Escaping Darkness

2

"Connor," he grunts.

"Connie," I say immediately. Come on, Connie, will you please just talk to us? We're trying to help you, sweetie.

It's him, I realize with a start.

He narrows his eyes at me, and then he turns and starts walking away.

"Hey!" I say.

He ignores me, of course. I shake my head. When I look again, he's gone, I only see his back as he disappears around the side of the hospital.

***

"Stop, David!" I scream, laughing.

He's tickling me. The sun is shining on us, and my hair is blowing in the breeze. My eyes are closed. I'm happy here.

"I love you," he says, when his fingers pause the tickling-torture.

He kisses me.

"I love you," I whisper.

I open my eyes. His eyes are widened in horror, I look down, blood everywhere.

My wrists are covered in red, my shirt is soaking through. I'm trying to cover myself, I don't want him to see. He's backing away, like I'm a monster.

"Who are you?" he whispers. "Who would do that to themselves?"

His voice echoes through my mind, over and over, who are you?

I start to scream. I hold my head in my hands. Make it stop. Make it stop.

He's leaving. He's walking away.

"Stop, David!" I scream. This time there's no laughter. I'm alone, bloody and screaming.

I wake up, choking on a scream. I'm gasping, sure that a panic attack is on it's way. I press my hands to my mouth, trying to hold my breath.

"Who's David?" says a voice.

I gasp. "Seriously? What are you doing in here?" My surprise at Connor being here stopped the panic, and my throat opened up again.

Connor shrugs. He's sitting near my closet, a book in hand. It's dimly lit in my room because he's got my lamp on.

"Couldn't sleep," he says.

"This is my room," I say. "You realize that, don't you?"

He shrugs. "Yeah."

"Okay," I say. I roll over, pulling my sheet over my head. We say nothing for a good, long.... five minutes.

"Fine, I'll bite," I say. "Why can't you sleep?"

He snorts. "As if I would tell you."

"Okay," I say. I pull the sheet over my head again, squeezing my eyes closed. I hear him huff.

"I'm not used to this place, alright. I don't like how scratchy the sheets feel. I hate this place."

That makes two of us.

We're both silent, breathing, breathing.

"You'll get used to it." I say this, but even being here for months hasn't made me used to it.

"Yeah," he says. He sighs. "Yeah."

***

"Give me a story and we can call it quits. One real, true story, and you can go."

Dr. Huy leans forward, rests her head on her folded hands.

"Fine. Let me think."

I don't want to tell her anything, but I want to go back to my room and read, so I think.

"I had a boyfriend," I say.

She is looking at me. Waiting.

I say nothing, running my fingers over the scars. Her eyes track my movement, so I sit on my hands.

"His name is David. He was a football player." I'm already uncomfortable discussing my life before - before this place.

"Did David make you happy?"

"Yeah," I said. "Sometimes, he did."

"What about the times when he didn't?"

My throat closes up. "I don't want to - I can't - I -" I stop.

"I see," she says. And she does, more than I want her to. "You can go, Sarah. Thank you."

I get up, my head down, bangs falling into my eyes. I keep my head down as I walk down the corrider, and run straight into someone.

"Watch it, bitch," a girl hisses. Her eyes look wild. I try not to make eye contact. She doesn't like that. "What?" she says. "You think you're better than us, all of us."

"No, I really don't."

She shoves at me. I stumble, a little. I grasp at my scars, holding onto any sanity I have left, try not to react.

"What are those from, huh?" she says, viciously. Her eyes trail down my arms. Her smile is wide with insanity. She grabs my wrist, digging in her fingers. "I bet that hurt."

"Leave her alone," says someone, pissed off. I feel a hulking figure right behind me, and then his hand comes down over her's. "Take your hand off her. Now."

Her eyes widen, and she lets go. She scuttles down the hall, looking back once and grins, teeth glinting like fangs.

I turn to Connor, his eyes pale blue. I say nothing, and start to walk to my room.

"No thank you?"

"Thanks," I say dryly.

I turn to look at him again, and the corners of his mouth are turned up a little at the edges.

"Do you have any books that aren't mind numbingly depressing?"

"No," I say, and now my mouth is turning up at the edges, too.

"I should've expected as much."

I roll my eyes. I hear him snort and his retreating footsteps.

I know later on, I'll wake up to him reading in my room.

It sends my heart racing, but for a different reason this time.