Entering Bedlam.

Chapter One- Welcome Home

Chapter One- Welcome Home.

“I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.” 

- Edgar Allan Poe

I had always loved taking long car rides, it always gave me time to think, even from a young age I would sit in the back and just contemplate everything as I watched the road disappear beneath us. The soft hum of the engine and the gentle swaying of the vehicle had overtime become therapeutic for me and nine times out of ten lulled me to sleep in moments. But, not anymore. Now the sound of an engine was something to be compared to wailing cats and the gentle rocking of the car made my stomach nauseous. Actually I don't enjoy much these days and it all begun with one trip in particular.

There was nothing but green fields on either side of the car, normally I  would have happily sat back to enjoy the beautiful view but not today. Not while my father sped down the long country road so fast that everything there was to see became one big blur and definitely  while a sick feeling of anticipation whirled in my gut. 

My father and I used to do this all the time, back when I could standing being in the same car as him for a long period of time or for any amount really. I recalled fondly of how we would blast the radio and sing along to any song that played, not caring if we were tuneless or didn't know the words, once there was no one around to hear us we didn't mind. Sometimes my mother would accompany us, although not frequently as she claimed our bad singing gave her a headache. As true as that may be it was only half the story, she knew it was our daddy/daughter time and chose not to intrude on that. 

That was when she was alive though, when everything made sense and when my father cared enough to spend anytime with me at all. I miss those days now. Actually I crave them as I recall the bittersweetness of how things used to be.

"Addie it wont be long now."

My fathers voice came from the front drivers seat as his eyes flashing up to meet mine in the rear view mirror. People always commented on how I  had his eyes, deep royal blue in color and perfectly round in shape, back then I was proud to look like him, but now when I see those eyes, cold and surrounded by wrinkles, I wished I could rip them out.

"Perhaps I would be more excited if you actually told me where you were taking me."

I hissed back. My eyes going back to the window so I no longer had to look at him. When my Father had burst into my bedroom that morning and declared I would be joining him for a 'family outing', I had been reluctant at best. I even tried locking myself in the bathroom for twenty minutes just to see how long it would take for him to give up and leave. Normally I could count on one hand how long it took for him to become bored of my tantrums, but today he had insisted I come along and in the end- as always- he won.

"Addison, please stop whining, my poor head can't take anymore of your screechy little voice. Do we have any painkillers dear, she has given me such a headache."

This voice came from the front of the car also, however it wasn't my fathers. No, this was the very bane of my existence, my reason for hating my father and everything that goes with him. You see, after my mother passed, my father being the very sentimental person he is, mourned her for about four months. It was then he met Elizabeth Clarke, the love of his life. She was 34, ten years his junior, beautiful, smart and a grade A bitch. 

At the time they met she was his secretary which led me to believe that the affair between them started while my mother was still alive. Back then I wondered if he was actually capable of that kind of betrayal but now I wouldn't put it past the sneaky bastard.

They dated for three weeks before the got married, which meant my mother was barely dead six months. Dad had never been one to enter into things lightly but it would seem Elizabeth was the exception to the rule.