SCHIZO

Two

"I'm real, Ashley. I'm real." Luke's voice is mocked in my head by two male voices. Of course they'd come when I had found something that permanently kept my mind off of them for a little while.

Schizophrenia is a hard thing to live with. Although I've had it for two years, you never get used to the killing words the voices say.

I've come to know the four voices as Bob, Jace, Layla and Janet. Two males and two females. Bob and Jace are just plain out rude and killingly painful to hear. Layla and Janet, on the other hand, are wickedly scary. Witches, really.

"Leave me alone. Please." I beg, looking at myself in the long mirror on my wall.

"I may be real, Ashley, but what about your sanity, you idiot. Is your sanity real?"

No. It's not. I know it's not, too. But I can't let them know that.

I was crying now. They've been calling me names for about an hour. I've come to the conclusion that once Luke found out I was schizophrenic he wanted to mess with me. He didn't feel pity or was freaked out like everyone else usually is. He just wanted to jumble up my brain more than it already is. At the next group therapy, which is in two days, I will not speak to, listen to, or acknowledge Luke.

But even I know I can't do that. I may know barely anything anymore, but I know I can't do that. Luke seems to be infatuated with me, and if I must be completely honest, I'm quite infatuated with him, too. He's depressed, or so he says, and he's very talkable and curious. I'm the only schizophrenic person in the group, of course. Only 1% of the population has schizophrenia. But there are so many more interesting mental illnesses in that group, so why choose the psycho, schizophrenic girl?

Would I have? I think to myself. I push the thought away. Of course I would've.

The voices we starting to fade away and my tears were starting to dry. I checked the clock. 7:30 at night. I'm exhausted.

Was it really only a few hours ago I met Luke? It feels like a few years ago. Stop thinking of him, Ashley. Stop thinking of him.

-

It's Saturday. I'm running late to group therapy again. This usually happens Saturdays. Mom and I stay up and watch movies, then wake up 30 minutes before we need to leave the next morning.

"Mom! Let's go!" I yell up the stairs. I was all ready and of course she takes forever to put on make up.

I finally hear the creaking of the old stairs and see her coming down. She grabs her bags and keys and heads out.

"So, Ashley," she says as we get going, "who was that blonde boy you were talking to outside the church at the last session?" She asks.

I felt the blood flush from my face. Why now?

"Uh- he's just a new kid in the group. I don't know. He kind of walked up to me and started talking to me when Anthony told us to talk to the person who interested us the most. I didn't have much of a say." I answered truthfully.

"Oh. Well, is he nice?" I glance at her and her face is questioning, even though she's looking at the road.

"Yeah. I guess. I mean, he came over and just started talking, so he must be sociable. I think he knows Calum, or maybe he just started talking to him too." I shrugged.

"Is that the boy with anxiety?"

"Yes," I nod. Calum is a nice boy. I usually paired up with Calum every session. He just recently turned 18 and hasn't been to school in years because his anxiety is so bad.

Most of the people in the session don't go to school. They've been ordered to stay out of school because they could be damaging to the people around them. The ones who've ordered us to stay out are wrong. We aren't dangerous, just misunderstood. Misread. That's it. Calum isn't even as bad as I am, he can be quite the talker and only gets a little nervous on the outside when we need to solve problems, but that's what's wrong with us. We may seem perfectly okay or normal on the outside, but on the inside we are ripped apart one cell at a time.

I check the time. 12:10pm. Late. I look out the window and we are pulling it's the church. All I can do is sigh.

"See you soon sweetie. Love you." Mom says. I smile.

"Okay. Love you too, mom."

I step up on the curb and walk over to the doors. I lay my fingers on the golden cross-shaped knobs.

Beautiful, isn't it?

Yes.

I close my eyes and exhale. I open the doors and scurry to the room where I can hear Anthony speaking about rejection.

As I open the door I plaster on a guilty smile.

"Oh, Ashley. Another Saturday, late again. Okay, take a seat." Anthony says. He smiles a bit.

Anthony likes me. I'm his one of his oldest patients, besides a boy Michael, 18 and diagnosed with depression and bipolar depression. He's also quite unsociable. All of Anthony's other older patients either recovered, moved or committed suicide.

Michael was sitting two seats away from Anthony by the window. I looked for my usual spot, which is two seats away from Michael, but a boy I've never met before is sitting there. The only empty seat is next to Calum, who's next to Luke.

I sigh and sit next to Calum. Anthony continues to speak, and I lean in to Calum and whisper, "who's the new guy?"

Calum turns his head towards my ear and replies, "Ashton Irwin I think he said. Depressed. I think he tried to commit a few times." I form an O with my lips.

I examine the dirty blonde curly headed boy. He was handsome, very handsome. He seemed interesting enough.

"Psst--Ashley!" I turn my head to see Luke waving at me. I look away. The next thing I know Calum elbows me and gives me a slip of paper.

Meet me by the park in the middle of town? I want to talk to you :)

Luke.

I glance over at him and he smiles. I give him a weird look and he immediately frowns in response.

Don't acknowledge him, I remind myself. I shake my head.

"I want groups of three," Anthony says, interrupting my thoughts.

"Calum, you're with Elliot and Kayla," Anthony called out.

"Fuck," I heard Calum mumble as he stood up and walked over to Elliot and Kayla.

"Ashley, you can be with..Ashton and Luke."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a smile. I turned around and saw it looking at me, bright eyes and all.

Luke Hemmings.

-

Sort of a fill-in. I promise this story will get better!