I Flew a Kite (Jack Johnson)

Chapter One

Her red braided hair fell off her small, bony shoulder as she moved her game piece; she battles anorexia. He smiled dully and moved his game piece to the winning spot; he's depressed. He leaves his hair in his face and reads his book in disgust; he has anger issues. She rubs her wrists with agony, sobbing her feelings; she's suicidal. I rock myself on the dingy couch along the wall of our shared game room; I'm mentally unstable.

My forehead sinks into the gap between my knees, why am I here? I felt my eye twitch and my hands jerk as I grasped a hold of the real world, gasping for air. My thoughts ate my normality like a hungry wolf. The small girl with red hair began to close her eyes, I watched her fall to the floor. "She's just skin and bones!" Gavin screamed crazily. She collapsed and he grabbed her shoulders and shook her, "There's nothing left to take," he whispered the last words to himself. Intentionally he was probably talking to God, He knows why all of this is happening to us. To her.

A nurse rushed her to the infirmary, "Goodbye Margret," Gavin's tangly hair fell in his face at his attempt to flip it out of the way, he sighed heavily and in agony. He's lost another friend. "Get over it you coward," Xander cackled. "Shut up, Xander." Maggie stopped crying for a split second and then continued with her never ending sobs. The guidance counselor motioned for me to follow, I tensely stood. Burning Gavin with my eyes, I couldn't help but stare at his sadness. He turned his frown into a slight curve and then his face dropped.

My hands followed the movements of my legs as I marched to his office. "Karrie, it looks like you're doing better," he chuckled sarcastically. My fist hit his desk hard, "What," hesitation, "does that mean?" I relaxed my fist and calmed myself down. He nodded his head, "It means you're learning to control yourself." He snatched his pen from the cup and scribbled numbers and letters on a piece of official looking paper.

"You've wanted to leave forever, he started, "we think you're ready." My twitch of nervousness flicked onto my face, "I can't leave. I have never wanted to leave. I have nobody to go to. Please don't make me, I-I love it here," I grabbed a piece and paper and ripped it in half and threw it around the room, "I'm crazy! Psychopath! Idiotic lunatic!" I slammed my hands on his desk harshly and loudly. "I don't want to leave!" I screamed and ran my hands through my knotty hair. A doctor ran through the door with a shot, "Karrie," he started, threatening me with his hands. I was shaking, I can't leave. Where will I go? What if I loose control in front of someone I love? What if my family doesn't accept me again? What if they all hate me? What is they abuse me and beat me and God knows what? Does nobody want me here? Tears streaked down my pale face as I felt a pinch in my arm. I fell into the arms of the strong doctor,

"She'll be awake in about an hour," he turned his body and carried me out. I wasn't completely asleep, my body fights off the urge to black out. My eyes crept at the three people in the lobby, the familiar faces alerted my eyes. "My baby," my father caressed my face softly. I couldn't move, the shot paralyzed my muscles. He grabbed me, two other people thanked the doctor and I saw it. The blinding light of day, one I haven't seen for weeks. Months. These people I call my family think they can just leave me here for my entire life, and then waltz back into it like everything is fine and dandy? No, I don't want to go. Who do they think they are? What's going to happen to Gavin, Maggie, or even Xander? I need them, they need me.

The sunlight hit my skin like fire, it felt pleasurably painful. My twitch came back more than ever, when I was set into a car and strapped in. The car smelled clean and new. The same way it smelled when they left me here. Conversation was held to a minimum on our way to a house I haven't been to in 7 years.

My muscles, slowly but surely, started to regain consciousness. I wiggled my toes and twitched my fingers, "Mom what is she doing?" A boy. A boy I have never heard before, is he my replacement? "She's waking up," my mother sighed happily. If he's my replacement, then why am I here? My eyes forced themselves open as my father unbuckled me. "It's been a while," he actually had the nerve to smile at me. I glared and tried to move my arms, they limply fell to my side. He took me inside and flopped me onto a couch. It smelled of air fresheners and normality.

It was an hour before I could fully stand up and move around. "Karrie," a woman I claimed as my mother sighed. She hugged me and I tensed under her motherly touches. "Why am I here," my eyes began to well at the unfamiliarity of this place, "I don't even know you." I pointed accusingly at the boy on the couch. My hair fell in my face as I ran my hands through my hair again. "Oh sweetie, that's your brother. His name is Dylan, he's 15." He shrugged innocently and I glared.

It was an hour or so before my so called parents convinced me to take a shower. My mother led me into the bathroom, where she turned on the water and laid out a robe and pajamas. "Wash your hair with this," she held up a blue bottle, "wash your body with this," she held up a purple bottle. I snatched them away as she turned on the water. She stayed in the bathroom as I bathed, I don't mind but my mind is still processing the series of unfortunate events.

My room happened to be right next to my "brother's." We didn't talk that day, but apparently they're taking us to visit a few old friends. "You'll remember them once you see them." My father reassured me many times. It was time to go to sleep. I already miss the rusty beds with the thin mattresses that squeaked when Maggie sobbed. I miss tossing and turning because of the uncomfortableness. I miss Xander screaming at Gavin to stop talking to his parents, that weren't there. I miss Margret slipping into bed with me when she had nightmares. I miss being insane.

Why are they doing this, they don't want me anyways. Don't I have a say in how I live my life?
Obviously not, you idiot.
There they go, the monsters in my head. I rolled on the beige bed and tried to sleep, but I couldn't. I lay awake, waiting for answers. Maybe something will give me a sign. "Something," I yelled. "Something!" I screamed louder in frustration, footsteps echoed around me as I began to cry. My father rubbed my back, "It'll be alright. Just go to sleep." I fell asleep crying, in his arms. He seemed to silence the voices, his gentle nature reminded me of the night before I left to go to the hospital. He rocked me to sleep, and the next morning told me we're going to the park. I didn't care if he was taking me back, I just need his voice with me.