Maybeline must be kidding me.
Her niece literally just gets out of a mental hospital.
Her niece had a freaky meltdown and flashback yesterday.
And you leave her alone.
In a house full of knifes and razors.
In a house with nobody.
I can't blame her though. Maybeline had to hire some employees at her new bakery. I wasn't expecting her to stay with me all my life but I just hoped she'd stay here with me for at least the first week. Not because I want to talk to her or hang out. Just the feeling of knowing somewhere is there makes life a little less terrible.
I had woken up with an awful feeling already. I considered staying it bed, not getting up once all day. I considered maybe never getting up. But I dragged my feet onto the hardwood floor and dragged myself down the stairs. I walked to the fridge and picked up a sticky note that was on the door.
I am so sorry I had to leave love. I really wanted to stay and take care of you but reality isn't so nice. I made some pancakes on the counter (the raspberry ones you loved when you were a little one). Please eat those and I'll see you at four pm with some cupcakes and pizza. Also, I am having the neighbors check on you a bit. Please don't do anything that'll hurt you. -Maybeline :-)
I crumbled up the sticky note and threw it in the trash, mentally cursing at the thought of seeing the neighbors after my freak out. I glanced at the pancakes on the counter and sighed. My stomach was hissing with hunger but I felt like if I ate, I'd throw up. I walked to the living room, which was half packed. Throwing myself on the couch, I decided to do what I did every day in the looney bin.
Pray.
My mother always taught me that God was like a father. He was our Lord and we are His children. And that it is only right to thank him for our lives, even when we feel as if our life is crumbling to pieces.
After my parents death I didn't believe in God for awhile. Why would God let something so awful happen to us? Why didn't He allow us to continue our happy lives? Why did He put this pain upon myself? But then, after a year in the looney bin, I believed again. Only because I didn't feel a sudden and natural urge to cut and let all hell break loose within me.
I believed God performed that miracle.
After my prayers I opened my eyes, looking at the TV that was in front of the couch. I grabbed the clicker and the news popped up.
"Mark Whittenburg has been arrested for raping and kidnapping seventeen year old Casey Hail in Tennesee."
Just those seventeen words. That caused an insane break down and flashback,
"Girl! You will learn to give me what I want!" The whip fell upon my back and I screamed in misery.
"SHUT UP! WE ARE DESERTED IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE! AIN'T NOBODY GONNA HEAR YOU!" The whip slashed my skin again and my whole body felt painful and stinging. I whimpered and looked at the ground. A tear dripped down my cheek and Howard laughed
"What?YOU CRYING BECAUSE YOU WANT YOUR MAMA LITTLE GIRL? OH WAIT, I KILLED HER!" Howard laughed and I screamed even more
"NO ONE IS LOOKING FOR YOU DARLIN'! NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU!" Howard's whip hit me again and I sobbed
I screamed, throwing my fists in the air. I turned off the TV and threw the clicker across the room. I ran up the stairs and walked into the bathroom. Throwing off my shirt, I looked at myself in the mirror. The marks from the whip were still etched across my back, reminding me of every awful memory of that house, from the colors of the walls to Howard's drunken breath.I threw my shirt back on. I started shaking and looked at my wrist. Cuts were drawn all over my skin.
I opened up a drawer and saw a razor. I grabbed it and pressed in against my skin at an angle. It cut deep inside me and I pulled the razor away, holding my wrist over the sink. Blood seeped from me, as if showing all of the pain washing away. I cried as my wrist bled more.
"What the hell are you doing?" I looked at the bathroom's doorway and saw the boy from yesterday. He dug into a drawer and pulled a first aid kit out. "You shouldn't be doing that!"
He grabbed my wrist gently, the blood now falling on his fingers. He turned on some water and put my wrists under it. I winced and he looked at me "It'll sting. Just calm down." After a few minutes of the water running on my cut, he pulled it away and dabbed it with a hand towel. He then threw the bloody towel in the sink, grabbing a bandage and wrapping it around the cut.
Once the bandage was done being wrapped, I pulled away, running down the stairs and to the kitchen. I put my hands on the counter, breathing heavily. "My mom told me to come over. She said your mom said you need to be watched. So my mom told me to check on you and I now see why you need to be watched." I stayed silent and didn't face him
"I am Harry, Harry Styles." I turned around and looked at him. "What is your name?"
I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen.
Delia Moon,
"Well, Delia, I find you cutting again and I won't help you that time."
I don't need your help.
"If I didn't go to check on you, you'd still be in that bathroom, crying as you bled."
Well...thank you.
"No problem."
She isn't my mom
"What?"
Maybeline isn't my mom, my aunt.
"Oh....So, you are new?"
Yes
"Where are you from?"
I looked in Harry's eyes, wondering whether I should say Canada or the looney bin. I rolled my eyes. Maybe if I just tell the truth he'll leave me alone.
Grace Hospital for the Mentally Unstable.
"So, you're insane?"
I stared at Harry, anger boiling within me.
Insane. I hated that word. Everybody called me it, even the insane people inside the looney bin. I wasn't insane or crazy. I have just been through hell and back and I'm a little messed up. But going into that fucking hospital leads to you being labeled insane. My fury raised and I clenched my fist, squeezing the pen in my hand. I then heard a crack and looke at the counter, seeing that I had snapped the pen in half. I looked at Harry but he stayed completely still.
"I am not insane." I growled in a whisper.
Harry nodded "If you were, I wouldn't blame you.You aren't just insane. Things and people make you insane.
I decided to change the topic by writing something else.
Are you an artist?
"Nah...I have tried to get it in some museums but they say it's too depressing."
It's real. And reality is depressing.
"Yeah...I am sorry by the way. About flipping out yesterday. I just don't let anybody, even my mom, go in that room."
I've been through worse. Sorry 'bout acting wild.
"You have obviously been through some type of hell. You deserve to be a little wild."
I smiled a bit, having somebody understand me in the slightest way was amazing.
Thanks.
"No problem Moon. See you later" Harry smiled a bit and walked out the door. I sat on a stool and sighed.
I wasn't alone.
