Linnea Pov
I sat there looking down at my hands. No, they're not just laying peacefully laying in my lap. No, I'm not blushing and instinctly looking down at my hands bashfully because I was just called beautiful. No, No, No.
They were shaking like I had never seen them before.
I, Linnea Rooney, was being sent to a psych ward.
No, I didn't kill anyone, No I didn't committ any crimes.
My parents think I've gone insane after all that has happened to me this year. I'm not going insane, I just hear things ordinary people don't hear. I don't think that's much of a problem, but I guess it is.
What do you mean, you might ask. I have been diagnosed with Schizophrenia.
Schizophrenia is the mental illness of interpreting reality abnormally. My specific case is experiencing hearing voices, mistrust, paranoia, anxiety, depression and I just don't eat.
But, before I get into that.. Let me explain to you a little about me.
My name is Linnea Rooney. Yes, Linnea. When my mom had me, she gave my dad the privelege to name me.
My dad was drunk as drunk can get. No, he wasn't abusive. But, he was a dumbfuck I'll tell you that. When he was told he got to choose the name, he looked around the room, he saw a small vase of flowers. He slurred "Let's name him flower". First of all, I am a her, and flower.. really? Well, anyway, My mom giggled and said "Great!!!!". But the doctor, thank the lord jesus christ, said "What about Linnea? It means flower, but It's more elegant." And that makes me Linnea.
I am currently 16 years old. I have long wavy brown hair that runs to my mid back, and gray eyes. Yes gray. I know, boring.
But, one of the very few interesting things about me, is that my eyes turn colors depending on my mood.
Green- Happy
Bright blue- Sad
Light Gray- Scared
Dark Gray- Angry
I am depressed. Now don't you dare get mad at me for being depressed like every other main character of a fanfiction. I don't cut. I don't have the energy to actually find something to cut my self.
I just don't eat. It's not like I chose not to eat, like I don't want to be fat. That's not the case. He tells me not to eat. So, I can't. He's in my mind and I can't get him out.
Currently, I am sitting on my hard, cold kitchen chair, waiting for the bus to arrive.
I also don't talk. I can't trust anyone. No one here can or will know my story. I don't let people in. I don't need help. They could be teamed up with Daman and they could kill me.
Not today.
I also have a passion for dance. It speaks for me when I have no words. No, I've never been to a single dance lesson. My parents could'nt afford it. I've taught my self. I don't give a shit if I'm not good, I just want to dance away my feelings.
Well, I think you've learned enough about me.
Nash's POV
Hey.
I'm nash.
Yes, the nash that just happened to get vine famous, or "Bigger than Bieber" as most like to call it.
You may have thought that that was an easy paradise that I had brought my self into.
But it's not.
I'm depressed. I enjoy the feeling of pain. I deserve it. I deserve the pain after crushing the confidence of my fans from a stupid ass video.
I'm a rather simple guy. Short easy answers, simple and average way of dealing with events.
But, that has changed.
So, my parents thought it would be best if I wasn't around Skylynn and Hayes anymore. So, i'm being sent to a psych ward for mental help and support.
(sorry guys this is a shitty portion of nash but it'll get better as the chapters procede)
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I watch as my house slowly drifts away from me as the bus drives farther and farther away from it.
That may be my house, but it's also where my heart belongs. I have people living in there that I care more about than anyone. Even though I may miss them, I can't bear to hurt them by being there.
As most know, I'm currently in Moorseville,North Carolina. I have honestly no idea where this psych place is. but I will be making many stops on the way there.
I hear the guard next to me grunt. He's probably sick of being surrounded by people who are mentally unstable. But hey, he's getting paid to do this so he better suck it up and deal with us.
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I think I've been on this bus for more than 4 hours. I have no idea where we are, but I think we're picking another "mental" up soon.
I lift up my head to get even the smallest view of our surroundings outside of the bus.
I get a small glimpse of tall buildings and brick walls. I wonder where we could be.
I look back down, just to find the temptation to look back up and find out where we are.
As soon as my eyes focus, the bus jerks to a stop.
We're picking someone up.
