The Story of My Life (but not as you know it), chapter 2
Ok, I know a lot of people will be asking questions so this should answer them. My name is... well, I can't remember my real name so Hite is my adopted name. I'm 14... I think... and I've been here since I was six. I know everything about this place, from how many ceiling tiles there are to how many breakouts there have been. I'm stuck at St. Marks Home for the Mentally Disturbed, I'm desperate to get out, to be free and not have pills shoved down my throat every three hours. I've been in 'solitary confinement' for four months, the strap jacket for two. Ralf lets me out of it though. He thinks I shouldn't be in here, the padded cell I mean. He's the only one who talks to me like I'm a person, not just a thing, so I only talk to him. The carers found out though so he keeps asking me the questions the carers want answering. I just don't answer them; Ralf makes up the answers for me. He's really sweet and caring, like a brother. He always makes me laugh and I make him laugh. Shame he's 23. Now to the bit I don't want to do, explain why I'm in here in the first place. I can never do this without screaming or crying until there's nothing left. The whole reason I'm in here can be traced back to one afternoon, one dull, dismal, life changing afternoon.
My mum was lying on the lush green grass of our lawn, soaking up the last of the summer rays before autumn finally set in. Mum was a beautiful woman, constantly with a tan and something new done to her thick black hair. Her chocolate eyes would sparkle when she saw me, her face would brake into a smile, revelling her straight white teeth. Dad was always working, flying to different countries or in meetings with important people. He put two weeks aside in the summer for himself, mum and me. That was when we did stuff as a family, days out and weekends away. You could say I had it pretty easy. But that changed all to fast. Like I said mum was on the lawn when the phone rang, I was six and wasn't aloud to answer the phone (I still don't know why), she got up and answered it, a smile on her face. Dad pulled up in his BMW outside, less than pleased. He lugged his briefcase inside and threw it on the couch, before undoing his tie and kissing mum. The usual routine. He came upstairs, hugged me and said that he loved me. That was what set me thinking. He never said he loved me unless he was going away for a long time.
"Are you going away again?" I asked, my voice still squeaky.
"Yes. We all are." His glum expression transformed into a smile, but that wasn't fooling me.
"What? Like a holiday?"
"Sort of."
"Sort of? How can you have a sort of holiday?" He ruffled my dark brown hair.
"You're very inquisitive. Never lose that."
"What does inquisitive mean?"
"It means you ask a lot of questions. That's why you're so smart. And since you're so smart you won't disobey me, will you?" I shook my head. "Good, know what ever happens stay up here tonight, No matter what you hear downstairs stay up here."
"Ok." I said, really confused. Dad smiled and I smiled as he pulled me into a tight hug, nearly suffocating me. He walked into his study and stayed there for a long time. He stayed there until someone knocked on the door. That was the only time he went out; it was the last time too. At the door was a figure, dressed entirely in black so I couldn't see his face, I could only see his green eyes from my sneaky position (I'd snuck downstairs. It was the first time I'd gone against anything my dad said. I was a good girl). Dad let the man in and he crept round to where mum was sat, making no noise as his feet padded along the carpet. He pulled a gun out of his sock and placed it against mum's head, pulling the trigger and killing her instantly. I suppressed a scream. I was shaking. Mum's lifeless corpse flopped forward, a gaping, bloody hole in her head. Dad started sobbing as he looked at his feet. The man then pulled the gun on him, creating another blood filled crater. Dad wobbled on his feet before crashing down on the assassin's shoes. He shrugged dad off and scoured the house for anything he could steal. He ended up taking most of the house. I stayed in my hiding place for days, rocking back and forth, not doing anything to keep myself alive. I stayed in the house with my parents bodies for two weeks. I was only found when dad's boss came knocking to find out where he was. He got the shock of his life. I was put in a foster home but that ended badly. I stabbed someone with a sharpened pencil. They didn't die but they've lost the use of their right leg. That was when I was shipped here, to good old St. Marks. I didn't speak for two years. I had daily appointments with the physiatrist, still didn't say anything. The carers tried to make me talk, still nothing. Then... there was Ralf. He was a volunteer on work experience. He wanted to help people less fortunate than himself. The first time I saw him was frightening. He was dressed all in black and had green eyes. I thought it was the man, come back to finish the job. The scream I'd suppressed erupted in all its glory. I screamed for days on end, remembering the horror I'd seen. Now whenever I see someone dressed in black with green eyes, I freak out. I just scream and scream and scream until they go away. Ralf now knows not to wear black to work.
The door of my cell opened and I tensed up. I had no reason to be afraid, it was only Ralf.
"Hiya Hite." He said in a jolly voice.
"Hiya." I said back. We'd gained each others trust over the years and he could defiantly keep a secret. I stood up and let him undo the buckles on the jacket and scratched my back. It was killing me.
"What's new in the land of nightmares?" He asked. He always asked.
"Not much although I did see the guy this time."
"With or without detail?"
"With most details, not all."
"See you are getting better, now you just gotta find the door."
"Sounds easier than it actually is." Ralf nodded and pulled a letter from his pocket.
"Don't tell anyone I gave it to you." He smirked, handing it over. The hand writing was neat yet scruffy. He wrote back. I tore the letter open, sat down and read it.
Hite,
Sorry I haven't written lately, I've been a bit busy with the tour and everything. It's nearly over and my arms feel like they're gonna drop off. It is fun though and exhilarating, seeing that many faces all singing and head banging along. Sorry you couldn't come to one of them, you would have loved it. Anyway, down to the good stuff. Please find enclosed three pictures, one of Billie, completely drunk and dancing, one of Mike sleeping and one of the view from my drums when everyone's there. It's frightening *scary laughs*! Gossip, gossip, gossip... there isn't much this time, oh wait there is! I now know who to dance like Britney Spears from that 'Toxic' video, I don't suppose you've seen it though, oh well I'll show it to you when I come and visit next month. THAT was the other thing I was gonna tell you. The people at... your place finally aloud me to visit, 'just for the day though' I don't want to stay for a day, I want to stay for a week to see how you live. I've always wanted to know how you survive in there. Anyway I'll be there on the 21st, we all will. I 'persuaded' the guys to come along. I've told Billie not to wear black so you should be fine. Oh shit, I'm wanted for autographs so I gotta go.
