Chapter 3

Alright Mortals, I'm back, and guess what? I found me a Beta! Check out Becky Astin-Camp if you would. She's a brilliant writer, and I told you to, so now you must do as I say. If you find a mistake in this, you can't be mad at me anymore. I'm just kidding.

So in other important news, this will be a Mitchsen fic, with a Chaubrey friendship. Any complaint, I'll be happy to field them. Later. Or never. Both work for me. I would like suggestions on how this should all pan out though. Leave a review or PM me with ideas!

Also, thank you to everyone that reviewed, said nice things, or just read my humble work. Every review, read and follow makes my life a happier place! And shout out to those people not in the US reading this. I find it ridiculously awesome that people in Sweden, Ukraine, Belgium and many other places are reading this. It's fucking awesome, that's what it is!

This chapter sucks by the way ... I just have to get everyone introduced and all though. I swear to the aca-gods though, the next chapter will be better, and if its not, may my vocal chords be ripped out by wolves.

As we all know, I am a poor person who owns nothing. If I did, it is unlikely I'd be writing this.

When Aubrey was younger, she never talked about her feelings. She kept conversations to a minimum, and never made any friends. Exactly the way her father believed that she should.

Mr. Posen did not believe in affection. He didn't believe in friendship because 'friends were pointless idiots who are a waste of time. It is far better to have a good business partner then a so called friend that will turn on you in a moment'.

He thought conversation was only to check progress and to tell a person where corrections were needed. In fact, all of the conversations that Aubrey ever had with her father involved either him telling her to work harder, or him telling her to remain focused on the plan.

Never once did her father ask about her day. Instead, when she was a child, when he would speak to her, he would ask if she'd had any failures during the day; never once did her father say to her 'hey honey, how was school?' or even 'how are you?', it was always 'what did you do wrong at school today?' or on those rare days that Aubrey had felt that she'd done well and didn't need to make a list of everything she did wrong that day it was 'Stay focused on the plan Aubrey'.

As a child, all of this transferred over to Aubrey. She never made friends, and anytime she spoke with some one was to tell them they did something wrong and they needed to fix it, or she was giving a speech to the class for a project. Needless to say, Aubrey never had the best social skills.

Even as an adult, Aubrey maintained her social exile. In college, her father made sure that she had a single dorm room so that she wouldn't ever have any distractions. Any attempts by other students to get to know her were ruthlessly shot down, and Aubrey NEVER EVER went to a college party.

Instead, she studied hard. At her father's insistence that she be a well rounded person, that apparently meant she had to do some sort of sport. So she chose to run, which was something she actually kind of enjoyed and quickly joined the track team. She never spoke to her teammates though.

However that was okay, because she was fast.

She broke the record for the fastest mile, with a time of 4 minutes exactly and her 100 meter dash was around 9 seconds. When she was made captain of the track team, in her senor year, this was the only time she'd ever speak to her teammates. Even then, it was only to tell them to run more or work on their technique.

As always she strives for perfection. And perfection never needed to carry pointless conversations with people.

After college, she had to be taught how to socialise at parties but in true Aubrey fashion, she learnt the art of small talk quickly. Her fake smile and laugh as well as her apparently genuinely interested in pictures of small babies look were all just part of the act.

The Barden Psychiatric Treatment Center was one of the best in the country.

It had the highest rate of re-assimilation into normal society for patients and also had the best overall cure rate for serious mental illnesses. The psychiatrists and doctors at Barden were some of the best in the world and pioneers in their chosen fields of practice.

A broken, battered and unstable Aubrey was sent to Barden with the hope that perhaps she too could move on from the demons of her past.

Everything about Barden just oozed positivity. The outside was beautiful and large, colorful flower gardens were abundant. There were tranquil areas purely for relaxation and quiet. There was a small potting shed for those that gardening providing healing. The generous sized pond, with copious amounts of koi carp and water lilies, reflected the sky on a clear day. It looked like you were floating in the sky when you stood at the edge. Outdoor activities were encouraged and those that painted for a hobby were allowed outside to spend the day in the sun. There were also the organised activities, gentle sports and kite flying if encouragement to get some healthy fresh air was needed. A couple of picnic tables and seating areas were set up, simply for those to enjoy the outdoors if the weather was nice.

On the outside, Barden looked like a brilliant paradise that would be the perfect place for people to heal at.

