Hello, friend-os!
So before you guys read this, I'd just like to say THANK YOU 1000! I'm serious. You guys have been so wonderful to me and have been encouraging me SO much! Your reviews add such brightness to my day, I gotta wear shades!
Thank you especially to ChipmunkFanNo.1 for all your support! From the bottom of my heart, thanks so much for the suggestions and inspiration! It means so much to me. Honestly!
And to my reviewers and readers, thanks a million! I'm so touched. You guys rock! :D
-Blythe
"I catch you staring at me all the time..."
Alvin nearly dropped his paintbrush. It was official; he had been caught in the act of spying. He damned himself in his mind, cursing to every cell in his body that he'd done so. What made him think she wouldn't notice he was watching?! After all the times he'd sat in his window and stared at her, of course she was bound to notice! Now trapped in a bit of a bind, Alvin did was any sensible person would do: deny, deny, deny.
"I-i don't know what you're talking ab-"
"So why is that, boy from 1D?" She interrupted, her rhinestone cerulean eyes paralyzing him mid-sentence, "What is it about me that you find so...alluring?"
"Listen, I-"
"Is it because I'm... loud? Am I too loud for you, boy from 1D?" she yelled boisterously, slamming down her paintbrush on the canvas easel and slanting her body toward him. As usual, Brittany had officially started another one of her psychodynamic disruptions. Not a soul in the room moved an inch - the sound of a pen dropping would've caused cataclysm.
"No, that's not-"
"Oh no, wait..." she interjected again, halting him. She rose to her feet and stepped in front of him, pulling off his cap. To everyone's utter surprise (including Alvin's), she began casually playing with his hair as if it wasn't unusual - as if she knew him. Alvin was a mix of flustered and downright confused by her as she gently combed her fingers through his hair, occasionally playing with the ends of a few strands. His face was visibly flushed by now and a lump was starting to form in the back of his throat; he wasn't sure if he was afraid of her, or if he was just startled. What on Earth was she doing?!
"Perhaps...it's because you think I'm... pretty." she whispered provocatively.
Alvin swallowed hard. This was true. In all honesty, Alvin did think she was quite attractive, but that wasn't the reason why he he spent so much time wondering about her and watching her. Come to think of it, he wasn't quite so sure why he did that - it was a subconscious thing.
"You do, don't you?" she teased, moving her hands from his head to his cheeks, holding his face in her delicate, porcelain palms, "I am quite pretty, aren't I?"
She reached her hand to Alvin's easel and dipped her finger in the small container of red paint. Then, she began doing something far more peculiar than what he usually expected her to do - she began to smear it on her own lips as if it were lipgloss. When she'd covered her lips with a fine coat of ketchup-bottle red, she returned her stifling gaze to his.
"Tell me, boy from 1D," she whispered intensely, "just how pretty am I compared to the other female jailbirds in this crazy-house, hmm?"
Dr. Stevens stepped in, adding to the intensity of the situation, "Brittany, that's quite enough! Remove that paint from your lips and take a seat!"
"Or what, doc?" sneered Brittany calmly, not bothering to turn her head toward Dr. Stevens, "Are ya gonna put me away in the cloud room again? Is that what you're gonna do?"
"Brittany Cutler, you better leave that young man alone! Alvin, don't listen to her-"
"Oh! Alvin, is it?" intruded Brittany again, smiling ominously down at him with the new shade of red coloring her lips, "what a handsome name for such a handsome boy! Now tell me, Alvin... that IS the reason why you stare at me all the time, is it not? You do it because I'm beautiful..."
"Brittany-!" yelled Dr, Stevens.
"What do you think is my most beautiful quality, hm? Is it my hair? " She asked, tossing back a lock of her strawberry blonde hair, "Or my skin?"
"Brittany, this is your last warning!"
"Or maybe my eyes..." she flirtatiously batted her eyelashes. Alvin was overwhelmingly bimused, frantically searching for something, anything he could do or say. She had stunned him to the point of immobility of the body as well as the tongue. She was terrifying - and this time, she was targetting him. She leaned close to his face, stopping no more than an inch away, a malevolent grin creeping over her lips.
"Perhaps...my lips..."
She took the finger she'd dipped in paint and touched it to her lips again, then she proceeded to drag the finger off of her bottom lip and over her cheek, leaving a trail of red behind it. Dr. Stevens picked up the intercom phone and rapidly dialed a number, speaking softly into it as if communicating a secret to the person on the other end. This immediately caught Brittany's attention; her head snapped in Dr. Steven's direction, but she still spoke to Alvin.
