The Incredible League of Goth Pizza Haters (RH)

Part 51

Author's Note: Here's an extra chapter 'cause I feel bad for taking so long with the last five.

---Sylvia---

I don't remember going to bed. Maybe that's what made it so much worse. I couldn't remember laying down and falling asleep that time because laying down and falling asleep is something you do countless times in life. It is a part of our daily cycle.

I was in the Quiet Room. The Quiet Room is just as it is, a room to sit in the silence. They put you in here if you have an episode or are starting things with the other patients. It's usually not too bad. Some people even requested to go there sometimes.

But I didn't want to be there.

There was a horrible, familiar pain in my stomach. It stabbed me, crippling my insides and I sank to the floor. I cried out for staff, or anyone to come and help me. No one came. No one came and soon I came to acknowledge the cobwebs in the corners of the room. The chipping paint on the walls and the dirty, unchanged sheets of the bed. The carpet had torn away to just scratched concrete and I knew without having to check that the door was rusted shut. Panic overcame me as I wondered how long I'd been there.

Had they forgotten me?

I tried to stand but the pain lowered me back to the cold ground. I knew what I had to do. I knew what this pain meant. I looked at the white walls and floor in a dream daze, as if the solution would crawl from between the cracks in the walls.

What did emerge wasn't a solution but another punishment.

Roaches, roaches from within the chipped pathways in the concrete came crawling out across the floor. They didn't touch me but circled around like an attacking army, surrounding their opponent on all sides. Soon I couldn't even see the floor. I didn't know if roaches could scream, but those were. They wailed in voices like nails across chalkboards and all sound was emphasized by the buzz of the electric lights above.

The pain struck again, sharp and twisting and I cried out. Then they were in my mouth. I tried spitting them out but I felt their legs stabbing foot holds down my throat. I stuck two fingers down my throat and tried to pull them out. Roaches everywhere. Touching my skin inside and out and soon they were in my belly. Burrowing in my organs. I was screaming and writhing as if that would make them stop.

I wouldn't say that's what did it, but something brought me to a reality I didn't immediately recognize as reality. A dark figure with wide eyes.

***

---Ricky---

I stayed up late watching TV. I flipped through a couple different channels, watching whatever seemed interesting. I did that, checking my phone on and off for a few hours until it was 2am and my eyelids were drooping.

I got up and turned off the tv. Whilst walking back to my room I heard something. I stopped and listened. They were coming from the guest room and they sounded like cries. A sort of whimpering...?

I knocked softly on the door.

"Via?" When there was no reply I inched the door open and peered in. She was lying in bed, white hair messy and visible in the dark. She was twitching and breathing heavily. Is she having a nightmare? I walked in and when I got closer I gently grabbed her shoulders and shook.

She opened her eyes and when she saw me she flinched away and shrieked. I stepped back, surprised and she began crying and hyperventilating, looking around like she didn't know where she was. She's disoriented, I realized.

"Whoa, whoa." I said, "Via, it's me. Are you okay?" She shook her head, hiccuping and I asked again, gentler, if she was okay and she winced. Via sat up straighter and began pulling at the bottom of her shirt. She pulled it up, looking oddly at her belly. I turned the bedside table lamp on and she pulled her shirt off, leaving her in just pants and a bra.

"Via?" I asked, heart in my throat. She was scratching at her skin and obviously having a panic attack. "Sylvia, look at me."

"It hurts, oh god it hurts.. I think.. I think.." I gripped her arms and she shuddered and flinched.

"Sylvia Deluca, look at me." We held eye contact for a few moments and she seemed to calm down a bit until there was a loud thump from somewhere in the house. I knew from experience that it was Dexter knocking over the same clock that he always did. He had an inexplicable grudge against it and every now and then I would hear him knock it to the ground.

Via didn't know this though and it sent her into another series of hysterics.

"He's here. He's here. No. No, I don't want to die. I don't want to die he'sgoingtokillme." She started scratching at her belly again and I pulled her hands away.

"Sylvia. Look at me. Look at me." Soon she met my eyes again, "You are safe. There is no one here to hurt you. I promise you - I promise, as long as you're here I will not let anyone hurt you. That was Dex knocking something over. You are safe. You are okay. I promise." she calmed down a bit.

"...You can't promise that..."

"I just did. I promise." I said, kissing her cheek, "I won't let Ian hurt you."

"I wasn't talking about Ian." she murmured and when I pulled away I saw how exhausted she looked. She was breathing almost normally now and looked like she was about to collapse back in the sheets.

"C'mon. Lay down." I said and she did, closing her eyes and sighing. Before pulling the sheets over her I tried my best to see what she'd done to her belly. There were red marks from her nails but she hadn't broken the skin. I got a good look at her scar. I'd seen it one other time at the lake but had tried not to stare to avoid making her feel uncomfortable. It was located just beneath her left breast, a bright pink line a few inches long. It didn't look to be over a year old as it hadn't faded too much yet. I pulled the sheets over her and she stirred and murmured something I couldn't hear. "What?"

"Can you stay here? Just for a little bit?" she opened her eyes again and looked at me, all tired and paranoid. I nodded, Sure, and after turning off the light I slipped into the other side of the bed. I removed my shirt and belt and found myself having trouble sleeping. Soon Sylvia fell asleep and I remained awake, thinking about her college days compared to mine. I remembered she'd told me about being taken to the hospital for surgery, and I was guessing that scar was the result. Soon I was thinking about mental illness and wondering what the hell kind of nightmare she'd had that had led her to such an anxiety attack. And who the hell was she talking about coming to get her if she hadn't meant Ian?

I realized how little I knew about her.