Life's Lyrics

Chapter Eight

Sunday, November 3

94 days until release day of the album

Number of songs written: 1

I rub my eyes from tiredness and look up to see Spencer, Lyla and my parents all standing over me. I look around the room, from the orange chair beside my bed to the bright art; I am sickened to my stomach. He has me trapped and there is no escape. "Blair," Spencer says softly, sympathy obvious in his voice. I don't need sympathy I need help! Lyla's eyes flick to her left, nervously. "What?" I mumble to Lyla, she looks confused so I clarify, "What are you looking at?" I try to sit up to see what she is looking at. All I see is the corridor and a row of waiting chairs, the same orange as the one sitting beside my bed.
"Darling, you need to rest, you took quite the fall" My mother says, patting my hand, "but first there is someone here we thought you might want to see." She smiles and turns to nod at the figure that walks in from the left. Sebastian. My breathing speeds up and I try to close my eyes hoping that if this were a nightmare, somehow I would wake up. "We'll give you some space," my father says and they all walk out before I can say otherwise. No. I watch Sebastian's every move. "Get away from me," I say with a hateful glare. He clicks with his tongue, walks round to the side of my bed, and sits in the orange chair. I always did hate orange. "Now, now that is no way to talk to your fiancé," He says politely. It's only for show. He doesn't know how to be genuine. He reaches for my hand, but I move it before he can. "So I hear that you read my notes, have you seen this yet though?" He holds up a magazine with my face on it, the headlines saying 'She's not musician, just a pretty face' He has taken away my freedom, my hope but now he has taken music away too, and that kills me. "Now I think it is time you came home," he says, looking at me with a death stare only because his back is to my family. "Not a chance," I spit out, He shakes his head and reaches for my hand, this time getting it but I rip it from his grip. "Don't you dare touch me, after what you have done," I say inching as far away from him as I can on this sterile bed.
"Come on, Blair, I'll carry you out," he tries to slide his hands underneath me.
"Get away, don't touch me, you bastard," I scream and thrash out at him. I guess my actions attract the attention of my family, because they rush in. I roll over and cover my face with my hands.
"I think she took quite the fall, she is acting irrationally," Sebastian starts, "Maybe you should get her checked out," he says to my parents. A tear slides out of the corner of my eye; I'm never going to get out of this. "Blair," I hear Spencer whisper near my face, "I'll get you out of here I promise," He knows. He figured it out.

They discharged me yesterday. I hate him. I'm lying on the couch. I hate him. They are talking about me. I hate him.
"Spencer she needs to see a psychiatrist, she wouldn't do such a thing to her fiancé. She needs help" My mother says, worriedly.
"Mrs Adams, with all due respect, but she just needs to be with her family and she will come around," He says, trying to avoid what he knows, "She needs music."
I close my eyes and try to block out their voices, a moment later I hear the faint sound of a guitar. I drift off to sleep, happy to hear the sound.

I look out the window and watch the cocoon hang from the roof eves; it looks so trapped, just like me. Except sometime, a beautiful butterfly is going to break free, if I ever get out of this big nightmare, I'm not going to be beautiful; only shattered into pieces of who I used to be, before Sebastian, before the fame and before society got to me. "Blair," Spencer shouts running towards me from the hall, "quickly come," he says urgently.
"What," His eyes are fixed on me, except for one small flicker to the window. I turn my head slightly and there he is again, this time with a psychiatrist by his side. No. It's too late I've wasted too much time.
"Ahh you must be Blair," the kind lady says, "I'm doctor Malcom,"
"I am not crazy!" I shout, and realise it's just what a crazy person would say. I slump into my seat and realise that this is how it has to be. I have to be trapped, because I am worthless and am not worthy of freedom.

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Oh oh Sebastian is back...