Here's the other chapter. Sorry it took so long. This chapter was forced out of me. Notes at the end of the chapter to avoid confusion! :) And very big author's note at the end.

Chapter 16
Sickly Sweet

Why am I so incomplete?
December, 18, 2009
Me

I wish I lied.

I swear I do.

"What?" the voice's demanding and it breaks through my heart, making me scratch and bleed on the inside as I stare at him, stare at those eyes, stare at the anger and my heart thuds again.

"What do you mean you don't remember me, Teddy?" his voice's softer now.

I shut my eyes tighter as I try to find the words. I try to say what I'm feeling but I can't. It's almost as if there's something keeping me from saying that I don't remember him at all. "I don't know… a drink…Richards…" I try to remember it all but it's a fizzled out memory.

"That bastard!"

"Randy…"

It feels strange saying his name.

"That sadistic bastard! Did you drink it or did he force it or did he force you to drink? What did he do?"

"He forced me…"

"Ted? Why so scared?"

"It's you…"

Another senseless truth.

I shake my head, trying to shake the thoughts with it but they're glued to my head and I can't really do anything about it.

"Ted?"

"I'm sorry."

I run off.

It's just that I can't look at him. There's something about him that makes me feel emptier on the inside. Something that makes me feel completely and utterly worthless. It's there even if I try to ignore it.

I can't ignore it.

Just too much pain.

Just too much agony exploding.

My head's pounding.

And I don't know how to breathe.

And I don't think I can breathe.

There's just this feeling inside of me…that's making me feel as if he's better off without knowing me…as if I'd do anything not to know him…

I'm so confused.

Why am I so broken?

Sometimes, you know you can't get filled up
December, 19, 2009
Convince

They're trying to fill me up with food and liquid.

But just nothing can fill me up.

I know I'm empty and I know nothing can change that even if they tried. I know I'm empty because I don't have a soul and I still believe that my soul's on the other side of the mirror and I don't want to look into the mirror anymore to know about what I've lost. I've lost a lot of things.

Including my sanity.

I'm going insane on the inside.

I look down at my hand as I slip my broken ring in and out of my finger and I know that I'm actually going through this and I don't really care anymore as I let the pain sink inside of my body and I walk away from the room, letting the scent of the room roam around my body as I look towards the window again from where I stand.

From every angle, away or near, the blackness and the grayness and the whiteness of the world's right in front of me.

The white parts are slowly fading.

And the gray's darkening.

Nothing's left but black that way.

I miss all the colors of the world.

I miss being a color.

Now, I'm just black.

Nothing's enough anymore.

Whenever I move
December, 20, 2009
Me

I lay on my stomach, on my bed, pressing my head to my pillow, thinking and watching as life passes me by and cripples me to no extent and I try not to think of Randy Orton but it's like he's my mind's obsession whether I like it or not and I try not to think and I've tried so hard not to think but I can't.

It's exploding in my head.

Thoughts, spluttered thoughts.

My thoughts of him.

I still think I'm better off without him.

I move away from bed to take a couple of pills before I slip back again and engulf myself in thoughts and I don't care what anyone says about me because they don't know how I feel and they don't know how painful this is…they don't know how it feels like to have paint throb in my stomach so hard. I hold onto my stomach and I'm all in tattered and ragged clothing and I don't even care because I feel tattered too.

I leave a trail of red blood behind me.

It's all so sickly sweet
December, 21, 2009
That

I have trouble sleeping.

It's like my eyes are taped wide and I can't really close them. It's like I can't really open my eyes. It's horrible. It's so very horrible. I want to go to sleep. I banged my head on the wall until blood smeared but I just didn't go to sleep. I'm not asleep. I'm so wide awake. I'm so tired. I'm exhausted.

When I move to get a bottle of water, something scares me…it's like I can hear the beating of my heart. Over and over. So quick. And I didn't even move around much. It's scary. Even when I lie back down towards my bed, I feel it surge, a rush, quick, unsteady, uncontrolled heartbeats…

I'm so cold. So very cold.

It's like I'm living on ice. No amount of thick sheets can make that feeling go away. It's stuck with me. It's plunging me down. It's staring me so very much and I want to know what's wrong with me. I want to know why nothing really makes sense anymore.

