Fun fact: The word count for the story is approximately 251,020 words, which is all the Linkin Park songs added. The duration of all the songs combined is roughly 4.1 hours. That's a long time, but I bet you'll spend more reading this story.

WARNING: Self harm

Word count: 3,309

Chapter 5

"Crawling"

Ree turned over in her bed, squeezing her eyes shut and placing her hand over her left arm, which began itching again. It hasn't even been five hours and I already have the urge to do it again!

"Yes, do it again! I love watching you hurt yourself..." A deep voice entered her thoughts. It sounded both in her head, and right there. It freaked her out, Ree swiveled around and stared wide eyed at the empty space where she heard the voice. Nothing, her room was dark and empty. Great, now you're really going insane.

Ree tried her best to ignore the feeling. It felt like days, yet it was only seconds, before the feeling slowly crept up on her again. This time, it was suffocating. The girl felt like she couldn't breath, and her arm was going numb from the urge. It felt like something was grabbing her and pulling her into darkness.

Unless...

She charged out of her bed, shaking the blanket off her foot and scrambled out of her room. The soft slaps of her bare feet against the wooden floor entered the hallway. It was late at night, Ree doubted anyone would be awake. The girl used the wall as her support as she trekked through the dark hall, towards the empty bathroom. Ree opened the door, grimacing at its groaning creak. Shutting the door behind her, the girl turned her head towards the blade that sat on the white sink.

"Yes..."

Once again, she grabbed the razor and pulled up her sleeve.

Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of her previous cuts, eleven even lines were slashed on the underside of her forearm. Lint and tiny hairs caught on the inside. Scrunching her nose, Ree turned on the sink and washed out the cuts before drying it off and lifting the blade, ready to begin once more.

She drew the razor across her skin, relishing the fact that this was efficient. Minutes of indulging in herself passed, nine more lines were made before the hallway floor boards creaked. Ree froze, blade held above her wrist as she stared at the bathroom door. A few moments passed and no other sounds were heard. The girl continued, beginning to make another line.

The bathroom door whined, it moved in Ree's peripheral vision and she flinched, dropping the razor, which loudly clattered to the tiled floor. Her breath hitched, she was caught.

The face of Sam was revealed, he stopped dead in his tracks and gaped at the scene before him. All signs of fatigue left him and his eyes widened, "God, Ree, w-what the hell are you doing?" His lip trembled, not sure what to say. He looked scared, "R-Ree?"

"I-I'm fine," she bowed her head, letting her short hair hide her features. The girl lowered her arm and let the blood drip off her fingertip. Her eyes stared at the bloody razor, trying to figure what she's been doing.

Sam approached her, firmly grabbing the girl by her shoulders and making her look at him. He looked dead serious, "Ree," his voice then softened along with his gaze, "What's been going on?"

"Nothing," She firmly said, trying her best to ignore the boy's unconvinced visage. The girl gave in, sighing before she spoke, "...Promise not to tell Ron or Judy?"

He pursed his lips, glancing behind him to see Bee standing at the doorway, concern etched on his face. He turned back to Ree, "C'mon, let's go to my room. I won't tell Ma or Dad," Sam held out his hand for the girl, who took it with her right hand, he led her out of the bathroom and turned left towards his room. Bee followed behind in silence. Sam sat his cousin on the bed, and quietly spoke in a soft tone, "Alright, what's been going on?"

"...You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Ree looked down, her eyes staring at the wooden floor with haunted eyes.

Sam glanced to his friend, then back to the girl, "Try me."

"...I-I hear voices," Ree said after a minute of hesitation, she swallowed thickly, "And it helps me keep them out."

She was referring to cutting when she said "it." This all worried Sam.

"What kind of voices?"

The girl paused a moment, gathering her words and trying to make this sound less crazy, "Before the medicine, it was supporting. Then they began to say more degrading things after I took the pills."

"You say 'it,' then 'them.' What do you mean?" Bee said, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

Ree looked down again, "There was only one. He was the only thing I'd remember in the mornings," Bee looked confused, "As I took the pills, more came and the first left."

