Disclaimer: Don't own them.
A/N: This chapter is from Grace's perspective, after Rachel and Tony have left the hospital. It's a little bit of an insight into Grace's head, what she's thinking and everything, since, well, she doesn't talk… So I thought poor little Grace needed a voice of some sort! R&R
Chapter 9
The walls were not of magic and myth, not padded, just a bland white paint, which was slowly crumbling and peeling off almost as quickly as the inmates were wasting away inside. The days were customary, and the rules were enforced, but nearly unnecessary, as after awhile, no one had the energy or will to create havoc, because that just meant one more day you were condemned to the quarters, one more day you were living blankly, tackling years to your life, but dragging the life from the years.
The place was dreary, though no one really noticed. The ones who left daily weren't there long enough to care, and the others were there too often to. This wasn't helping, on the contrary, it was hurting. Locked inside an empty room, with an empty soul, your only companion the limitless imagination of your own mind.
She was pale, but dark. She was full, but starved. She wanted to leave...
But she had nowhere to go.
She couldn't run away, because she would be caught, and again, that meant more time she would have to stay. But it didn't really matter, because she couldn't leave. She'd never be released to the freedom and welcome arms of nature, and outside living. Not if she didn't speak again. But how could she, not after she faced the horror of her best friend's murder.
But she knew who did it, she knew.
She couldn't tell anyone though. No one could every understand what it was like to open your mouth and have no words come out. There was so much she wanted to say. So much that mere drawings could not express.
And she knew that she had made mistakes, but she had realized them, and she knew that she was capable of leaving. All she had to do was talk. But how could she, when every time she opened her mouth, a thousand lead-weights pulled her mouth shut. It just simply wouldn't work. She'd heard the doctors talking, as if she wasn't there, they talked about all this. That maybe she was crazy, that she'd never get better.
But mostly, Grace was scared that if she did talk, what would come out of her mouth? Would she talk nonsense, or would she make complete sense? The pressure was overbearing on a 9-year-old girl. But she had Rachel. She would help her. Rachel was like a substitute for Kate, where was Kate? Grace remembered the feeling the first night that Kate hadn't visited her, hadn't stopped by to talk to her. It was like someone was shaking her, trying to get all her strength out of her.
It was torture.
But if she did speak, would she tell everyone what she knew? Then what? She'd be carted off to family services, where they would place her with a strange family that pretended to love her. And she'd never see Kate again.
But she had nowhere to go, and may as well have had no family. And anyway, no one nowadays took pity on anyone but themselves. And why should they? She had the scars on the inside of her that would never fade. The memories that haunted her every time she closed her eyes, and dreams in her heart that had already died. She'd be no asset.
If she died, no one would mourn her. No one knew her. The others living there, as she had so named them, "The others", didn't care. Why should they? She never spoke to them. It was a dangerous game to play, making friends, as they so quickly came and left, and emotional attachments were one thing that she did not need.
No one except Kate.
But Kate hadn't visited for weeks now, and she may as well have abandoned Grace. Grace felt abandoned.
Rays of light peeked in through the off-white curtains, lighting her ghostly white face a bit, though really the total effect was just like a Halloween Jack-o-Lantern, her face remaining the same, but the sun alighting her eyes and hair, not making them spectacular, like they once were, but bright enough to give her an eerie, unhealthy looking glow.
Judging by how many hours she had been up, she realized she must have woken too early, probably when it was still dark out, because breakfast came at seven every morning. She wasn't hungry, but then again, she normally wasn't, so this didn't bother her or anyone else.
The food quality left much to be desired, and she often felt somewhat amused when she thought of what exactly it tasted like. Kinda bland, yet overloaded with salt. She was luckier than most, since she didn't require medication, but for all she knew they could have been drugging her anyway…
She shouldn't think like that, or she'd never be let out. Grace knew that, but the thoughts spiraled in anyway.
She thought about the food again, which then led her to think about school. She had never that excited about school, not most of the time anyway. Except when Ebony was there. But now that Ebony was gone, she had no reason to be there. When she even was in school, she didn't pay much attention to school food, often preferring to bring her own neatly packed lunch...But the fact of the matter was that she just liked remembering school: it was a good place to her, a place with generally happy memories, and her home away from home. She was a wonderful student: strong and athletic, kind and bright. She was almost, in every aspect, the perfect girl.
So how did she end up here? Living these long months, reminiscing with falling tears.
It was a story she didn't want to bring up, a story which left a lot --too much-- blame on her, and not enough on the people who made her life a living hell, who trapped her into darkness at the worst possible time, and drove her to insanity. She didn't ask for this...
...It just befell her.
The doors in her room locked from the outside, which was rather ironic for all of the times she had been told to make companions, and stop wallowing in her self pity. How would she ever get out if she had to wait for someone to set her free?
Her only solace was a solitary window, which she could open as she pleased, but it was very small, so it was impossible to climb out, and even worse still, with bars across the only escape she'd have for the rest of her life, and still yet, she was nothing more than a small bird being caged in, her wings clipped from flight.
Her soliloquized thoughts ended abruptly, as the handle of the door, as if known it was previously acknowledged, gently twisted until it opened, revealing a stout but firm old woman, her eyes no more kind than the patients eyes were happy.
"Breakfast," The old nurse grunted, and nearly slammed the tray at the foot of the bed, Grace being forced to eat it sitting at the head, facing the window and not looking back.
Grace frowned at the nurse and gave her a steely look, but the nurse paid no attention. She wasn't paid to be tried by difficult patients.
"Don't frown kiddo, now eat up, you need your strength." The woman told Grace tapping her foot on the tile floor.
Grace crossed her arms over her chest, facing away from the nurse. "Look, I've had a long day already and it's only 8am. Please eat." She lowered her voice, trying to sooth the little girl. Grace didn't move.
The nurse leaned in closer to Grace, looking over her shoulder to check that no one was looking, then hissed at Grace, "Look you little worm, eat your food or else!"
Grace slid backwards, away from the nurse, totally shocked that anyone would talk to her like that. Not even her father ever talked to her like that…
The nurse smiled, but Grace could see the frustration in her eyes. Grace felt a sudden rush of familiar fear tear though her, and she closed her eyes, feeling them welling up with tears. The nurse sighed, "Stop it." She ordered in a quiet voice.
Grace didn't understand, she'd done nothing wrong, why was this nurse being so horrible to her? Grace opened her eyes only to see the nurse's face close to hers. She was terrified and she did the only thing she could – she spat in the nurse's face.
The nurse sat, stunned, for only a moment before she cried out herself.
"Damn you, you crazed lunatics! I know the world would be better off without you!"
Soon, the room wasn't only occupied by the nurse and Grace – but by at least half a dozen other adults came and stood in the doorframe.
Murmurs were heard eloquently to the young girl, who knew she was in trouble, but not of what sort.
"It'd happen eventually," One doctor said, stepping forward, his bright red hair contrasting crazily with the white walls. "Let me handle her." His voice was nearly a monotone, but it was equipped with some kind of hint of a tone she couldn't quite identify.
And somehow, the malicious glint in his amber eyes didn't quite calm her nerves.
A/N: Sorry if it's a bit confusing, but I needed to show what Grace is thinking and everything, and why Rachel said at the end of last chapter, "I won't let them hurt you again." It'll all make sense later! R&R