The 'Psycho' In Psychology

6 ~ Gutted

Kinda proud of this haha...

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When I woke up, it was white.

I didn’t really know what to think when I saw the walls that surrounded my bound body. I struggled to free my arms from the restraining clothing they had put me in, clasping my arms to my sides. I felt for my necklace; it was still there. Despite trying to remain calm, I still screamed. I still kicked, and rolled, proving I was just as insane as they said I was. I wish I could say I couldn’t remember hurting Callie, but I would be lying. Her blood, my blood, her clothes, my clothes.

I never thought I could be such a monster.

I curled up on the floor, when a person drifted into my room. Riley looked sadder than ever, and…disappointed in me. I hated that look on his face. He shook his head softly. Before settling down beside me. Tears streamed down my face-isolation had never made me feel as isolated as I did right now.

“I thought I was hitting her, Riley.” I whispered.

He screwed up his face. “The red-head? She has a name you know.”

“Really?” Although it seemed dumb that she wouldn’t. After all, she was dead, like Riley.

“Yup. Sherry.”

“I wish I hadn’t hit her.

Riley made a face of disgust. “For what it’s worth, she deserved it. Red suits her.”

I grinned weakly. Riley never failed to make me smile, even though he was dead. He drifted down beside me, and reached out as if to try to soothe me, but his hand only passed through. I furrowed my brow in confusion.

“Hey, Riley. How come you can touch objects but can’t touch humans?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. Guess that’s just the way it is.”

“And why can’t all the other ghosts touch objects, but you can?”

“Like I said, I dunno.”

For some reason, I had the feeling Riley was hiding something. His eyes were shifting, and he was running a hand nervously through his hair. His slightly transparent body twitched and shook, like a bad radio transmission. His lip twitched in that way that it did when he was lying, or trying to avoid a very touchy subject. He smiled weakly.

“Riley.” I growled. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing!”

I sat up straight, “Riley Dawson, tell me what you are hiding!”

“I’m not. Jeez, first you push me off the cliff, and now you won’t believe me?”

My heart stopped. Riley’s eyes widened. His mouth popped open and close, trying to find an apology, but he must have noticed I wasn’t really listening. The depression and guilt and anger was eating me up inside, my close-to-tears blurring my vision. I crawled up against the side of the white walls, letting it swallow me up. I felt a cold breeze when Riley left.

I would ask Seth when I got out. And I wouldn’t take no for an answer.

**********

“He…hasn’t crossed over.”

I sipped my coffee with little interest; I’d been thirsty a few minutes ago for being in isolation, but I wasn’t now. Seth was sitting opposite me, possibly looking the most professional he had in a while. He was wearing a suit today instead of those indie shirts, and black pants instead of the jeans he normally opted for. He looked like he was going somewhere, because his normally messy hair had been tamed.