you through so much shit when I was younger. All those fights I had with you both, how I would run away. Getting into trouble with the cops, all the problems I had with my mental health. I know I may not show it all the time, but I do appreciate it. But now I have my own life. If you want to rekindle your relationship with Martin, that's tour business. I just don't want anything else to do with him. Okay?"

"But he wants to make amends" Diane tried to persuade her.

"He can't. Not after what he said to me when I was younger. I can't let it go. I never will" Maggie shook her head quickly.

"Okay Maggie. I understand"

"Is that it?" Maggie glanced up as Doc entered with three mugs of coffee. "Is there anything else you want to tell me?"

Diane took her coffee and sipped it tentatively. "I have been thinking about something lately. I know that you still have that cardboard box you had when we adopted you. I said to you a few years ago that we could open it, maybe find out what was inside. We still can if you want to. Me and Alan could be here when you open it?"

Maggie was taken back by Diane's admission. She had that box for as long as she could remember and had constantly brought it with her from care home to care home, city to city. No matter how many times the care workers would try and take it off her, she would angrily shout at them and scold them prying it from their hands. It was hers and she would open it when the time was right. Though she never knew what was in it. She knew it was bulky, with a few times rattling inside whenever she shook it. Her name MAGGIE was scrawled in thick black marker and was tightly sealed with thick brown duct tape. Deep down inside her soul she knew that whatever was in that box was tied to her past, to her real parents. But she was petrified to open it. "No, I just can't" she blinked vehemently as she felt tears begin to form. "Excuse me, I need to go to toilet"

She swiftly left the living room and turned left down towards a small hallway that led to the downstairs bathroom. After closing the door, she sat on the edge of a large oval bath and placed the palm of her hands on knees and bowed her head. She took a sharp breath through her nose then exhaled slowly out of parted mouth. Her bottom lip trembled, and she pouted, sucking her lip in under her top lip as she let out a little sob. Through all her whole life, ever since she was a little child, she felt so much anguish and hatred towards them. Her real parents. Whoever they were. How could they desert her? What did she do to deserve it? Just what was the first orphanage she was left in? Was it in this state? It had certainly surprised her that Diane would even suggest opening that box. But then again why could she not throw it away? Maybe she did want to open it, but when would be conjure up the courage to do it? She sobbed again, and quicky shook her head. No, she knew that she would never open that box.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Maggie, are you okay?" Doc called.

Maggie drew a sharp breath and blinked away her tears. She hated people seeing or hearing her crying, it would only show her weakness and she hated being seen as weak. "I'm okay. I'll be out in a minute" she forced her voice to stay persuasive.

She could faintly hear a hushed whisper as Doc conferred with Diane in the hallway. "I think she is crying. Let's give her some more time"

As she heard them leave the corridor Maggie angrily slammed her fists against her jeans, and soon her fingers curled into the fabric of the jeans digging into her upper thighs. She gritted her teeth and slowly stood before the mirror to her right. Her eyes were red, blotchy from crying. She looked like hell. She shakily lifted her hands to the edge of her cheeks and then rubbed her face lightly before reaching up to rake her fingers through her hair. "You'll be okay…" she whispered to her reflection. "You'll get through this"

Doc and Diane looked up as Maggie entered the living room and plopped down on her seat. She reached for her coffee and took a drink.

"Maggie, you don't need to keep anything from us" Diane pleaded. "We both care for you. You should know that"

Maggie nodded quietly.

"Thank you for coming over" Diane smiled, "Please think about what I said this morning, about coming over here to spend Christmas with me?"

"I'll think about it" Maggie mumbled and then rose to her feet, "I just want to get home. Try and get some more sleep. Are you okay to drive me Doc?"

"Yes" Doc stood to his feet.

Diane walked over to Maggie and gently embraced her. However, Maggie instantly went rigid, her limbs tensing, and she lackadaisically raised her hands to lightly pat Diane's arms then abruptly broke away. But Diane was used to this lack of affection from her. It had always been this way with Maggie.