The inside was just as nice. Walls were painted warming, stable colors and everything had a homey feel to it. The lobby had sofas and big plush couches where most other facilities had cold plastic chairs. The halls had art prints hanging from them, and every few feet, there was a small table with a vase of freshly cut flowers on them.

The rooms that patients stayed in were called dorms. The locking of doors was prohibited, unless a patients particular illness required it for their own safety or if there was an emergency. Patients who were deemed suitably stable enough to share with another human being were roomed with one other person and patients were actively encouraged to customize their space; within reason of course.

In short, aesthetically, Barden was an excellent, modern facility.

The staff of Barden was just as incredible as the building. Dr. Benjamin "Benji" Applebaum was one of the greatest brain doctors of the century. His medical research found major breakthroughs in previously untreatable or difficult illnesses like Autism, severe PTSD, short term memory loss and schizophrenia, just to name a few.

Dr. Luke Bryant was a brilliant British psychologist that excelled with testing new treatments and counseling methods. His unique and strangely strict routines allowed the patient to feel in control without actually having to manage their own emotions by themselves.

Finally rounding out the team, was Dr. Chloe Beale. Dr. Beale was the most promising psychologist of her generation. She was able to reach the previously untreatable. Her compassion, care and general bubbly nature broke through the toughest exteriors, calmed the most troubled of hearts and brought light to those stuck in the dark.

This was the team that was to try and reach Aubrey.

Aubrey hadn't just lost her way. She wasn't one of those patients that just needed some time to rest, to pain pictures or pot a few plants or just have a sympathetic person to talk to. No, she was not just broken, she was completely shattered. Nothing of her old spark remained. Her once bright green eyes were dull, and the only time anything was seen in her eyes was when they flashed with fear.

She was so traumatized, so broken by what she went through, that it was deemed, that for the moment, she would not have a roommate. Aubrey was extremely skittish around more then one person, and anytime a man came within even ten feet of her, she went into a blind panic, curling into a tight ball, sobbing and begging for mercy, pleading for everyone, everything to just go away. Yes, Aubrey needed more then just help.

She needed a fucking miracle.

"Alright, so this will be your dorm for the next few weeks or months; the length of time here will all depends on you." A nurse (who Aubrey didn't care to remember the name of) said, as she pushed open the dorm door, quickly standing aside to let Aubrey in. "The telephone on the side is for internal calls only. You can call the front desk, your psychiatrist, the nurse's station ..."

Aubrey stopped listening to the nurse, and instead opted to look around her new room. It was painted a nice yellow color, with a bed in the one corner and a desk in the other. The window in the back of the room had a nice view of the lake, and through it, she could see some patients around it. The boxes with the few possessions she chose to bring with her were sitting in the middle of the floor as per her wishes.

She really didn't want anyone to touch her stuff.

"... alright, so if there's anything else you need, just call." The nurses last statement drew Aubrey's attention back to her. "Your first group session is at 3 I believe, which is just two hours from now. If you need any help settling in, like I said just call and either myself or others will come and help you!"

Aubrey just looked away and nodded. She would never call. She didn't want to be here, shouldn't be here. She should be resting peacefully, without any worries. She shouldn't be alive. She was a disgusting worthless mess, not even worth being called human. She was spineless and had let her father dictate her life. Let her father force her to have sex with whomever necessary. She was disgusting.

However, no matter what her thoughts were on this, there was no point in doing nothing. She was probably going to be here for a while, probably have to pretend to 'get better' so that she could finish the plan.

Might as well unpack and get this over with.

Two hours later, Aubrey found herself sitting with a circle of people that was supposed to be her 'group therapy session' fellows.

Whatever.

The woman sitting at the head (would it be called the head seeing as a circle has no start or finish, but anyway) of the group was named Dr. Chloe Beale.

Dr. Beale seemed nice enough. She had REALLY blue eyes and bright red hair, a brilliant smile that she flashed whenever someone made her laugh, and encouraged everyone to participate. Aubrey wanted to scoff. She had no intentions of ever telling anyone, let alone people she didn't know about her fucking problems. Fuck no. But the group participation seemed to be Dr Beale's favourite time of day, judging by the amount she was bouncing around on her chair.

