TRIGGER WARNING: SELF HARM
(Sadie's POV)
I lay in bed just to cry. Why can't these girls leave me alone? Haven't they tortured me enough? Wasn't I hurt enough?
The messages said horrible things. How I wasn't worth living. How I should go with my parents. How fat I was, and ways to fix it. How I had no friends. How pathetic I was. How I didn't deserve anything nice. But it was the last one that got me.
Unknown: Location — Byway Psychiatric Hospital
Unknown: Which one was your room? :)
How did they find out? None of my brothers could have said anything, could they? Going to this place was one of the most humiliating experiences for me, even though it helped.
It made me feel unwanted. It made me feel like I was a pain in the ass that no one wanted to deal with anymore. It's why I'm scared to talk to my brothers now.
Someone knocks on the door, so I hide under my covers. It opens, but I don't look to see who it is. I listen to the footsteps as they grow closer — Gavin.
He pulls the covers down and I smile up at him. He gives me a pitied look before crossing the room to close the door.
"What's wrong, Ella?" he asks. I shake my head, trying to keep the smile on my face. "Stop, come on. Tell me."
I shake my head again. "I can't tell you, you'll send me back."
"Back where? To the hospital?" I nod. "Never. I would never let that happen again, okay?"
"Okay." I whisper.
"Now tell me what happened."
I show him the Instagram comments, since that's where this started. Then showed him the texts.
"They know, Gavy, they know what happened." I sob. He pulls me up into his lap and presses my head into his chest. I cry there, letting him comfort me.
He rubs my back. "Listen, Ella, we're gonna change your phone number. The only people who will have it is family."
"And Ben?"
"Sure, Ben, too." He shushes me as I start to calm down. "Are you ready for bed?" I nod. "Okay, lets lay down."
He leans us back on my bed and pulls the covers over us. My eyes start to close and I lay my head in the crook of his shoulder.
"I love you, Sadie. Not a single thing those girls said is true, okay? You deserve the world." Gavin says. He's never been like this, but I'm happy he said it. I think I needed it.
"I love you, too."
(Ash's POV)
Since we're not touring our first school until tomorrow, Liam made me go to our current school today. I haven't had as much of an issue as my twin, so I should be okay.
After third period, I'm at my locker, switching books. I start to walk toward my next class when I see someone in the hallway.
Palmer.
What is he doing here? I heard he dropped out. Maybe he came back. Why would he come back?
I look around for someone I know. A friend, a brother, even a sister, but my brain can't seem to remember that she's not here.
A hand falls on my shoulder and I jump. I feel my eyes burn and his porch in front of me.
I can see the hallway, too, but it's almost like it's tucked behind Palmer's house.
Palmer is angry, asking me why I'm here. I'm nice, I explain, but he still pulls me into his house.
"Ash, Ash, listen to me, bud. It's October, 2019. You're at school, sophomore year. It's me, it's Cole, you're okay."
I hear the words but I can't reach them. I'm only thinking them. Why would Cole's voice be in my head?
Another punch and I scream out. My body hits the floor, but I'm already on the floor. They're hitting me and it hurts just the same.
One of them takes my hand, their faces start twisting into monstrous ones.
"Squeeze my hand, Ash. This is Cole's hand, squeeze my hand."
I keep crying. I squeeze the hand. I'm praised.
Palmer tells them to take me upstairs. It's a blur and I can't see it or hear it my name they're calling my name why my name—
Burn.
I can't breathe. The air is taken out of me as I'm held under the water. The cuts put in me screaming. It's bloody. The water just red. Then purple. Then black. And it's tar. It burns.
Can't breathe can't breathe my chest is tight and I want air and I want to go home and air.
I'm thrown down the stairs, crawling out of the door to see the porch. I turn my phone on and see Cole.
The hallway floor is in my view. I'm sobbing, my head against my brother, Cole holding me, my hand in his. It was his hand I was squeezing.
"Cole." I sob out.
He wraps his arms around me, his arm cupping my chin. I turn around to face him and just touch his features. It's really him, he's really here.
"I'm here, bud, I'm here. It's me." He rubs his thumbs under my eyes, trying to dry my tears. "Can you tell me the date today?"
I shake my head. "I couldn't even tell you that before the flashback." I laugh a little, him following.
"Okay, what month is it?"
I think. If I'm here, and this is real time, then it's October. "October?"
"Good, good job, bud. You did good."
Good.
"How are you feeling? Do we need to call Liam or Drew?"
"No, I should be good in a minute."
"Take your time. Here, my hands are here."