"Or maybe," said Brittany, purposely loud enough so that Dr. Stevens and the whole class could hear, "MAYBE you wanna watch me so much because I'm FUCKING CRAZY!"
Her sudden increase of volume caused Alvin to startle backwards in his seat. He was afraid to do anything, much less respond to her! Brittany was a storm and he was right in the center of her whirlwinds - something he'd hoped he'd never experience in her presence.
"That's what you all think, isn't it?" she scolded to everyone in the room, "You all think I'm a Goddamned PSYCHO!"
Her fists were clenched so hard that they turned white. She began to unleash her fury, "That's all anybody ever does! No one does anything but watch like I'm some caged animal in a zoo! Well I'm not, okay?! I'm not the fucking circus!"
No one responded, not even Dr. Stevens.
"I feel like I'm living in a fishbowl!" said Brittany, her voice shrinking as it began to crack from tears, "and I'm tired of it!"
"You're making it this way. It doesn't have to be like this, Brittany," assured Dr. Stevens calmly, approaching her carefully.
"Yes it does. It ALWAYS does!" snapped Brittany, moving to her easel. She fondled the edge of the cup that held her grey paint.
"Brittany, please sit down. You don't need to cause another uproar."
She picked up two of her paint containers and held them over her head for all of the class to see. If Alvin guessed correctly about what was about to happen, that would mean he wouldn't be walking out of art therapy without at least one drop of paint staining his clothes - in other words, the room was about to turn into a Jackson Pallock painting.
"You all humiliate me on a daily basis... so now it's my turn to humiliate you!"
Brittany suddenly released her arms, slinging the cups of paint forward and creating two sloppy lines of yellow and blue on the floor and on the backs of the canvases of the other patients' murals. She continued to hurl the contents of the cups until nearly every drop of each color was spilled somewhere in the room. Once she was finished with a color, she'd grab two new ones, creating more of a color catastrophe than before. The other patients in the room ducked behind the canvases, some of them shrieking and covering their heads and others covering their shirts in attempt to protect themselfs from the sudden introduction of unwanted reds and purples. Brittany herself was covered with paint, yet she didn't seem to mind - her color frenzy was taking control of her as she thrashed about, yelling obsenities and emptying more and more of the paint.
"How do you all like me NOW, huh?! Now everyone's gonna be staring at YOU people!"
In the middle of Brittany's absurd show of self-expression, two burly men in white uniforms burst through the wooden double doors and took hold of her before she could finish emptying the rest of her containers. Alvin recognized these men from earlier that morning when he'd been awakened by her sudden screaming and resisting treatment. What was happening now was no different from what'd occurred earlier - the girl was, once again, rebelling against them with every once of her strength, nearly being lifted entirely off the ground in the process.
"You all may think you're getting better in this hellhole, but you ALL are just as PSYCHO as ME!" She bellowed, her voice echoing as she was dragged out into the hallway.
The room was quiet after she left while the victims of the paint disaster started to recover, coming out from their hiding places. Dr. Stevens heaved an exasperated sigh as she took out a roll of paper towels from a cabinet above the sink and began cleaning up after Brittany's episode.
Alvin hadn't moved since Brittany was hauled out. He was entirely frozen, afraid to move anything in fear of the consequences. The red-clad chipmunk stared timidly at the double doors, fearing her return as he began to shiver, little tremors beginning from the very tips of his fingers and spreading from his hands up to his arms until his whole body was trembling. What was happening to him? Had this girl turned him into a paranoid basketcase? He'd never been this afraid to move before over a person. And much less, a girl!
"Dr. Stevens?" called a concerned, gentle voice from right next to him. This voice was one he'd heard before; it was the girl from group therapy - Ellie, "something's wrong with Alvin..."
In Dr. Walters's Office:
"Who does she think she is? I mean, she's not the only one with problems in this hospital! Where does she get off thinking that she somehow has the right to act all psychotic all the time?!"
"Alvin..."
"She walks around like 'hey look at me! I'm that crazy girl from 60C! I can be as loud, obnoxious, and disruptive as I want because I have problems!'"
"Alvin, please-"
"She has no sense of consideration for anyone else! And she wonders why she's been here for three years! She wonders why she's not allowed into the courtyard garden! Well, gee! Maybe it's because she's such a DRAMA queen!"
