Open Your Eyes (Cashby)

Chapter 17

A/n: guys, it's getting really hard for me to slip into Austin's character. Any tips for me? What do you guys see in his character? I don't know, maybe you notice something that I don't. Thank you so much if you have any advice for me :)
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ALAN'S POV

"You can't be in here right now!" a voice cried, bursting into my bedroom. I felt so surprised that I jumped a little, having been caught whilst crying. I turned around on my side to see a frantic nurse in green scrubs named Angela.
"Sorry." I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and nose.
"Oh, sweetheart, what's wrong? Are you okay?" She asked genuinely, grabbing my clammy hands and pulling me to my feet. It was like standing on a cloud; both feet had inevitably fallen asleep, leaving me high and dry.
"I'm fine. I'm sorry for breaking the rules." I recited. She nodded carefully, looking deep into my eyes, searching.
"Okay, it's alright. It's group therapy time right now. Do you want to join?" She offered. I knew it wasn't an offer, though. It was a nice way of saying you have to join. I'd just now decided that I hated that, I hated being forced to do things like this. Ignoring her, I stalked out of my room, Angela on my heels. She 'escorted' me to group therapy, which hadn't yet started. Taking a seat in one of their plastic blue cafeteria chairs, my eyes settled on Jake, who was wandering over to me with a couple friends. A lot of girls here thought he was 'hot', so they followed him a bit. I think, deep down, Jake enjoyed the attention because no one had ever paid him any before. Watching him with them was enjoyable to me, seeing people in a mental hospital acting like they were just flirting with others at the mall or something. A girl, Marilyn, who had pretty cheekbones, was batting her eyelashes at him, and he tickled under her chin, emitting a loud giggle. Jake looked pleased, she looked flustered and happy, and I just sort of observed their behavior from afar. People are strange, but I probably would've giggled if Austin had done that to me. The thought of him brought little tears to my eyes, which I promptly swiped away. Jake looked back to me, and quickly took a seat to my right. The chair groaned under his weight.
"Sup." He greeted. "All the bitches want my dick." I rolled my eyes, not in the mood.
"That's disrespectful. They're not 'bitches', they are women, and they don't 'want your dick'. They just think you're cute. Don't be so egotistical." His eyes were so wide, completely taken aback.
"Dude, who pissed in your cornflakes?" He chuckled, brushing it off. I stared hard at the ground, trying not to cry. All I could think about was how he'd pushed me away. That was possibly the most ultimate form of rejection to me. His reaction to kissing me was to physically do whatever he could to get me away from him. It was repudiation in the purest form, and it made me hate myself and everything around me with a passion so intense that it burnt my throat to hold back every last angered and snippy comment within.
"Shut up." I muttered, glaring down. Jake placed his hand on my thigh, which I smacked away. "Don't touch me without permission! It's called boundaries." I snapped, repeating Austin's words from earlier. Jake nodded slowly, pulling his hand away.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled, and I felt a twitch of regret.
"It's okay." I mumbled back, wiping a tear away.
"Als, tell me what's wrong." He pleaded. Everyone was here now, sitting in a circle. I shook my head at him, not wanting to even think about it.
"Later." I mumbled.
Group therapy had always been sorta okay with me, but right now it made me want to tear my hair out. All they ever did was talk about how important self acceptance was, and how you need to actualize yourself as a human being with needs. Of course I knew those were good and necessary values, but right now, I didn't need to be here. I needed to be alone. For the rest of the time, I just suffered through it, shaking my head in declination when asked to participate. In fact, I did almost nothing for the rest of the day, barely eating or speaking. My mind was so consumed with Austin, and feeling disgusted with what I'd done. He really, really didn't want to kiss me, even if I'd imagined that he had, in fact, kissed me back for a few moments. Was I so far into this stupid fantasy that I thought he would reciprocate my feelings?
The entire ordeal sucked me deep into an anger for Blair Ridge Psychiatric Institution. Everyone here was constantly telling me what to do, where to go, what to eat, what to wear, how to act. My actions were so, so out of my own control. There was a desire deep inside me to take that control back, and I knew exactly what to do.
At the end of the day, when an orderly gave me my pills in that little plastic cup, I did what I knew I should not have. The little personality-changers and delusion-stoppers went right under my tongue, and then to the trash can right after that. It made me sick how much they were trying to make me someone that I just wasn't. That was proven by the nightmares that spilt from my head even when I was on medication. No matter how much I tried to conform to their norms, I just could not do it. I didn't want to. Slipping into bed, I pulled Austin's book out from under the pillow and opened it. On the inside cover, he had written AUSTIN CARLILE, 4/12/02 in scrawling handwriting. My throat felt like it was closing, but I continued anyways. Nothing could have stopped me.
•••
For the rest of the week, things actually continued. Isn't that a terrifying thought? Even though you're dying on the inside, and everything is falling apart, the world spins on without you. It's like missing the only train, being completely out of the loop. My mind was waist-deep in voices and delusion. The very basis of what I'd been experiencing for the past 6 days was a series of intense paranoid scenarios and hallucinations. It wasn't like before, no, it was more, now. Much more. Every sound made me jump, and voices in my mind were indiscernible from real life. Luckily, no episodes had followed, but I knew it was bound to happen at some point. How could I escape the inevitable? Austin had been completely ignoring me, and I avoided him at all costs. I'd read his book each night, and now I was almost halfway through. It was about a trauma stricken girl with no emotions who falls in love with a boy who has MS. The whole thing was brilliantly written, and just like Austin said, it made me want to stay in my room all day to read it. The worst part was that he'd written little bits in the side margins, noting what he liked, commenting, and making predictions about plot. Every time I saw his scrawl, it made me want to cry and scream. How could he not see it? We're perfect together.
