Alters

Eight

~Lyric~

I look around the car. It's always strange being in a different surrounding than where I was before. Last thing I remembered was my dads' voice, then it just goes blank from there. I have no idea what had happened, but I feel as if it was Endora out. To clarify, I look into the mirror, then notice the thick, raccoon-like makeup that was applied to my eyes. Yep. Endora it was.

"Mom?" I ask.

"Hi Lyric." My mom smiles.

"What exactly did Endora do?" I ask her, though I know that's a question my mom didn't wish to answer. It is always important that I know what Endora does though, because she could be doing something unhealthy to my well-being.

"Endora had yelled at your father on the phone about how he gave you DID, how he hurt you and the alters, and how none of you would forgive him." my mom says. "After, she started crying, which is why you have your makeup re-done."

Endora crying takes me a moment to comprehend. I would've thought Meg would've came out to stop Endora from crying, but I guess not. None of the alters would've been prepared for Endora to cry anyways.

I sigh as I look out the window, watching all the atypical scenery going by. The city is all too familiar, especially the road to MHC. I've seen these streets and buildings too many times already. The shops and beggars and businesses seen along our path are all too much the same. Rarely is there a new sight passing by my vision. Rarely am I properly entertained by the settings around me.

We finally pulled up to MHC, which was a small little building that looked almost like a house. It wasn't anything fancy, besides the little fountain in the front lawn of the place. I hopped out of the car and thanked my mom for the ride. I approached the building cautiously, making sure I didn't trip on any little cavities in the sidewalk. Once reaching the door, I knocked, waiting for one of the volunteers to escort me to the room. They always have an escort for each one of us coming so we don't roam around to any of the other rooms in the building. Some people who go here would, so it's a good thing they do that.

Martha, a young girl at the age of about 19, stands at the door with a huge fake smile on her face. Once seeing me, her smile turns slightly more real and relaxed, though I can tell she just wants to go home.

"Hello Lyric!" She says in a preppy tone. "Lets go to the room, shall we?"

I don't respond to her mainly because I dislike her rather passionately. Her long blonde hair flows heavily behind her as she walks. She doesn't grab my hand to guide me, nor does she even look back to see if I'm following. I know if I don't follow her, she would turn back the second I walk out of line and stare at me with her piercing green eyes that could stab into your soul better than daggers.

"Here." She mutters without even looking at me, opening the door. I shove my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket as I walk in the room. She closes the door behind me, probably to gather the next person coming.

I look around to almost empty room as I head to take a seat at the decently-sized table. Only 4 other people were in the room make for 40. All faces were recognizable. 2 were the heads of MHC, Christina, a tall, skinny woman who suffers from anorexia, and Michael, a strong, tall man who is completely normal, besides family struggles, where both his parents had committed suicide a year before MHC was formed. Christina and Michael had been friends for 'As long as they remember'. Once Michaels parents had both committed suicide due to both their sufferings of MDD, Michael and Christina had worked on creating MHC together. They are the nicest people I know, which is why I enjoy going to MHC.

The other two people in the room sit in chairs around the table. The first one I recognize as Roslyn, the 13 year old with MDD, whom fiddles with something in her hand. The other person is Rachel, a little 8 year old with Downs Syndrome. She's the cutest little thing ever, and I enjoy talking to her.