"I don't think you quite understand-"
"Give me a break! She even got paint all over my cap!" Alvin removed his lucky red cap and pointed to a little yellow line of acrylic paint that ran from the ridge of the hat to around the side, "see?!"
"Yes, I see. But Alvin-"
"How is it acceptable to let someone like her out of the A wing?! She obviously belongs there! I mean, I'm fearing for my safety!"
"Alvin," began Dr. Walters sternly. He waited for Alvin to calm down and stop frantically pacing. "Please. Try to sit down and relax."
"Relax? How can-"
"Yes, relax. Try. Perhaps once you calm yourself, we can have a conversation about this."
Alvin reluctantly took a seat on the antique chair on other side of the room, facing the doctor. He slouched in the chair, grumbling to himself incessantly as the doctor scribbled down some notes on his clipboard.
It was a mystery how everyone in the hospital seemed to just accept Brittany's disruptive behavior and allow her to live like a high-functioning patient in the C wing after spending time in the A wing. From the things he'd heard about her, she should have a wing dedicated to just her! According to Ellie, Brittany had put a nurse in the hospital at one point because she threw silverware at her. In Alvin's eyes, sane people just don't do those things! Another indicator that she's severely disturbed is the fact that she wakes him and many other up in the middle of the night with those persistant episodes that always end up with her being tied down to her bed and being given a drug. Once again, sane people just don't do those things!
What aggravated Alvin more than anything was the fact that she lashed out at him in the middle of art therapy; what did he ever do to her that justified her being so rude and acting the way she did toward him? He wasn't trying to be offensive! He just wanted to apologize for earlier and for calling her immature. He didn't mean for her to react the way she did and start throwing paint! It was like something a person would see in a bad movie!
The way she treated people in general was just uncalled for and unacceptable. How was she ever expecting to get out of here if she acted so wild all the time? He didn't understand her, and he was probably glad he didn't.
"Alvin, "said Dr. Walters, breaking Alvin's silent train of thought, "there's something I want you to know about Brittany Cutler. All of my other patients have been told this, but because of your past, I'm hoping you'd understand and be able to relate a little better."
Alvin waited, sitting up in his seat and paying all of his attention to the doctor's words.
"Brittany's very sick, Alvin."
Alvin scoffed, "Yeah, no kidding!"
"No, I don't think you quite understand."
The red-clad boy was silent again, allowing the doctor to continue, "Now, I want you to know that I'm not allowed to tell you a lot of why she's as ill as she is, but I just want you to know that Brittany Cutler has been through more in her life than I've seen in any adolescent through my twenty years as a psychiatrist and I will not tolerate another patient of mine harrassing her."
The temperature of the room seemed to drop significantly as the doctor's words hung in the air. Alvin's curiosity was rising once again, causing him to lean forward a little.
"What...what happened to her?"
The doctor took off his glasses, inhaling deeply.
"She was a victim of significant domestic abuse as a child. I'm not permitted to tell you what exactly happened to her, but because of the incidences of her childhood, she struggles to deal with reality due to post traumatic stress. However, she recently has also been showing signs of a different adolescent condition, which we had no knowledge of when she was let out of the A wing. The staff has considered putting her back in the A ward if her attitude persists."
Alvin nodded, suddenly feeling a weight on his shoulders while the doctor spoke.
"Now, Alvin...don't want you to give her a hard time, okay? I realize that her episode during art therapy today upset you, but please try to keep your distance from her if you want to avoid her psychological meltdowns."
The boy remained silent and motionless in his seat, not even blinking. It was possible that he might have been feeling guilty for bad-mouthing her not even five minutes ago.
"So... is that post-traumatic thing the reason why she wakes up and starts screaming at night?"
"Well, we can't be sure since she rarely communicates what it is she sees in her dreams, but she says that the same one happens every night."
This story was all too familiar. That's when it hit him: the way Brittany is reacting here is a lot like the way Alvin was reacting outside the hospital.
This must've been what it felt like for Dave whenever Alvin lashed out, creating more and more drama as the days went by. Dave must've hated watching Alvin while he got worse and worse every day, waking up screaming in the middle of the night after having the same dream about the stained glass. The way Brittany had terrorized the art room with acrylic paint was a lot like how Alvin lit the auditorium on fire a year and a half previous - it was no fun for anyone, to say the least. His ill-considerate act was much worse than what Brittany did, seeing as it caused collateral damage, but it still brought to his mind the remorseful thoughts of how awful it must've been for the drama club and the stage crew when they found out that their performance space was sabotaged.
