Considered Insane: How They Saved My Life (NO LONGER UPDATING)

Chapter 6

"I-I wha-at," I stutter, unable to make an intelligent sentence, eyes popping out of their sockets.

"Skye," the singer whispers in his light, childish voice, placing his tiny hand on my leg, sending me into a dizzy whirlpool of tears. "Skye please, just don't. I am done seeing you suffer."

I drop my arm, hitting the floor with a light thud. My gaze drops to the hand resting on my led, blurring as tears begin streaming down my cheeks. I begin to feel anger rise and bubble in my throat, causing me to outburst with more tears and furious words.

"Why did you heal me and just leave," I scream into his perfect, small face, scaring myself a little with the furious, acidic tone I use. "Why do you care about me when all I do is hurt everyone and waste air? I am nothing and you won't leave me alone!"

He isn't fazed by my furious screeching, he only stares at me with the same look in his eyes from my dream, "You are everything, Skye. Why can't you just understand that you are loved and cared about?"

"Because I was cared for and loved, then I wouldn't have to go through the shit I have! You never did anything before last week, you only ran around my room as if I wasn't there," I yell, sending more tears flowing and showering the man.

The man just shakes his head slowly and turns, walking to the center of the room, still glowing with the light of the flames shooting from my sketchpad. He stands there, staring and smiling affectionately at me, and winks once. I'm confused as to why he would wink, and even more confused when he snaps his fingers once. As if on que, the parade abandons the float and joins the singer, forming a single line across my bedroom floor.

They remain standing there, completely still and silent, and I begin to think that I have upset them and they're leaving. All of a sudden, the fire from my sketchbook moves like a snake in the direction of the parade. I move forward to stop the flames from engulfing them, but they never touch any of the members, only swirling in circles around and around, creating a whirlwind of flames, sparks, and smoke.

As I watch, mystified, I realize that five members of the parade are growing! The same ones who were always on top of the float are now life size, standing in the middle of the room that I used to call my safety and home. I scoot backwards at full speed, ramming the back of my head into the leg of my bed. I groan in pain and lift my hand to touch the sore spot, flinching when a sharp sting spreads across my body and at the additional blood glistening on my hand. My vision blackens at the edges and I feel suddenly feel sick, crashing to the floor and squeezing my eyes shut in pure agony. This is worse than being beaten, worse than the pain of being unloved, forgotten, and shut out.

A warm, tingling sensation soothes my arms, bringing me back from the trance that lulled me on to join the afterlife. The wound that lay on the back of my head is serious enough to kill, but I'm not dead. . . yet. My eyelids are concrete sheets, too heavy to lift, so I let the tingling warm the rest of me, numbing my body into a peaceful bliss. Last to join the tingling of my body in my head, becoming too fuzzy to think. My head is lifted lightly by a pair of cold hands, then the rest of my body. I am removed from the bloody floor and laid onto something softer, drier, warmer. Then, the surface beneath me dips lightly and my body rolls and bumps into something bigger than my small frame. Too tired to care, I drift into a soft, light sleep, turning over and snuggling closer to whatever I'm lying next to.