Chapter 8
Doctor Demarco seemed surprised at my reply. He choked on the hard candy he was sucking on and I couldn't help but laugh at him. He was just too funny.
"Fucking awesome." He repeats, cringing a bit at the reply I had just stated. "Try your best not to swear around here, if you would."
"How come?" I inquired.
"It's part of the process."
"Of what?"
Doctor Demarco scribbled something onto his clipboard. "The process of you getting better."
There it is again. I screamed on the inside and clenched my fists tightly. I don't need to get better, what part of that do people not understand?
I let out a long sigh and started to think about Luke. I haven't seen him in a few hours, and I was getting quite bored without him. My mind brought me back to the bathroom where we shared our kiss. His lips tasted like the shitty food here and mint, but it was an addicting taste that I was currently craving. His lip ring was cold and made me shiver. God, his lips were addicting. I want to get high off of his lips and then him and I can sour out of this place together.
"Je veux vous sauver, Alaska. peut-être nous pouvons sauver l'autre."
His words keep repeating in me head. Of coarse, I didn't have a clue what he said. I think the language was French, but I could be wrong. In high school, I took Spanish but I failed drastically. I'm sure it was something cute though. He is so dreamy.
"Alaska?" Dr D said. "Did you hear my question? Do I need to repeat myself?"
I looked at him and blinked. He sighed and rolled his eyes slightly.
"I asked when you started to hear these uh, voices."
I shrugged. "I don't know."
"Can you predict a time?"
I didn't know when it happened, to be honest. I think they've always been with me and I'm happy about it. With my friends, I'm never lonely and I always have people to talk to. They tell me I'm special and that God chose me to have such wonderful voices to carry along. The thought calmed me and made me feel wanted. I loved it, and I did love them. When I was ten, I started to depend of them. They told me what to do, who to talk to, how to act . . . It was so much more easy with these voices in my head. I thought I was special and better than everyone else. I mean, how cool was it to be a child and have these other people living inside you? Rather cool is you ask me.
"Maybe when I was ten, or younger. I can't recall."
His response was a simple nod and then he went back to writing. I didn't want to be here. It was pure agony to sit through him rambling on and writing down nonsense. I was bored, and I had the sudden urge to draw. I wasn't a good drawer, but I guess that's how bored I was.
"What do these voices say to you?" He finally spoke. His voice was deep and raspy and it made me cringe with discuss.
Don't give us away, Alaska. They told me. However, this man is inquiring about my friends, so I must tell him. It's not every day that somebody asks about myself, so I was sort of digging the attention. Then again, this wasn't the sort of attention I wanted. I wanted to be home in America and living my normal life again.
I miss home. I miss my parents yelling at me and I miss them tackling me whenever I started to scream. Rubbing my fingers over my scars, I missed my razor. I missed the pain it brought me and the red liquid that flowed down into the white tile of my bathroom. I miss having no friends and eating alone at lunch. I miss everyone gawking at me in this horrendous way, which I found amusing. I just miss being back home in general. I couldn't help but wonder if anything has changed back home. How were my parents doing? Did they miss me? Ha! I doubt. They seemed excited to get rid of their crazy fucked up daughter who talked to imaginary friends living inside her mind.
I shrugged. "I dunno. Things."
"What kind of things?" He pushed.
"I don't know."
"You've got to know, Alaska. Tell me what your uh - what your friends tell you."
"I said I don't fucking know! God, how many times do I have to repeat myself? You have ears, don't you?" He froze. "Yeah, you do. So use them, god damn."
I let myself sink further into the chair and let out a deep sigh. When did my life become so fucked up? How did I ever end up here at this moment? Why? Why me? What did I ever do to deserve any of this?
Neverland my fucking ass. Maybe this is hell.
About an hour later, I was finally sat in the multipurpose room with a sketch pad and a pencil in hand. I went through hell and back to get them, but I finally did after asking Karen.
My hand rested upon my cheek as I pondered over the thought of what I could possibly draw. There are millions of things in the world, and I need to choose one.
I took a drawing class back in my sophomore and junior year in high school, and I wasn't that bad at all. I use to draw to let my feelings explode, but I had stopped and never picked up a pencil since.
But now, here I am with a pencil in my dry chapped hands and a blank piece of paper thinking on what I could draw.
Then I saw him. His golden blonde hair was tousled in a sexy way and his blue eyes were piercing. The way he sucked his lip ring behind his swollen red lips and the way he smirked at everyone made me weak. He was gorgeous and when I licked my lips, I could still taste his on mine.
Then I started drawing.
A/N: my god this is so bad and short as fuckkkkk I'm sorry guys I have ///REALLY/// bad writers block lately on this damn story!! PLEASE comment!! Your comments mean the world to me, and I really enjoy reading what you have to say about Alaska and her mind. Your comments make me laugh :))
I LOVE YOU ALLLLLL
stay young,
sam
