Chapter 1

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Toby lay asleep in his room, as well as his sister, father and mother, not a noise coming from either of them. After the appointment with his psychiatrist, he had been prescribed a medication to help him with his horrid, HORRID nightmares. For the past week, Toby would often wake up screaming bloody murder. The medication certainly helped him with his dreams at night, but would make him have hallucinations during the day. He already had hallucinations due to having schizophrenia. It was just one of his many disorders. He also had CIPA, Tourettes, PTSD, and he was bipolar. Overall, Tobias Erin Rogers was an unpredictable, rebellious teenager.

***

A loud crash sounded downstairs from the kitchen and Toby jolted awake with a sharp inhale. His heart took off like a cheetah chasing a gazelle in a field. He sat up and stared at a dark corner of his room until he felt himself calm down. He took a deep breath and could have sworn he saw something move in the corner of his eye. He turned his head to the side slightly and looked around with his eyes. Nothing. Nothing moved. He growled quietly under his breath and threw his blankets off himself, slowly moving his legs over the side of his bed. He rubbed his eyes and looked out the window, seeing it was awfully cloudy out. The clouds left his neighbourhood looking awfully sinister.

Toby sighed softly and turned away, his gaze falling upon a framed picture of his family that sat on the nightstand beside his bed. A smile twitched as his lips and he stood up from his bed. He stumbled a bit and fell backwards, his head ricocheting off the floor. His mother, who was downstairs, must have heard it because she was immediately rushing upstairs and was in his room. Toby lay curled up on the floor, holding his head in his hands. His arms would twitch occasionally and he would be forced to let go, but he continued to grip his head. Small amounts of blood ran through his hair and fell to the floor, forming small puddles.

His mother quickly scooped Toby up into her arms and laid him on the bed gently. He was quite light for his age. He barely ate, and he was skinny enough as it is. Toby's small frame shook lightly in fear. Before he fell, he saw a shadowed being standing over him; taunting him. His mother knew the side affects of the medication he was on but couldn't do anything about it.

Quickly, she rushed off and grabbed a medkit, laying it on the bed and she clicked it open. She grabbed bandages and cleaned the wounds before wrapping his head. Toby didn't even feel a thing. He couldn't feel pain. It was a good thing for him, in all honestly. He was accident prone. He was quite clumsy.

***

He walked downstairs after twenty minutes of constant shaking and occasional tears, the bags under his eyes seemingly growing darker. He was hunched over slightly, and he didn't even pick up his feet as he walked. His sister and father were already sitting at the table waiting. His mother had finally started breakfast and to actually get Toby to eat something before he went to school, she made pancakes. He could smell it from upstairs. He took a deep breath from his nose and gave a crooked grin. He sat in the chair in front of his father and beside his sister and waited patiently for food. His stomach made a loud growl and he narrowed his eyes at the wall. His sister leaned over to him and roughly grabbed Toby's shoulder. He jumped and gave a surprised screech.

"D-Don't...--" His voice cracked slightly and he stuttered on his words. His head twitched and he scrunched up his face, having to re-do his attempted sentence. "Don't d-do.. do that!" Toby yelled out at her and his mother turned to glance back at them, shaking her head. His sister burst out laughing. "You fall for that everytime!" She exclaims and nearly falls out of her chair. Toby growls and physically pushes her off her chair, though everybody knew he did it in a playful manner. He never showed any violence towards his sister. He didn't have the guts to.

***

Toby felt slightly happy in the backseat of his fathers car as he was driven to school. Unfortunately, the happiness was gone in an instant as his mind trailed off to the people in that school that constantly made fun of him. Anger boiled up in him and he shifted in his seat slightly. He turned his head slightly and looked out of the window. It was in the middle of the winter but Toby didn't even need to dress as warm as the other kids. His beige coloured hoodie was just fine. He couldn't feel the cold. Another affect to one of his disorders.

***

Once his father pulled into the parking lot, Toby quickly got out and closed the door behind him rather harshly. He stopped at his fathers window and he rolled it down. "D-Do.. Do I really need to stay here f-for the w-whole day?" Toby asked nervously. "Yes, Toby. Hurry up or you'll be late for your first class." He said and Toby growled and backed away from the car as he pulled away. He turned his gaze back to the school and felt his stomach turn. Kids were already staring at him and whispering. He let out a single soft sigh and started to head inside, ignoring the kids' name calling. He hated it so much, and he wished he could do something but he couldn't. He wasn't allowed to.

He got to his first class without much trouble and took his seat in the middle row of the classroom, dropping his backpack under his desk before he pulled out his binder. He saw the same shadow figure in the corner of his eyes that he saw this morning and held his breath. When he looked over, it was suddenly gone. He furrowed his brows and turned his gaze over to the board as the teacher started telling them what they need to do. Get into groups? Oh god. Not good.

When they were told to go find people, three other kids grabbed Toby and pulled him off into their group. He knew damn well they only dragged him over here to pick on him. And was he ever right. About half an hour into the class, Toby's twitching had increased slightly and the kids would mock him and call him 'Ticci-Toby'." Toby just stood up and calmly walked off. Calm? He was actually far from calm. He gave cold glares to anybody who stared at him as he packed up his stuff, grabbed his backpack, and just walked out of the class.

He was called down to the office by the counsellor and he immediately went up there. He liked the counsellor. She had Tourettes too and she knew how he felt. Slowly, he walked into her office and settled in one of the comfy couches she had in there. They talked for about an hour straight, cutting into his second class, but Toby didn't care. It's not like he WANTED to go to class anyways.

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