See ya next month,
Tre.
My mum was lying on the lush green grass of our lawn, soaking up the last of the summer rays before autumn finally set in. Mum was a beautiful woman, constantly with a tan and something new done to her thick black hair. Her chocolate eyes would sparkle when she saw me, her face would brake into a smile, revelling her straight white teeth. Dad was always working, flying to different countries or in meetings with important people. He put two weeks aside in the summer for himself, mum and me. That was when we did stuff as a family, days out and weekends away. You could say I had it pretty easy. But that changed all to fast. Like I said mum was on the lawn when the phone rang, I was six and wasn't aloud to answer the phone (I still don't know why), she got up and answered it, a smile on her face. Dad pulled up in his BMW outside, less than pleased. He lugged his briefcase inside and threw it on the couch, before undoing his tie and kissing mum. The usual routine. He came upstairs, hugged me and said that he loved me. That was what set me thinking. He never said he loved me unless he was going away for a long time.
"Are you going away again?" I asked, my voice still squeaky.
"Yes. We all are." His glum expression transformed into a smile, but that wasn't fooling me.
"What? Like a holiday?"
"Sort of."
"Sort of? How can you have a sort of holiday?" He ruffled my dark brown hair.
"You're very inquisitive. Never lose that."
"What does inquisitive mean?"
"It means you ask a lot of questions. That's why you're so smart. And since you're so smart you won't disobey me, will you?" I shook my head. "Good, know what ever happens stay up here tonight, No matter what you hear downstairs stay up here."
"Ok." I said, really confused. Dad smiled and I smiled as he pulled me into a tight hug, nearly suffocating me. He walked into his study and stayed there for a long time. He stayed there until someone knocked on the door. That was the only time he went out; it was the last time too. At the door was a figure, dressed entirely in black so I couldn't see his face, I could only see his green eyes from my sneaky position (I'd snuck downstairs. It was the first time I'd gone against anything my dad said. I was a good girl). Dad let the man in and he crept round to where mum was sat, making no noise as his feet padded along the carpet. He pulled a gun out of his sock and placed it against mum's head, pulling the trigger and killing her instantly. I suppressed a scream. I was shaking. Mum's lifeless corpse flopped forward, a gaping, bloody hole in her head. Dad started sobbing as he looked at his feet. The man then pulled the gun on him, creating another blood filled crater. Dad wobbled on his feet before crashing down on the assassin's shoes. He shrugged dad off and scoured the house for anything he could steal. He ended up taking most of the house. I stayed in my hiding place for days, rocking back and forth, not doing anything to keep myself alive. I stayed in the house with my parents bodies for two weeks. I was only found when dad's boss came knocking to find out where he was. He got the shock of his life. I was put in a foster home but that ended badly. I stabbed someone with a sharpened pencil. They didn't die but they've lost the use of their right leg. That was when I was shipped here, to good old St. Marks. I didn't speak for two years. I had daily appointments with the physiatrist, still didn't say anything. The carers tried to make me talk, still nothing. Then... there was Ralf. He was a volunteer on work experience. He wanted to help people less fortunate than himself. The first time I saw him was frightening. He was dressed all in black and had green eyes. I thought it was the man, come back to finish the job. The scream I'd suppressed erupted in all its glory. I screamed for days on end, remembering the horror I'd seen. Now whenever I see someone dressed in black with green eyes, I freak out. I just scream and scream and scream until they go away. Ralf now knows not to wear black to work.
The door of my cell opened and I tensed up. I had no reason to be afraid, it was only Ralf.
"Hiya Hite." He said in a jolly voice.
"Hiya." I said back. We'd gained each others trust over the years and he could defiantly keep a secret. I stood up and let him undo the buckles on the jacket and scratched my back. It was killing me.
"What's new in the land of nightmares?" He asked. He always asked.
"Not much although I did see the guy this time."
"With or without detail?"
"With most details, not all."
"See you are getting better, now you just gotta find the door."
"Sounds easier than it actually is." Ralf nodded and pulled a letter from his pocket.
"Don't tell anyone I gave it to you." He smirked, handing it over. The hand writing was neat yet scruffy. He wrote back. I tore the letter open, sat down and read it.
Hite,
Sorry I haven't written lately, I've been a bit busy with the tour and everything. It's nearly over and my arms feel like they're gonna drop off. It is fun though and exhilarating, seeing that many faces all singing and head banging along. Sorry you couldn't come to one of them, you would have loved it. Anyway, down to the good stuff. Please find enclosed three pictures, one of Billie, completely drunk and dancing, one of Mike sleeping and one of the view from my drums when everyone's there. It's frightening *scary laughs*! Gossip, gossip, gossip... there isn't much this time, oh wait there is! I now know who to dance like Britney Spears from that 'Toxic' video, I don't suppose you've seen it though, oh well I'll show it to you when I come and visit next month. THAT was the other thing I was gonna tell you. The people at... your place finally aloud me to visit, 'just for the day though' I don't want to stay for a day, I want to stay for a week to see how you live. I've always wanted to know how you survive in there. Anyway I'll be there on the 21st, we all will. I 'persuaded' the guys to come along. I've told Billie not to wear black so you should be fine. Oh shit, I'm wanted for autographs so I gotta go.
See ya next month,
Tre.
