Emily's language

From the protagonist's perspective

No. No. No this is can't be happening. Why is this happening? Where am I? Oh no. No. No. No! I can't be here. All I could see was a red stripe along the wall of a recognised room. Painfully, recognised.

Then all the memories came flooding back.
It was only a party. Why am I like this?
Oh there was a really cute Girl too.
I tried to talk to her but she walked away and people started laughing at me and I ran to the bathroom. I started hearing voices.

"they're laughing at you."
" they don't like you."
" You should hurt them."
"they deserve it."
I tried ignoring them but the voices crowded in and smothered me. I backed into a corner and started crying. My vision went blurry. Then I saw black.

*****

This had happened before. It was a few times as well. It started when I was nine and then carried on. Just the panic attacks and the blackouts. Why me? Why do I have this? Why?

I remember when I was diagnosed. I was at my ninth birthday party. There was so many people that mum invited - none of them liked me.
I was blowing out my candles when everybody crowded around me and my mum left the room.

Suddenly everyone was laughing at me; spittimg, pulling my hair and hitting me.
Then someone liked a big scoop of icing off of my cake and spat it at me so I couldn't see. They set my hair on fire with the candles and I couldn't take it anymore. I had a nervous breakdown and blacked out then I found myself here in this familiar room with cuts, bruises and burnt hair.
They ran some tests and diagnosed me with Schizophrenia, I have meds for it now. Thing is: They don't work.

I screamed and punched the wall in anger. It cracked.

*ding*
The door opened. my mum and my therapist appeared.

"Emily. Why? I told you not to go to that party. You know what those people did when you were nine-"

I cut her off
"I just wanted to feel normal; to be Normal,"
I said, longingly

"I know sweetie," she began "but sometimes, mother knows best. And I know that-"

"if I may intervene here," interrupted my therapist " you may be the reason she's been having all of these breakdowns. You see, you giving Emily all these rules is giving her a psychological response which makes her think that situations are worse than they are."

"so, it's my fault?" she asked in horror
" not entirely"
" so yes "
" miss Lott, calm down"
" what are you tying to say?"
" noth-"
"how dare you!"
Then I saw that the door was open.
I took one look and slipped away.
From there, it was easy; I bolted for the door and slid out the door just as someone was leaving.

Timed just right. You see, I may have schizophrenia, but I also have a photographic memory. I remember formulae and algorithms
And visualize it right in front of me. All I had to do was make some quick calculations, based on my speed, agility and how fast the door was.

And I'm out.