Her eyes darted to the corner where a figure formed, shit, they're coming back. The one in the trench coat smiled at her, a wicked, cruel smile it was. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Sam sat in his chair, "How many are there?"

"Five. Six, including the previous one," She blinked and glanced around the room, "They're coming back."

"So, lemme get this straight," Sam thought for a moment, "The shizophrenia pills aren't working."

Ree shook her head with a silent no formed by her mouth. She sucked in a breath, "Quite the opposite, really," the girl shook her head, "Can't believe Uncle Ron sent me to a therapist."

"A therapist or psychiatrist?" Sam asked again.

The sixteen-year-old rolled her eyes, slightly raising her voice, "I don't know!" She groaned and swept her hand over her face, "I do not want Ron or Judy knowing any of this."

With that being said, Ree stood and walked out of the room, ignoring the gazes of her cousin and his friend. She slowly opened her bedroom door and quietly shut it behind her, and sighed, staring at the door knob, if only Uncle Ron would let me lock the door... He never liked locked doors, didn't say why either. Ree assumed it was a safety concern. Sam once said his father was close to ramming down his door because it was locked. That's how serious he seems to be when it comes to doors. He doesn't even allow the bathroom door to be locked!

Ree sat on her bed, grabbing her pillow and hugging it to her chest as some sort of comfort and something to hide behind. Blood had slightly seeped through her sleeve, which had previously fallen over her wrist. It was drying. Letting out a heavy breath, the girl stood and went back to the bathroom to wash her arm off and clean the razor that had dropped to the floor.

I shouldn't have told Sam, she pursed her lips as she washed off the sharp, shiny blade. But I trust him, he's like a brother.

Once she was done, Ree changed clothes, climbed into bed and shut her eyes.

...

~ o Castle of Shards o ~

...

Rays of sunlight shone through the window, ignoring the curtains that unsuccessfully tried to cover up the bright light.

Ree cracked open her eyes, only to shut them again upon the sun blinding her. She groaned and pulled the covers over her face to block the horrible, cruel light. The sun wasn't supposed to be this bright in mornings! Wait... ignoring the rays of sunshine blinding her, Ree jerked up and looked at her alarm clock, shit, what? It's ten! I'm supposed to be at school!

Cursing herself, and the spirits cackling behind her, the girl jumped out of bed and rushed downstairs, forgetting any business she would need to attend to in the bathroom. She stepped out and poked her head through the backdoor, "Aunt Judy?" Ree called out, soon answered by said person who was tending to her roses, "...Did you touch my alarm clock?"

I actually remember Judy? The pills are working quite well... hopefully they'll continue to do so.

"Yeah, I turned it off," Ron said, closing the door to his green car, he walked up to her on the path, "We're gonna go see the psychiatrist again, see how you're doing. Twelve o'clock, sharp."

Her face immediately dropped to a scowl, what am I supposed to tell the therapi- psychiatrist? That I've been cutting myself? She glanced behind her shoulder at her aunt and uncle as she turned back into the house, he'll surely tell them. I don't trust him. Nobody seems to be able to help, her eyes darted around the house, can anybody help? Should I just... stop trying?

Ree shook her head, walking up the stairs and muttering to herself, "What to do about the cuts..." She entered her bedroom and changed clothes into a more casual set if not more gloomy. The girl wanted to show the psychiatrist that the pills are making it worse. She had on a dark pair of skinny jeans, the super soft kind that became her immediate favorite. A black cowl neck shirt hung loosely on her neck, but hugging her shape around the stomach. It had thin grey stripes running horiztonally around. Upon closer inspection, they were white. She wore her Vans, and looked in the mirror, "Good... Not emo, but good."

She glanced at the alarm clock that stood proudly on the window sill, I still have about an hour and a half. Her eyes found the blank journal that lied on the desk below the window, guess I'll make the most of it.