There was a large, blonde Australian woman in the group that insisted that everyone called her Fat Amy. Fat Amy was hilarious, entertaining the group with impossible tales of her times in Tasmania. She apparently had multi personality disorder, and throughout the session would randomly turn into Patricia. Patricia was the exact opposite of Fat Amy. She was serious and talked of her time in an underground sex ring. Aubrey found it all a little creepy actually.

Another girl in the group was Stacie. Stacie was a tall brunette that had a tendency to make inappropriate innuendos every ten seconds. Stacie apparently had errotomania, and thought that random people were in love with her, and that Brad Pitt or some other celebrity she'd never met would come and whisk her out of this hell hole. She seemed nice, but a little ditzy in Aubrey's opinion.

Also in the group was a strange Asian girl named Lily. Aubrey was unfortunately sitting next to her, and could hear every creepy thing the girl said. EVERYTHING she said involved some form of death or torture. She now understood why this seat was open when she arrived. Lily was fucking scary. She didn't even want to know what the fuck illness she had.

Sitting to Aubrey right was Cynthia Rose or CR for short. She had a gambling problem. This turned into a drug problem which turned her into a prostitute. Honestly, Aubrey couldn't care less about CR's problems. She chose her fucked up life style. It was her fault she was here, so why wouldn't she shut the fuck up and get over it.

Finally, there were three other girls in the group. Ashley, Denise, and Mary-Elise. She didn't know too much about them. She had stopped listening to everyone about 20 minutes ago.

"Aubrey, care to say anything?" Dr. Beale's question brought her back to the group.

When Aubrey remained silent, Dr. Beale refused to give in and just let Aubrey get on with her life. Her eyes widened as she looked at the newest member of the group.

"Come on now!" She said, actually pouting when Aubrey wouldn't look up. "You just came here. You must have SOMETHING to say about this place. A complaint about the food? A comment about you roommate? ANYTHING?"

"I don't have a roommate" Aubrey said succinctly.

"Oh well then ..." Dr. Beale said, scanning her eyes to her notes. "... well then how are you settling in?"

Aubrey just sighed. CR placed a hand on her back, though it was supposed to be a comforting thing but Aubrey flipped out.

With a shout, she jumped out of her seat, punched CR in the face, and then started to hyperventilate. In the distance, she heard Dr. Beale call for a sedative over the rooms intercom, but she didn't care. No one was going to touch her. Never again. Never.

When Dr. Beale came close to her, Aubrey sprinted away. There was no fucking way she was going to let some God damn shrink near her. She'd only say some bull shit thing, trick her into a false sense of security and then sell her off to the highest bidder. It's what people did. Fuck no was that happening again.

FUCK NO.

She stopped dead in her tracks though, when she came crashing into someone; a rather short someone actually with pretty brown hair. She knocked the brunette to the ground rather hard, and for a minute Aubrey was afraid she'd hurt this new person. And despite everything, Aubrey wanted no harm to come to anyone else. She was truly sorry until the person sat up and started ranting at her.

"What the fuck man? What the hell is wrong with you? Scratch that, I actually don't care, and whatever is wrong with you, you can sort out with Chloe later. Why the hell were you running? Dear God, if you want to run, why the fuck don't you do so later? Not here, or around me."

With that, she turned away, and stormed back to her seat.

"Oi, can we be finished with his session Doc?" Fat Amy spoke for the first time in the last few minutes. "New girl wants to run, it seems and I'm famished?"

"Yeah sure" Dr. Beale said, placing her clipboard down on the nearest chair. "Same time tomorrow guys?"

As if any one had a choice in the matter.

As Aubrey went to walk out of the therapy session and go back to her room, She heard her name being called. With a sigh, Aubrey turned around and stood a clear eight paces away from Dr. Beale.

"I'm sorry for what happened earlier..." Dr. Beale began "None of the girls knows anything about you, or your condition, so stuff like that happens sometimes. I'll make sure no one touches you again."

"Thank you doctor" Aubrey said as she turned away.

"Aubrey?" Dr. Beale said, in her usual chipper and happy voice. "Call me Chloe."

"Okay Doct- Chloe." Aubrey turned away again and was at the door, when she heard Chloe tell her one last thing.

"You know Aubrey, I'm here for you. We all are. I know you've been through some rough shit, but I know you're stronger than all of it. Let me help you get better. Let others help you. No one here is going to hurt you, I promise."

Without so much as a glance over her shoulder to show that she had heard Chloe, Aubrey walked out of the meeting room, and back to her room.