"I love you Maggie" Diane strolled with them to the front door.

Maggie half-turned towards her as her lips pursed together in a thin faint smile. "Yeah, me too. Bye"

Doc gently rubbed Diane's arms and whispered. "I'm going to help her, I promise"

X x x

Monday 17th January 1994…1.55pm

Loud, boisterous rock music blared from a small cassette player in a small bedroom of an apartment in the Rosemount Apartment Complex in the west of the city. Maggie's apartment was situated on the 3rd floor of the building, that was nestled in a area that had other various apartments. It wasn't as nice an area as where her adoptive parents lived, but it suited her. She hated all that high-class snobbery. The small spare bedroom had been converted by herself into her own personal gym. A small rectangular window faced the doorway. To the right of the window was a disused mannequin that had a large boxing body pad wrapped around it. Upon its head was thick padding, encircling its whole face while a drawing was plastered on the front – dark green eyes, black hair, with a nasty sneer gracing its lips. Again, a target for her to aim for. Against the wall to the left was a spin bike, and a small set of dumbbells of various sizes – 4kg, 6kg, 8kg – there were two sets of each size. A yoga mat was flattened out on the grey carpet, with a few weighted circular plates set at the top of the mat. Pointing towards the window was a large black treadmill that was being used by Maggie. Her plain white Nike air sneakers effortlessly landed on the rolling conveyer belt that was running at stead pace of 6.5km per minute. Her breathing was ceaseless as she was poised in a good running stance, back straight with head up as her arms pumped back and forth. Her hair was tied back in a loose ponytail, while her body was adorned in black gym bottoms and with matching black Nike t-shirt. Sweat dribbled down her brow as her eyes peered straight ahead as she hummed and then softly sang to the song that resonated in the room.

'Cause I'm just a girl, I'd rather not be

'Cause they won't let me drive late at night

Oh, I'm just a girl, guess I'm some kind of freak

'Cause they all sit and stare with their eyes

Oh, I'm just a girl, take a good look at me

Just your typical prototype

Oh, I've had it up to here

Oh, am I making myself clear?

I'm just a girl, I'm just a girl in the world

That's all that you'll let me be

Oh, I'm just a girl living in captivity

Your rule of thumb make me worrisome

Oh, I'm just a girl, what's my destiny?

What I've succumbed to is making me numb

Her head lightly bobbed to the rhythm of the drums and guitars. Her eyes darted down towards the treadmill screen where she noticed her distance and time was faster than usual. 5.5km in 31iminutes 23 seconds. A new personal best for her. Her right hand slammed down on the red stop button and slowly the running belt slowed to a stop, and she hopped off. She snatched a large litre bottle of water and took a slug, then approached a tall chest of drawers and took her red boxing wraps and enveloped her hands in them, tightening them snugly around her fingers. The last several weeks had seen a marked improvement in her mental and physical health. Since taking the new medication her delusions had gradually ceased and she found there was little to no side-effects to her relief. Also, she had taken up running and expanding her self-defence skills by taking up a few beginner classes of kickboxing. Mentally she was in a very good place. For the first time in years.

Though, her job prospects were not looking good. Her last day in the Shelter was on the 5th of January and despite frantically looking and applying for jobs, she was constantly turned down. As much as she was putting on a brave face, it was causing her to become demoralized, and it was something that she wanted to speak to Doc about.

Her eyes lit up in glee as another song began to play after 'Just A Girl' had finished. She began to murmur the words to herself.

I'm a cold heartbreaker, fit to burn and I'll rip your heart in two

And I'll leave you lyin' on the bed

I'll be out the door before you wake 'em, it's nothin' new to you

'Cause I think we've seen that movie, too

'Cause you could be mine, but you're way out of line

With your bitch slap rappin' and your cocaine tongue

You get nothin' done, I said, you could be mine, aw

She turned towards the mannequin and stood in her boxing stance, then broke out into a few boxing combinations Doc had written down for her. 10 x jabs, 10 x crosses. Repeating this four times. There was a sharp rap from the apartment door, and she switched doff her music and hurried out of the room, through her large spacious living room and to the left down a small archway to the door. A smile graced her lips as she opened the door to reveal Doc.