"Alan?" I didn't answer. The truth was, I had no idea if it was real or in my mind. "Alan?" It sounded like Jake. I looked over my shoulder, and sure enough, there he was.
"Hi." I said, watching my world through blurry, color mixed eyes. Nothing made sense. Jake sat next to me by the butterfly garden. They wanted nothing to do with me lately, just like him. It made my stomach turn in emotion.
"What're you doing out here by yourself?" His voice sounded echo-y. I shrugged. "Are you okay?" He asked. Lie.
"Yeah, I'm good." I said slowly, trying to focus my eyes on his face. He watched me cautiously, putting a hand on my shoulder.
"O-kay then." He said suspiciously. "You seem kinda fucked up. Like you're high or something." I laughed, but it came out sounding a little strangled.
"That's stupid." I muttered.
"Where's Austin?" He asked, his name making my body cringe.
"What do you mean?"
"It's his break right now. He's always with you on breaks." Jake pointed out, but I just shrugged. It would feel nice to tell someone.
"I did something bad and now he hates me." I blurted out. Jake furrowed his eyebrows.
"Spill." He demanded.
"I- I kissed him." His eyes widened.
"Wow, Als. Didn't know you had it in ya." He chuckled a little, lifting my spirits.
"He pushed me away." I mumbled, looking away in embarrassment. Jake held my hand patiently, waiting for me to continue. "And now he won't even look at me." I felt my body being tugged downwards, and the next thing I knew, we were both lying down, me wrapped in his arms. His chest pressed to my back, the top of my head nestled under his chin. I just sighed, thinking about how much I missed Austin, how sick this whole thing felt. How could any of this get worse?
•••
Don't talk to any of them. Why are you so blind? You cannot trust a single one of them. Keep your head down, you screw-up. Stop being so disappointing. Nodding my head shakily, I complied. Breakfast was a nightmare for me; I couldn't hear anyone, but that didn't matter. I wouldn't speak to them even if I could. They just want to assimilate you. Staring weakly at a bowl of cereal, I observed the limp pieces of grain floating about aimlessly in a pool of white. Dairy milk had never made a bit of sense to me; why do we drink another animal's milk? I was pretty sure that humans were the only ones to do that, and it just seemed so wrong, so backwards. If I ever get out of here, I'm going vegan. The phrase 'if I ever' made me shudder, thinking about a lifetime of Blair Ridge. I couldn't do it.
"Hey Alan!" Jake's voice greeted me. I jumped a little, turning to look at him. Don't you dare. My head snapped back to stare at the disappointing meal, unable to summon the courage to do any different. He took a seat next to me, his chair making awful scraping noises as the legs dragged about the linoleum. My eyes shot to the side for a moment, and I saw his lips moving. All my ears interpreted was a strange warbling, like hearing someone speak underwater. It confused and terrified me. What's wrong with him? Why does he sound like that? It made me feel so scared, I scooted away a little, staring down at my hands, which were tightly gripping the table. After a few moments, his horrible noises increased, sounding angrier, and then settled down to a stop. It was much to my satisfaction, and calmed my paranoia down. Everyone was acting strangely today, and I didn't know how to deal with it.
After not eating, I headed to Dr. Wheeler's office, my feet slapping the ground in a large, thunderous way. Everything was reacting in the wrong way today, and it made me wanted to stop. He's been faking it. He doesn't want to help you. Everyone wants to watch you fall. My therapist's eyes looked so kind, and I began to question if that statement was correct or not. The second he opened his mouth, though, it was confirmed. The awful noise was back, and it made me cringe. It's dangerous to go in there. I stopped dead in my tracks. Should I? Paranoia won me over, and I stayed there, staring at him. His eyes narrowed, and the warbling got faster and louder. His form rose, spiking panic and fear inside me. I took a few steps back, and he stopped.
"Alan, can you hear me?!" His voice was practically indiscernible, but I could make it out. Don't speak to him! I am the only one you can trust! They want to change you! Taking a few more steps away, I turned and ran. It was the only thing I knew how to do in a situation like this. I knew that trusting any of them was so wrong; they only wanted to hurt, to change, me. My mind raced, unsure of what I was doing. As soon as I rounded a corner, my body crumpled to the floor and I rocked back and forth, trying to calm down. Fear drenched my body in cold sweat, and I hid my face in my arms. No one could hurt me if I didn't let them. Two strong hands grasped my upper arms, and I panicked, pushing them away.
"Alright, let's get you calmed down." A gentle voice said, pulling me up to stand. It was the first normal voice all day, and it belonged to Angela, the nurse. "Sweetie, everything's okay. Just breathe." Don't listen to her. She wants to hurt us. I couldn't decide who to listen to, and my breathing became so shallow, chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. "Take deeper breaths." She instructed, demonstrating a deep breath for me. My shaking body tried to match her paces, but it couldn't. The heart inside my chest was beating at such an incredible pace, I thought that it might implode.
"I-I c-can't d-do i-it." I choked out, tears flooding my eyes. STOP SPEAKING TO THEM. Nodding, the tears flowed down my cheeks. "I-I'm s-sorry, I d-didn't mean t-to!" My chest heaved up and down, and I shook Angela's hands away from me. She pulled a walkie-talkie from the holster wrapped around her waist.
"West wing, lower level, can I get a couple cc's of sedative?" Her voice was so in control, but I couldn't focus on it. The world around me was spinning, and the harder I tried to breathe, the more trouble I had. The next thing I knew, there was another needle in my neck. I was unable to comprehend what was happening, but it felt nice. My heart began slowing down, and air circulated through my body at a more normal rate. Soon, though, everything became too slow, and my muscles went loose. My head drooped a little bit, and I felt really tired. Angela caught me as my body tried to collapse on the floor. My eyelids dropped, and everything just kinda... floated away...
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