Lastly, the way Brittany lashed out during art therapy reminded him of how he took his anger out on Theodore, the friendly boy from school; how Alvin made the little green-clad chipmunk cry on the sidewalk after he simply put out his cigarette. Alvin began to feel pangs of regret for how he treated Theodore, the only kid in school who actually was trying to help him. It was like how Alvin was the only one who seemed to be concerned for Brittany, or how he was the only one who cared to even do so much as sit next to her. Alvin figured that during group therapy when people were harrassing Brittany, that must've been what it was like for Theodore when people made fun of Alvin during class all the time.
Suddenly, Alvin wished more than anything that he could apologize to Theodore and to those he'd hurt. Yes, Theodore may have followed him around like a puppy and stuck around even when he wanted to be alone, but he didn't deserve to be so cruelly cast away after just trying to help. And who knows how many nights Dave had been kept awake by Alvin's persistant screaming! Yes, Alvin still held a few grudges against Dave, but that didn't keep him from feeling guilty about all those times Dave had to come into Alvin's room at night and hold him until he quieted down. Dave had always been there for Alvin for as long as he could remember. The two did more fighting these days than anything else, but he knew that Dave still cared about him.
And as for the school's drama club, it must've been a real heartbreaker having to cancel the show because of what Alvin did. All that money that was taken out of the school's funds for supplies and instead invested in the thousands to repair the damages made by just him alone. It was all his fault.
Everything was his fault.
"Alvin? Alvin, are you okay?" Inquired Dr. Walters, bringing the boy back into reality, "Do you want to talk about what you're feeling right now?"
"No," he replied, still not quite in touch with reality yet, "is this session over yet?"
Alvin was nauseating himself with guilty thoughts of 'could've, should've, would've' until 11 o'clock rolled around. It was almost time for lunch; he knew that because his stomach was relentlessly growling for it's next meal, as it usually did around 11am. After finally being released from his one-on-one therapy session, he would now be escorted to the dining hall.
Dr. Walters and Alvin started down the hallway toward the cafeteria, the numbers on the door descending gradually as they approached the corner to the C hallway. Before turning, Alvin began to hear something that was just out of his range of hearing. It was melodic, clear, familiar...
It was soothing and mysterious, yet familiar.
Alvin paused for a moment, taking in the sound and trying to determine which direction it was coming from; it wasn't where they'd just been, nor was it where they were going, but it was near. Once the doctor saw that Alvin was no longer beside him, he stopped and waited.
"What're you waiting for, Alvin?"
"Shh." hushed Alvin, putting a finger up to silence the doctor, "Do you hear that?"
The sound continued, getting gradually louder, then softer. Alvin could vaguely identify the melody of the sound: someone - most likely female - was singing. And it wasn't just any singing; it was soulful, hypnotic, delicate... Alvin waited for the sound to get louder so he can follow it to the source. He wasn't sure what'd come over him, but he just had to know who the owner of such a lovely voice was.
Meanwhile, the doctor was grinning.
"She's got a beautiful voice doesn't she, Alvin?" said Dr. Walters, amused by Alvin's odd behavior.
"Who does? Who is that?" pressed Alvin hastily. He was anxious to know who belonged to this heavenly sound. The doctor simply laughed, shaking his head.
Alvin waited another moment, taking in the perfect music; it was enchanting him so much, he was ignoring his growling stomach. The doctor retreated to Alvin's side and urged him forward gently, chuckling.
"Come along, Alvin. I fear that if you don't get some food in that stomach of yours, your stomach will start eating your other organs!"
The boy unwillingly moved forward and away from earshot of the music, following the doctor's orders.
"Wow..." Alvin whispered to himself, mystified. The boy was positively bewitched. Eating lunch would be a hard endeavor with such a melodic resonance on his mind. He was anxious to finish before the sound ceased, letting the usual silence return to the hospital hallways.
Thanks for reading, you guys! I mean it! Thanks so much!
So... who does the voice belong to? What will happen the next time Alvin comes in contact with Brittany? Is Alvin beginning to change and realize new things about himself?
I'll be updating soon! Reviews are VERY appreciated!
-Blythe