It's scaring me.

I want to go home.

Where's home?

Where am I?

Why can't I breathe anymore…?

I am so hungry.

I've never really acknowledged the feeling much because it's not there. But now, I'm just so very hungry. I want and need to eat but at the same time, the voices inside of my head prevent me from eating anything. I feel so numb. I feel so hungry. I feel so empty. I want to fall asleep.

Nausea burns through me. Nausea just rolls through my brain. Nausea just explodes through my body.

I'm so depressed. So very sad.

Tears cascading down my eyes.

So tired.

So exhausted.

Whenever Richards would come inside of the room, I'd go into a ballistic rage. I want to be left alone. I want to be alone. They won't let me. I want to think. I need to breathe. I don't want to mess up everything anymore.

I can't process my thoughts.

I've been staring.

Eyes twitch.

I don't know what I'm staring at.

Frozen. Eye twitch.

"What in hell's name?!"

Too frozen.

I feel him shake me into reality, his eyes are staring at me, dark and horrid and my heart's pulsing through my veins. Hot red blood. I just don't understand who he is. I just don't understand who he is at all.

"Theodore?"

"Who?"

It's confusing me. Dazing me.

I don't do anything anymore.

I can't handle the nausea.

My heart's in my hands
December, 22, 2009
I've

I'm tired. I'm so very tired.

I'm stuck inside of this state and I don't know how to get out of it. I've taken pills called ethosuximide (spelling, please, book?) and I can't move. I seriously cannot move. It's like these pills are paralyzing me. Whatever Richards (I think that's his name) shoves in my mouth is just seriously tasteless.

I want to run out of here or something.

Just that I can't move.

I'm bleeding and tired and nauseous and somehow…I don't even care. If no one cares, then why should I?

I crush it.

I'm trembling.
December, 23, 2009
Been

It scares me.

The fear is raking me. The fear is burning inside of me. There's no way I can escape it. There's no way I take it…I just want to die. I think I need to breathe. My thoughts are all on Randy Orton but I try to push him away and I realize I can't. I get his text messages more than fifteen times in one hour and I'm worried about him because I'm not worth it. Why's he so persistent?

What's he fighting for? Me?

There's always something better than me.

I'm sorry I don't write much anymore…I'm just so tired…the pain is so horrible. I'm trying to convince myself that I've been sick all the time.

That way, I wouldn't care if I was sick or if I wasn't, right? But it's still haunting me. The thoughts. The horror. I want to sleep. I really want to go to sleep but I don't think even Punk can do it anymore and Richards (the man is scaring me) is telling me that the treatment I had been getting had actually made me worse.

I can't be fixed. I can't be cured.

I'm all broken.

And miserable.

And all I want to do is take my last breath.

I stand up, trying to walk and ignore the overwhelming, exploding pain and as I walk towards Richards' lab (I think he told me not to touch his things?) I don't know. I just want to walk around. I feel so stiff. I feel so much of a statue. I sit down onto his table and look at one of a silver device and stare at it.

"THEODORE!?"

I jump up and let the think shock me…

I fall back down onto the floor and feel hands on me, and those blue eyes, staring at me, "hold on, Ted…" Randy's eyes are spilling tears and I hold onto his shoulder and it's like I'm dying…

Am I dying…?

I can't be dead, can I…?

I can't escape fear.

Tired of everything
December, 24, 2009
Sick

And here I am.

In this black endless void.

At the back of my head and I can't really get out.

I'm stuck here and his voice is haunting.

I want to go back. Fix my mistakes.

I can't.

I'm stuck here.

Forever.

I want to fall asleep…forever.

Lost
December, 25, 2009
Forever

And I'm gone forever.

I'm sorry.

Lost.

I'm so very lost.

I can't get out.

I'm trapped.

No doors.

Nothing.

Just blackness.

Randy…I'm sorry…

I'm gone forever…

NOTE: Ted had an absence seizure when he forgot Richards. Absence seizures can temporarily produce memory loss. In absence seizures, people just stare into space and their eye twitch and they remain like that for a few seconds. When they lapse back, they produce memory loss.

Anyways, this chapter was pretty hard to write.

I don't know if it was hard to read. But definitely hard to write. And is this the end?

Review and hope this isn't the end.

;) Sam