Past Midnight (Seven Minutes to Midnight #2)

August 7

Tell about a time that you did something that took a lot of nerve,

a time when you didn't follow the crowd.

That would probably be the time I told my friends I didn't want to become a mind-controlled vampire zombie like them.

I don't feel like that necessarily took a lot of nerve. In fact, I feel like a coward. Why should I feel that way? Surely being human and alive is better than being a mind-controlled vampire zombie, right? I never stood up and said, I want to be alive. I don't want to be a living dead thing that feeds on human blood. I was afraid the whole time. My friends hadn't been afraid to become vampires. They had thrown themselves at Lane and had a fairly painless looking transition. But that wasn't what I wanted.

I guess I hadn't even realized that becoming a vampire or killing myself wasn't what I wanted – you can include becoming a vampire as a kind of death, right? Most people think of vampires as immortal, and immortality sounds great. But I think about Lane, stuck at whatever age, stuck at 17 or however old he was – it's hard to tell, because he looks both old and young at the same time. That smooth, flawless skin of his, like he'd never grown a beard, it made him look young. But his eyes: they could see right through me. Like there was no thought in my head he couldn't read, because he'd been around long enough to know the entire range of human emotion.

Maybe not. There was something about me that was different from every other human he'd known, I'm sure of that. Something that made him want to play different games with me than he played with Veronica and Frank.

I only know he was playing some kind of game because of what Malakhai said. "You threaten us all with your petty games." For Lane, the games he played with Veronica and Frank and me were what made immortal life bearable for him.

Kind of like how our vampire games made mortal life bearable for me.

Like a cat toys with a mouse until it's dead, that was what Lane's games were like. Our games were all about imagination, not torture. Lane and I are completely different.

It's harder at night to come to these clear-cut conclusions. I lie in bed and think about those nights I spent with Lane, when I thought I had some control over him. "Wouldn't you prefer to capture me without all your supernatural powers? I wonder if you could even do that." I was daring him. Taunting him. Flirting. I wanted him to catch me.

Somewhere along the line I changed my mind. I didn't want to be caught. So I went to my father's house, an invitation-only hiding place. And I locked myself behind the brick walls I constructed in my mind. I hid.

Hiding is for cowards.

Even here at Willow House I'm hiding. This house is even better than invitation-only. There are people who stay up all night to keep me safe.

Right now, hiding is working for me.

Amy,

I want to apologize for reading your journal without your permission, and I will be explaining my reasons to you in person, but I'm sure you will be angry and may decide not to listen to my reasons, so I wanted to leave you a note explaining.

Your behavior has concerned me and many of the staff. You refuse to speak in your group sessions, and are often antisocial with the other residents. You also refuse to speak in our private therapy sessions. This refusal to communicate is only hindering your recovery, Amy. Then there is the matter of your medication, which we are aware that you've been purging.

After reading your journal, my fears have been confirmed, and your delusions have been running rampant for the three weeks you've been in treatment. It is vital for someone with your diagnosis to take medication to stop the delusions so we can work on your other issues.

You are a smart and determined girl, Amy. I know you can recover and live a full life even with a mental illness. First, however, you must accept your diagnosis.

Hopefully I can convince you to understand why I took this action at our meeting tomorrow, but if I can't, I hope you will read this and eventually understand that it was for your own good.

Dr. D