"Hi" Maggie chirped, "Come on in"

He closed the door as he entered her apartment, following her into the living room as she asked, "Do you want some coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee would be great thanks" He replied.

The wandered past the back of a large grey sofa and to the right to her kitchen. She meandered to one of the kitchen counters to her right and lifted two small white coffee mugs form a rack. Doc leaned against the wall to the left and then glanced at a small multi-coloured weekly tablet organise box. There were seven colours – red, yellow, orange, pink, purple, blue and green with the letters – M, T, W, T, F, S, S. Signalling each day of the week. There were four rows to cover a four-week period. He noticed the first compartment M – was opened and three tablets remained in the slot. Doc knew that her daily dosage of tablets consisted of five tablets – Clozapine 12.5mg twice per day at two specific times – 8.30am and then 4pm, then her daily dose of Celexa 10mg. She would also place a single Valium tablet of 5mg per day and a small white Fluoxetine 10mg tablet to help manager her depression but would only take it once every few days if she required it.

"So, how are you, Maggie? I haven't seen you in the last week" Doc watched her as she began to make their coffee. "Is the medication still working?"

Maggie turned towards him and grinned. "Still working like a charm. I feel good" she gestured for him to follow her towards the spare bedroom. "I've been meaning to show you this. My own private gym. I bought the spin bike and treadmill at the start of January. It's second hand though. I work out every day for at least an hour. It's helping me feel, I don't know, sane?"

He chortled softly. "That's good Maggie. How are things with you and Diane?"

"I've phoned her last week. She had wanted me to come over for dinner on Saturday, but he was there so I declined her offer" Maggie replied quickly and changed the subject. "I haven't seen you in a while Alan, I know you've been busy preparing for your new job. When do you leave again?"

"Monday the 7th of February. They wanted me to go earlier, they seem a little persistent in getting me there as soon as possible" Doc commented.

"Oh" Maggie rose an eyebrow, intrigued. "Why is that?"

"I'm not sure" Doc smiled as she handed him his coffee. He saw turned towards the living room and saw a small grip bag against the main couch. "Oh, are you going somewhere?"

"Yep!" She beamed excitedly. "A concert in Columbus. Train leaves tomorrow at 9am"

"Who are you going to see?"

"Pearl Jam" she took a sip of her coffee.

Doc threw her a bemused glanced, unsure of the band she mentioned. Her interest in music was far different form his. "So, you are going on your own?"

"Yes" Maggie saw the concern on his face and reassured him. "Come on, Alan! It's not as though I haven't been to a concert on my own. You know I can take care of myself, always have" she leaned against the counter leaving her mug behind her. "I'll be fine. Just going to go get drunk and use my amazing hot looks…" she alluringly flicked her hair and ran her hands along her waist to her hips. "To you seductively lure some guy back to my motel room. We'll do some cocaine, maybe invite a few of his friends around. Have an orgy! I need to release all this pent-up sexual frustration. It's really getting to me!"

Doc stared at her in shock and then saw the naughty smirk that grew across her lips. She gave a raspy laugh and gave him a teasing wink. "Come on Doc! You should know me by now!"

He shook his head. "I keep forgetting how strange your sense of humour is!"

"And morbid too!" Maggie's smirk grew into a smile.

"But you will look after yourself? Take it easy on the drink?"

"I haven't touched a drink since that day in Murphy's bar. I'm tee-total now" Maggie replied.

"You tee-total?" Doc laughed in disbelief.

"Well, I might have a few beers. But I will be on my best behaviour" she gave a mocking salute towards him and followed him into the living room with her coffee.