The voices have become silent. All five of them. They stood behind the girl, watching as she scribbled in the journal. It was the new one that Judy bought for her. Her handwriting was neat, small and light. It was a mixture of cursive and print, and always became a struggle for people not used to her writing.

Last night, Sam found out. It was the second time I cut myself, and I already got caught. Let's just hope he won't know that I'll continue to do it. It's what makes the spirits go away. Right now, I'm waiting for time to pass so I can go to the psychiatrist. What am I supposed to tell the man? That I've been hurting myself? Hell no. But I can worry about that later. For now, I'm enjoying the peace and quit.

Ree hovered over the paper before erasing the last word with a frustrated sigh, rewriting it as quiet.

"Hey," One of the figures whispered, sounding like he's spoke right in her ear, Ree whipped around, breath hitching. The spirit laughed, "Miss me?"

He smiled menacingly, as did the shorter one. He stuttered, "I-It's so fun t-to mess-ss with her."

Leave me alone, she rolled her eyes when they showed defiance. It was bothersome. Ree closed her journal, gently setting her favorite fountain pen she used on top and stood from her seat. Sitting on the bed, she thought to herself. More like snapped at the spirits, I should really get that salt pendant...

A ringing broke out in her ear, she paused and let it pass before turning to the five figures. The hell was that?

Shaking her head, Ree stood, I'm going insane. She walked out the door and down the stairs, the psychiatrist surely will question it.

...

~ o Castle of Shards o ~

...

The hour and a half passed by quickly, and soon Ree was dragged into her uncle's car to be taken away to hell. Also known as, the psychiatrist. The girl banged her head against the seat headrest, letting out a groan in irritation. Ron eyed her, "It's not that bad."

She glared at him, then let out a breath, closing her eyes. Calm down Ree, they're all just trying to help she opened her eyes and watched the trees pass by with the occasional street sign, and miserably failing.

A good twenty minutes went by and Ree was led into the psychiatrist's office. Dr. Harold stood and smiled, situating himself in a chair nearby, motioning for the girl to take a seat.

"So, last visit. We prescribed you with memory pills and ones for schizophrenia," she grimly nodded, bored of his bland tone, at least, that's what it sounded like to her, "Right. How are they working?"

"I can remember names with faces," Ree swallowed, don't tell him about the cutting! Choosing her next words wisely, the girl sucked in a breath, "I'm not sure how these 'schizophrenia pills' are supposed to be working."

Truth be told, Ree didn't know this man. Only that he was a thera- psychiatrist, and that she hates psychiatrists. There was no way she was telling this stranger everything, including her troubles. Her breath hitched, what if I told him, and they sent me to something like... An asylum? She closed her eyes, That won't happen as long as you don't tell anyone.

"Va-" He cleared his throat to hide his slip up, "Ree?"

The girl looked up, eyebrows raised in question, "Huh?"

"Alright," he looked down at his notepad, repositioning the glasses on his nose, "We might need to place you on a higher dose, instead of five mg, I'm going to bump you up to a ten," he paused, examining whatever was written on his paper. For which damn medication? Dr. Harold looked back up, licking his lips and staring at Ree in thought with his mouth open for a second, "Are you having trouble sleeping or waking?"

"Um... not that I know of. I feel fully rested, and I usually go to sleep around nine and wake at seven."

He raised an eyebrow, "You sleep for ten hours?"

"Yes," she nodded with the silent word from her mouth. She scratched the back of her neck, "That's how long I sleep every night."

"Really now?" He leaned back in his chair, "Have you ever considered yourself a long sleeper?"

Ree nodded again, "One of my journals says so."

Then Dr. Harold scooted forward on his chair, "So... Do you read your journals in the morning or...?"

"I... don't know. I've read them countless times, I guess my memory loss isn't that severe?"

"Might as well be," He pursed his lips, "I'll keep you on the medication since it seems to be helping."

"Okay," Ree said, looking down to the floor, which was carpeted. Her hands fumbled with each other, wanting to do something instead of sit under the calculating and pressuring gaze of Dr. Harold. This was quite uncomfortable.