He holds them out for me and I take them, feeling every part of it. His skin feels like human skin. And his fingers have all the bones in the right place. And the nails feel like nails. And his palms have little lines on them, where they should be.
Eventually, I feel well enough to head back to class. Cole walks me there, something I don't mind. He did just help me after all. I don't want to be mean by telling him to go away, I know he just cares.
I get a text from Liam.
Liam: why aren't you in class?
Ash: I was feeling sick so I went to the bathroom and Cole found me. He's walking me to class rn
Liam: ok bud call me if you need to come home
I look to Cole before he leaves me and he gives me a questioning look. One that asks me if I'm okay. I nod in response, and open the door.
I take my seat in the back and the teacher looks at me sternly. My eyes are still red and puffy, and that's all it takes for her to soften her look.
After fourth period is lunch. I brought something this time, so I head to my locker to grab it.
The door slams and my arm is caught in someone's hand. He starts to drag me down the hall and I drop my lunch. I look over to who took me, but only see the back of someone's head.
I tug my arm back. "Let go!"
Their left hand grabs my arm now, their right moving to the back of my neck so I can't move it. I'm thrown into an empty classroom, my body hitting the floor.
I look up to see who's doing this and I'm met with the one face that's haunted me for over a year.
Palmer.
There are two other guys in here, both well built. I am, too, though. I've been working out ever since they attacked me, I have a defense.
Palmer takes a few hits on me unexpectedly. I try and push him off, try to punch him back, kick him, but the other two guys hold my arms down.
Palmer sits on my legs as he punches. He's punching and punching and I see him but it's behind the guys punching. He smells like Axe and peppermint.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Is he dead?"
They're dragging me around, punches, kicks, slices with a knife, it's everywhere.
I scream. I don't want that to happen again but it's happening again and he's right on top of me and punch.
My gut.
My face.
My throat.
I start gagging and wheezing as he kneels down onto my neck, strangling me.
I look above me and see the ceiling tiles. The lights. I get punched, my head whipping to the side. The whiteboard markers.
The other two guys get close enough. There's blood in my mouth. It doesn't taste very good. Their scent fills my nose, musty jock and cinnamon mints.
Palmer stands up and looks at his guys. I feel funny. I can't see the can't see what can't see.
"Did you get the things I told you to?" Palmer asks them.
I scream.
It's open my body is open the blood is pouring out and gushing out and I wanna go home home home home home.
Mom.
"Stop," I cry out. They laugh.
Something hits the ground next to me and I look over to it. Scissors. Something red drips off the blades.
I close my eyes. Their pain doesn't hurt so much anymore. Ouch. That's hot.
"Ash, Ash, come on! Wake up! Ash!" Miles sobs. "Here, here, squeeze, you can squeeze my hand."
There are two different hands holding mine. I squeeze them both and open my eyes. Both brothers are crying and they hug me.
I cough, but that hurts. My stomach hurts. On the outside. They help me sit up and everything that happened comes back to me.
I lean against Miles, wrapping my arms around him as I cry. If I can muffle any sound, I will. I haven't cried this much since Mom and Dad.
"Does it look as bad as it feels?" I ask.
Miles sighs. "I think only you can answer that. But your face is pretty bad."
He rubs my head a little.
"Okay, I called Liam, he should be here soon." Cole says, turning back to us.
"But my leg is cut off."
"It is not cut off, bud. It's cut, you're bleeding, but we'll be able to fix everything at home." Cole answers.
I nod, confused. Wasn't I burnt? Isn't my skin melting off? Isn't everything swelled and ugly? Or is this just what I came up with? I want to see.
A few minutes later, Liam, along with a few staff members burst through the door. I jump at the noise, worried it could be the guys again.
Liam makes a beeline for me, his eyes brimming with tears. He looks to the staff as he hugs me.
"Let me guess, you're not going to do anything about the people who did this, either?" Liam says angrily.
I let the three of my brothers help me up and walk out the door. Everything hurts, and I squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears. It doesn't help, though.
"Why don't I go get a wheelchair." One of the teachers says and she runs off before I can protest.
She comes back moments later with the chair. I don't want to admit how much better it feels. Liam pushes it until we get to the office.
"Do I need to sign them out or anything?" Liam says, annoyance still clear in his voice. They all shake their heads rapidly.
"No, no, no, you take them home, help him feel better." One says, ushering us toward the main hallway.
One staff member follows us to take the wheelchair back when we get to the car.
Liam lifts me up into the backseat, Cole going around the other side to sit next to me. She takes the wheelchair back after waving goodbye, and we can finally go home.