She sat on her own single chair near the window, while Doc settled into three-seater sofa to her right. Between them was a large circular coffee table that had a variety of child psychology books, job application forms, and a large brown cardboard box. It was about over one foot in height and approximately over one foot in width. Thick brown duct tape was tightly wrapped around the top of the lid while her name – MAGGIE – was written nearly on top. Doc stared intently at it and then up toward her.

"I've just been thinking about it lately since Diane mentioned it to me at the start of December. You know I've brought it everywhere with me. But I can never bring myself to open it or even throw it away. I know we talked about it when I first met you in our therapy sessions and I even contemplated destroying it. But I just can't! And I don't know why!"

"Maybe it's because you want to find out who your parents really were" Doc suggested. "If you want, we could open it now?"

"Oh, no" Maggie shook her head. "I'm in a good place now Alan. The medication is working, I'm calmer and in a way happy. Whatever is in that box…" she allowed her eyes to fall to the box. "I think it may set me back"

"Set you back?" Doc grew curious at this statement. "How?"

"I'm not sure" Maggie shrugged and grabbed her cigarette packet from the table, lighting one up. "Can we talk about something else?"

He glanced at the job forms on the table. "How is the job hunting going?"

Maggie took a drag of her cigarette and shrugged. "It's going okay"

"Any interviews? Offers?"

"I might have an interview. Just waiting on word back" Maggie shifted apprehensively on her seat. She had thought long and hard about Doc's offer back in December. "Um, remember you said to me about Westin Hills? You suggested that I should go with you?"

Doc sat up a little in his seat. "Yes"

"Well," Maggie chewed her lips anxiously for a moment. "I might have changed my mind. But just for a few months. A short-term contract if that's possible? I just want to gain some experience. But it's not just that you know I need something to keep myself preoccupied, focused" It was a way for her to divert her mind from her own problems, by helping the kids. Going into a career of counselling teenagers and then child psychology was something that she never considered as a teenager. But since her own childhood in her eyes was fucked up, she felt an urge to help teenagers going through similar difficult times in their own lives.

Doc broke into a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah. But I want to know where exactly I'll be going to and what work I will be doing. I don't want them to think I'll be doing all administration work. I want to be in the therapy session, I want to get to know the kids, to read their case files. Find out everything about them. I want to help in any way I can. You know how I was with the kids in the Shelter. The last four years working there I have never felt so fulfilled in my career. I met some great kids there" Maggie responded.

"I know Maggie" Doc placed his coffee on the table. "I've seen you working with the kids. You've helped so many. It's like you understand them, especially what you've been through in your own childhood and being a teenager"

Maggie snubbed out her cigarette in a small silver ashtray. "But you need to phone them, right?"

"Yes, I could phone them now. Explain the situation. From what Dr Gordon has told me they are a little understaffed. They need all the help they can get. If you want, you could speak to him on the phone?" Doc reached into his jacket pocked for his cell phone.

"No, just tell them that I'm interested in a short-term position. But I don't want them to know about my condition" Maggie pleaded.

"I won't tell them. We'll keep it between ourselves"

"Where is this place? You never said what city"

"Oh, it's a little town called Springwood. About 20km from here" Doc answered.

"Springwood?" Maggie's eyes narrowed slightly in bemusement and for a moment they glanced at the cardboard box, as though something kindled in the depths of her subconscious. "I don't think I've heard of it. Look, just give them a phone call. I'm going to have a quick shower"

He flicked opened his cell phone and began to scroll through his contact list for Dr Gordon's number. "I'll let you know what he says"

"Thanks" Maggie grinned and then marched towards the hallway that led to the bathroom, before she disappeared, into the hallway, she swung around to him and joked. "You never know Alan; in Springwood I may find the man of my dreams!"

x

I do not own the songs – Welcome to the Jungle – by Guns n roses, Smells Like Teen Spirit By Nirvana, Just a Girl by No Doubt or You Could be Mine by Guns n Roses.

Please note that some of the songs I may use have not been released yet in 1994 – such as Just a Girl by No Doubt – it was released in 1995. But just for the story and because I like the songs, some of them may be pretended to be released just for this story.