Identity [ON HIATUS]

22. Saturday Night

My treatment wasn't as easy as taking a pill.

Mom and Dad carted me from doctor to doctor to doctor to my breaking point. A large amount of them had no idea what was wrong with me, a small amount kept saying I was Schizophrenic, and an alarming amount suggested I might be lying.

But when there's another person crawling around your mind, you wish you were lying.

Rose had left me alone for the rest of the week, where I'd been taken out of school for trips to hospitals and private surgeries and finally, finally, a doctor named Monroe, who had the shiny black hair of a raven and eyes that pierced so far into my soul, was able to coax Rose out for two minutes to talk about how she hated the Harry Potter movies.

At least, that's what Dr Monroe told me they talked about.

I decided that this woman was going to be my doctor, and despite living two hours away from her office, Mom and Dad supported that decision, and would drive me every two weeks.

But now, it was Saturday night, and I was going to a party.

I dressed in the way I wanted to dress, with no influence from anybody else whatsoever. I'd never been to a high school party, and I'd texted Sarah to come along with me because what if Liam didn't show up? What if I knew absolutely no one?

We both promised that if the party sucked, we would go get pizza, come back to my house and watch Gilmore Girls. Rose hated Gilmore Girls, and a part of me realised that that was why I picked it.

I wore no black because this evening black was off the table; no influence, I was 100% percent me and that's how it was going to stay.

Maybe I didn't need Dr. Monroe? Maybe I could do this on my own?

A knock at the door and Mom yelling for me that Sarah was here interrupted a staring contest with my reflection.

"Coming!" I yelled from my room, before fixing my pink lipstick and tucking a few loose strands of blonde hair behind my ear. My dress was white, with lace around the collar; another thing that Rose hated and I loved.

I frowned at the thought of her, and fire rose in my throat.

"We're gonna be late!" Sarah called from downstairs.

I rolled my eyes. "You're never late to a party." I heard myself say, though my lips didn't move.