"Hey, bud, we're going to go home and look at all your injuries, then we'll go to urgent care, okay?" Liam says. I only nod in response, too tired to do anything else.
I'm flying. Drew is in front of me. I touch his face to make sure it's really him, that I'm not imagining it. But it is. His nose is where his nose is, eyes are where his eyes are.
"Hi, Ash, we're going to your room, bud." Drew says. It gets warmer, and I assume we're inside.
Thump thump thump down the stairs.
Soft. My bed. I touch it, feeling to make sure it's real. What if I'm imagining this, and really I'm being hit?
Liam's at my side now with a glass of water and something in his hand. "Pill time, you missed yours today." I shake my head. He places a gentle hand on my chin. "Open." I open my mouth and something is dropped inside, making me gag. "Here, drink."
He holds the glass to my mouth and tips it. I hesitate to swallow because of the pain in my neck, but I have to.
"Good job." he says and kisses my head. What is this?
"How'd you know?" I ask.
"That you were hurt?" I nod. "Cole called me. And Sadie texted him asking if you were alright, so he went to look for you. He found your lunch on the ground near your locker, then started searching. When he found you, you were unconscious."
Do Sadie and I really have super powers? I always know when something's wrong with her, because I can feel it too. Not to the same extent, I'm sure she couldn't feel all the bruises and cuts, but I always feel uncomfortable.
"Are you okay to let me look?" Liam asks. I nod. "I know you lied earlier. About why you weren't in class. You should have told me you were having a flashback, bud. Especially with what the trigger was."
My brain is fuzzy. "Trigger..." What? "The wonderful thing about triggers, are triggers are wonderful things—"
Liam laughs. "Not Tigger, silly, trigger. What caused your flashback."
"What caused it?" Wouldn't I remember that?
"I'm not saying, bud. It'll come back to you."
He lifts my shirt up and asks me where it hurts the most. I point and hiss and wince as he touches.
"Nap time."
"Okay, bud, go ahead." he says. He stands up to leave but he can't.
I grab his arm. I don't want to be alone. I'm scared. How pathetic is that? I'm fucking scared. Liam doesn't seem to think any less of me, he just lays down next to me until I can't keep my eyes open to see what happens next.
I stand up. I don't know where I'm walking to, but I trust my subconscious self to know where he's going. It's dark, the only light is around me.
Below me is a pavement. I'm wearing my favorite shoes, and the clothes I'm coziest in. Maybe I'll see Mom and Dad. Maybe that's where I'm walking to.
My cheek throbs and I smack the cement. This isn't a dream. They're back.
I stand up and try to run but I'm grabbed back again. I start to fall until I hear a splash.
My favorite cozy clothes are soaked in the burning water. I sit up to gasp for air but they pull me back under. I scream out. This was over. This was supposed to be over. I escaped.
I got to the old couple and saw...
"Mommy!" I cry out.
I know she was there. I remember her face when she saw me. I could never forget it.
"Mommy, don't let them take me..." I cry in defeat.
The bathtub disappears behind my body, and I fall down the stairs. My neck hurts, my head hurts, it aches. Everywhere aches.
I'm pushed and kicked until they pull out a knife. Where are their faces? Did they get cut off? Is mine being cut off.
They go for my stomach, right where my scar is. The knife comes down and I
Sit up. Liam pulls me into his chest, shushing me as I cry. I feel stupid. Why can't I tell the difference between real and fake? Why don't I know?
Things don't disappear randomly in real life. People have faces in real life. Why don't I know that? Why can't I get that through my dumb fucking head?
Nothing hurts as much anymore now. My injuries are all fixed up. I guess they weren't as bad as I imagined them to be.
"Liam," I say.
He holds me tighter. "Yeah, bub, what's up?"
"I have to pee."
He laughs and stands up. He holds his hands out for me, and I take them. Embarrassed, but grateful. I take small steps, letting my body figure out how much this hurts.
We make it to the bathroom where he leaves me on my own. I look back to him like I'm going to reach for his arm again and make him stay, but it's just the bathroom. I don't need my big brother to pee.
"I'm right out here, okay bub? You give me a signal, and I'll come back, okay?" I nod. I must not have covered up my thoughts very well.
I use the bathroom like normal. This is normal. Everything is normal.
I wash my hands and look at the counter. Everything is in its place. Normal.
For no reason at all, I press my face into my hands and cry silently. I'm suffering and I know I am. I know I'm fighting with my own fucking head. I know Palmer and whatever guys he has with him aren't here.
