Allure (Xavier Thorpe x OC)

Prologue

Trigger warning: Mention of suicide

"Ingrid," a nurse called out. I blinked in confusion. "What's your goal upon being released from the hospital?"

"Graduate from high school," I answered with little emotion.

"You can't say graduate from school," another girl chimed.

"Fine," I shrugged. "Not see anyone else die and live a normal life."

"Tell me more about this normal life," the therapist prompted. I mentally groaned at the fact she was beginning to take notes.

"Hart, Ingrid," Nurse Nancy called out. I rose gratefully. "The psychiatrist would like to meet with you."

"Coming," I called out. The nurse who asked me the question looked thoroughly disappointed. It was her loss though, there was nothing she could do to change the fact I tried to kill myself. And there was even less she could do to rid me of my problem.

"Hart," the psychiatrist greeted.

"Hello," I breathed out. Please let me go home.

"Your discharge paperwork is all ready," the psychiatrist droned. "Your mother will be picking you up today at 1pm."

"Thank you," I smiled in relief, rising out of the chair in the little office.

"Miss Hart," the psychiatrist stopped me. "If this happens a second time, I won't be so lenient when I speak with the judge."

"Yes ma'am," I nodded. She smiled and shooed me out the door.

Once outside, Nurse Nancy led me back into the Day Room. Therapy was finished. It was now music time, which was more pleasurable than the group therapy session we just had.

Nurse Cindy walked in with her bluetooth speaker and the usual instruments. The frog, the native american drums, and a dinky toy piano. It was all suicide proof, because even real instruments are deadly. "Today we're going to have a mellow session since we're discharging patients at different times. Lunch will be special for those of you still here at 12pm. We'll all pick a song, play an instrument to the song and have some fun. Blaire, why don't you start us off," Cindy smiled.

"Anti-hero by Taylor Swift," Blaire quickly yelled out. I nearly smacked my head on the table as the song boomed through the speakers.

It's me, hi

I'm the problem, it's me

At teatime, everybody agree

I'll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

The lyrics of this song plus the melody were God's way of laughing at me from above. I grabbed the dinky piano and numbly played random nameless chords which didn't go with the song at all.

"Ingrid you may select a song," Cindy prompted.

"Candy by Machine Gun Kelly," I replied instantly. I hummed along to the song, doing my best to ignore the terrible sounds emitted by the fake instruments.

When it finished another patient requested a rap song. The change of pace was nice. And the rest of music time was like this, each patient getting to pick a song until the hour was up.

At 12, Cindy left the room and we were brought our lunch. We had nachos which really was a treat from the usual hospital meals. I took my time eating, the gooey crunchy texture was enjoyable for me.

An alarm went off, causing me to jump. I closed my eyes and counted slowly to 10. I felt fear wash through me, I nearly trembled. There was nothing wrong right now. I was safe. "Ingrid," Nurse Nancy called out to me. She gently touched my shoulders comfortingly. "It's triggering right?"

"Yeah," I admitted.

"Take a deep breath in," she instructed. I obeyed. "And out."

"Thanks," I smiled gratefully.

"Ingrid," a female nurse looked at me. "Your mom is here." I hugged Nurse Nancy and whispered a soft goodbye as I followed the other nurse out of the floor. We went down an elevator and into the lobby of the hospital.

"Ingrid," my mother cooed in delight upon seeing me.

"Hi mom," I smiled at her. She engulfed me in a hug. I took in my mother's perfect blonde hair and looked down at my own simple black hair. Mother was always happy and bright.

"You look so skinny," she tutted.

"Hospital food is gross," I explained.

"I have some great news," she continued as though I hadn't spoken at all. "I found the perfect school for you."

"Mom, how many times do I have to tell you? Let me go to school online. I can't take seeing more death," I asserted.

"Nonsense," she laughed. "You need to get over your fear of your power Ingrid. And Nevermore is the perfect place to help you do just that. You'll be surrounded by other outcasts and have the best time living a normal high school experience." I sighed in defeat. My mother had a terrible childhood. She didn't get to do most things happy kids get to do so she was insistent that I experience everything she never did.

I could only hope more people didn't die at Nevermore. I couldn't handle more death.