Touch; Ticci Toby X Reader

C. 01

She's one breath away from them, then two, then three, then four, then five.

She's still breathing.

That was three years ago.

And now she's staring out a small window, in a small room, with a small bed thinking of times of when it will all finally be over.

***

The pads of her fingers brush over the thin plate of glass. The cold brings her mind forward and out the window at the trees, the sky..everything was out there. It was always untouchable. To her, at least.

She only knew of the weather outside, and for a while, she thought that would be enough to rid off the desire to venture outside. Maybe it was and she was being too greedy. But is it greedy to want to roam free without being told no?

It was raining today, just like yesterday.

Fat raindrops fell to an uncertain end on the window. She watched the drops slide and split until she was unaware of what lied around her.

She lets her hand slip down the window, moisture from the rain outside was collected on the way. Her breathing is swallowed up by the soft pitter-patter rushing through the wind that was barely audible to her ears.

Her e/c eyes drift down to her lap where she was scribbling down words in her small notebook with her pen that managed to work. She somehow managed to ration the little ink of the pen and feared she would be out very soon. What would she do once it ran out?

She doesn't write it every day, only when she needs to pour out her feelings. It was a replacement for when she wanted to talk to someone, but she never could. Not to those doctors, nurses or therapists that come and go. They never did stay that long, anyway.

Entry 36

I wish I was a bird, to fly and fly so, so far away from where I am now and will always linger. If that were possible.

I'm jealous of birds, in a way. They were free, I'm not. They can brush the clouds with the tips of their wings, I will never even feel sand in between my toes as waves pushed up the shore littered with seashells, washing so many sandcastles away.

I wanted to jump in piles of red, orange, yellow and green leaves in late fall, watching as they spread across the yellowish-green grass. I wanted to ride down hills on a sled with my arms up grasping at the gray sky as snow rushed past me.

But those wishes never came true. As far as I know, they never will.

And I was left thinking and imagining things that will never come true because the world is too selfish to give me any sort or form of mercy.'

She never writes down the date, for only one simple reason, she doesn't know.

All she knows is if it's raining, if it's snowing, if it's warm outside or if flowers are blooming by her window.

When she's bored she would stare. And stare. Stare out the window all day. The small window beside her bed is the only window to the outside world. She would break the window to escape, but it's too small to fit her through.

She would break it and scream for help if she saw somebody, but she's only greeted by a forest of pine trees 100 feet away, between there was green grass and wilted flowers. And a single white willow tree. Even so, who would ever want to help her? She was here for a reason, so she must be delusional or crazy, right?

She hasn't spoken to anyone since she was put here. She hasn't had any human contact aside from the therapists who tried to 'help' her, but even they up because she knew healing would take time and effort. Nobody had the patience to wait for her to reach the next step. Returning her back to her original broken down state and being forced to start all over again.

She was put here around almost three years ago, a month or two after her birthday, they said late happy birthday and locked her up in a small room with only one bed, a window and her notebook she happened to have when they dragged her in here.

They locked her in here because she was 'insane'. After her mother and brother were murdered by a 'robber', she wouldn't speak, she would scream at anyone who would dare touch her, she would claw and snip. Sometimes she would scream all throughout the night, or claw at her arms until they went numb and her nails filled with her torn off flesh and blood.

Now she's in a mental asylum. For her crazy behavior and disorders. Her father refused to take her in. So did orphanages. Nobody wants a crazy teenager. Now she's here.

She thinks she lost a big portion of her mind. Being locked up in the same room for nearly 3 years has driven her off the cliff. It would drive anyone crazy.

At first, she was allowed to roam the hallways, but she went and blew that by attacking a doctor and a therapist a couple of times. Now she wasn't allowed to leave unless absolutely necessary.

She sighs, her eyes fluttering closed as she lays on her stiff mattress, the blanket wrapped tightly around her.

All she needs is sleep..and she does this time with ease.

***

It smells like rain in the morning. The room is heavy with the scent of wet stone, upturned soil. Though the air is cold, she finds it refreshing and it manages to soothe her mind.

The rain has stopped now, the sun has already started to rise as she looks out the window that had fresh raindrops trailing down it. The rain has just stopped, she thinks. Her warm breath fogging up the glass when she presses her nose to the chilly surface.

Her room was freezing, so she wraps the cream-colored blanket around herself and stands up from the bed. The cold tile floor fully wakes her up.

Her room didn't have much in it, a toilet and sink where her toothbrush, hairbrush, and her other things were at, a shower where its hot water would only last 8 minutes, a drain in the floor.

It wasn't much, but at least it was something that was her own.

She closes her eyes, sighs and complies to float in her thoughts.

September 13, 2019 Edit: Hey!! So I wrote this 2 years ago when I was like 13/14 so it will have its fair share of mistakes and cringy moments. But I hope you enjoy reading it nevertheless!