I know it's happened twice.
But I know it's not happening right now.
So why can't I look at a tub? Why can't I look at his face? Why can't I smell certain things without being sent into a flashback? Why the fuck can't I sleep without screaming for my dead fucking mother?!
I pick up one of the blades we use to shave and slice part of my arm. I stare at it, shocked. Why did I do that? I didn't mean to.
But it kinda felt nice to be in control of the pain. I do it again and the same thing happens. It hurts a little more, since this one wasn't out of anger, but I was in control.
I guided the blade. The tears fall. This hurts. This hurts so fucking much. But Ash is doing it this is Ash and my hand not Palmer's. He's not doing this, I am. I have the control over what happens to me.
"Ash? Hey, bud, I heard the toilet flush, are you alright? It's been a while." Liam says, knocking on the door. Oh yeah.
I get lightheaded. My face looks weird in the mirror. It's red and blotchy and there's bruises. A lot of a lot of bruises.
The door swings open. "Liam..." My voice trails.
"Oh my God!" he cries, water in his voice. He takes the blade from my hand carefully and looks at my eyes. "Ash, bud, come on."
I hear his voice but can't see straight. He picks my hand up. I know what that means.
Squeeze.
"Good job, good job, bub, come on. We're going back to bed."
"Nn sleep?" I slur.
"Yeah, we're gonna sleep."
I lay down, my eyes already closing. Something is being wrapped around my arm. Then it gets cold. It's held there.
Nap time.
My body aches. Liam is next to me again. But I'm not angry anymore. I'm not sad, either. I'm not happy. But I'm not scared. I'm nothing.
He wakes up as soon as I move. He helps me sit up and I take in my surroundings. It's my room. Normal.
Liam rubs my back, making me remember he's there. I lean onto his shoulder and he lets me.
"Hey, bud. I'm happy you're awake, but we need to talk." he says. I don't move. "Ashy, you hurt yourself." He takes my arm. "Look, see where the bandages are?" I nod. "You took a blade, and you cut your arm open. Five times."
It all comes back to me. The anger. The door swinging open and Liam's face. His shaky voice and how he told me we were going back to sleep. My messy brain as he took care of the mess I made.
"I'm sorry," I whisper, sitting up. A sob. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't—I'm trying, I'm losing, I'm sorry—"
"Shh, shh, you're okay. It's just a bad day. We'll get through it, I promise." He comforts, pulling my head into his shoulder. He rocks back and forth, which I don't want to admit is soothing. "I love you so, so much. You're gonna be okay."
I'm gonna try to be okay.
——————————
A/N: Hey guys! So, obviously, Ash's PTSD won the last vote. I have to say, I was excited to be in his head, I have a lil soft spot for Ash.
I'd also like to use this message to talk about PTSD. This story is about mental health, and being educated on some of the worst illnesses is so beneficial. I've recently been researching Dissociative Identity Disorder (DissociaDID on YouTube explains this illness extremely well), and there's always room for more knowledge.
This is going to be long, but worth the read. PTSD is the result of a traumatic experience that affects a person throughout their day to day life. Let's use Ash as our example. His traumatic experience is first explained in...A Little About Me? I believe. Since then, bathtubs, Palmer, and other unknown (to us) triggers. Triggers are what can send someone into a flashback. Here, the brain has not recognized the traumatic experience as a memory, so the victim feels as though they are living through that event again. Anything can be a trigger, so if you know someone with PTSD and they tell you a trigger that may seem strange, don't shrug it off. Take it seriously and do your best to help them avoid these triggers.
Nightmares also come with this illness. They can be just nightmares in general, but most have said that their nightmares often relate to their trauma.
Being there for someone is really the best thing you can do. When someone is having a flashback, give them reality checks. Squeezing hands is a way to say that someone is right here with you, look, you can touch them. Telling the person what year it is, the month, the date, their location. All of these can help bring them out of that flashback, and helping them cope with the panic that follows will never go unappreciated.
I appreciate you sticking with me through this, and hopefully you learned something new. Always feel free to ask questions if you're curious, I will do my best to answer or direct you to a website that can. If you guys want a chapter dedicated to explaining the mental illnesses represented in this story, let me know, I would be more than willing to write it.
Lots of love!
- Jess ❤️
VOTE
The twins have had it hard lately, so here are a few options:
Ash and Sadie tour different schools until they pick one (maybe Ben's?"
OR
They do online school
OR
Only Ash does online school to help with his triggers
Nothing is really happening, so those are your options XD