"I see this still isn't working," One of the spirits said, it was just him though. Oh no, why are you here? You're not supposed to be here! Go away! You're making this even more miserable for me. He chuckled, "Don't worry, I hate these visits too. Though I do like watching you suffer, but that also means I have to suffer as well."

Good. We can agree on one thing.

The spirit frowned, then flicked his chin towards the man, "Pay attention."

Ree shot her eyes back to the specialist, who she had forgotten about momentarily. He must've watched her expressions undoubtedly shift. She has a tendency to do so when speaking with the spirits in her head. Ree scratched her left wrist out of discomfort, the man's middle aged eyes observed her every move and it was nerve wracking. The girl didn't like this.

Swallowing, she open her mouth, "Are we done here?"

He set his palms on his knees, then took a deep breath, "If you want to be."

Ree glanced at the clock, not even a quarter of an hour has passed. She wanted to get out as soon as possible. The spirit nearby huffed, "Get on with it then, leave."

The girl eyed the man in a warning gaze, she then looked back to Dr. Harold, not to be rude, but, "I think we are."

"Alright," he stood and opened the door for Ree, gesturing for her to go through. "I'll see you next week, Ree."

...

~ o Castle of Shards o ~

...

The day quickly passed by, Sam came home around seven due to a date with some Mikaela chick. Ree was slouching on her bed, staring at the cuts on her wrist. They've been bothering her since she went to the psychiatrist. Should I do it again? The girl stared blankly at her wrist, will it help?

Sighing, Ree lied on her back, legs still hanging over the edge of her bed. Her feet swung back and forth in a bored manner. She let her mind wander all over the place. It was soon focused on the five figures loitering around her room. Who are you people?

"Glad you asked," he smiled menacingly, white teeth showing through his pale lips, "We are known as the Decepticons."

The hell is that? Ree raised an eyebrow, eyes flicking in between all five men. Sudden embarrassment flooded through her as she realized there were men. Five. Men. In her room.

Where, oh, where did privacy go?

"Right out the window, darling," another had said. It was the one in the Air Force uniform. He cracked a small smirk, "I'm known as Blackout."

The short guy stepped forward, jabbing a thumb towards his chest, "F-Frenzy."

"These two fragheads are Bonecrusher and Brawl," Blackout said, pointing to the respective men. Brawl was the green-clothed one, he glared at me before averting his gaze elsewhere. Bonecrusher, the other man, offered a small nod. Still silent, huh?

And the one in the trench coat smirked, placing a hand on his chest, "Lord Megtron, at your service."

Lord? Well, shit. That makes you all the more dangerous, yeah? He chuckled in response, but gave no other reply. Why are you all here?

"Same reason that of the Autobot," Ree questioned "Megatron's" words, "I believe he goes by Jazz."

What's an Autobot? Frenzy stepped forward, raising a fist, "O-our arch en-enemies."

The girl decided to keep the conversation from going any further. She didn't like talking to these spirits, they were... scary, in a way. They were much unlike the patient, calm demeanor Jazz held. What did he look like again? Did he have dark skin? ...Oh shit, am I forgetting Jazz? Is he dying from my memory? Ree spared a glance at the spirits, they looked so much more solid, they weren't as transparent as before.

Why can't she remember? Am I going to be stuck with these men for as long as I am taking those pills? Another look at them, only Megatron was staring at her. Their gazes locked, but both kept silent.

Wait... if they're in my mind, are they dead?

"That we are, little one," Blackout's small voice sent shivers up her spine. It was a soft tone, but something behind it made his voice seem... intimidating, yet she felt a false safe feeling filling her.

Slamming her pillow into her face, she groaned, "Go away."

She wanted to sleep. It was eight at night. The men standing there didn't help her case. When Ree picked up her head to see them, she found that no one was there anymore. Had they respected her wish for them to leave? Will they stay as such?

No... they'll come back...