Chapter One

I couldn't believe it. I had been shipped off to some mental health hospital of some sort. It was where my older sister had been sent last year, and I apparently belonged there as well. I was completely fine, though. My issue wasn't something I wanted anyone to worry about or waste their time trying to help me fix.

I trudged over to one of the tables in the cafeteria after getting lunch, which was a couple of pancakes. The table I chose had five children already sitting at it—three girls and two boys.

The first kid was a girl with waist-length, slightly messy black hair and darkish blue eyes. She wore a tight, short, low-cut light blue dress, a black belt with a silver buckle, and black combat boots.

The second was a girl with shoulder-length red hair that curled slightly at the ends and blue-framed shades that hid her eyes. She wore a tealish t-shirt, dark blue capris, white ankle socks, and black and white boy's shoes.

The third was a boy with dark brown hair and dark green eyes. He wore a baggy black t-shirt, baggy jeans, and purple and gray shoes that looked a couple sizes too big.

The fourth was a boy with reddish-brown hair and brown eyes. He wore a white t-shirt, jeans, a purple jacket, and brown, black, and beige tennis shoes.

The fifth was a girl with what looked like knee-length raven black hair in a braid and bright blue eyes. She wore a white button-up shirt, a black skirt, black leggings, and black high-heels.

"Nice to have someone new here!" the red-haired girl chirped. "I'm Tania Ishaku!" She held out a hand. It wasn't really being offered directly to me, but instead just in my general direction.

I stared at her hand for a moment before shaking it with my own. "Uh, yeah, nice to meet you... I'm Ryan."

Tania giggled. "Oh, you're there. Well, it's nice to meet you, bro!"

"Tania, you are being improper, and therefore bordering on impolite," the raven-haired girl hissed through her teeth.

Tania pushed up her shades, huffed, and crossed her arms. "Fine, Miss Know-It-All, show me how it's properly done."

The raven-haired girl stood up and calmly walked to the other side of the table where I was sitting and folded her hands neatly in front of her. "Hello. My name is Karoline Hailey Matthews." She offered me her hand. "Do you mind telling me yours?"
I shook Karoline's hand and responded shyly with, "My name is Ryan."

Karoline bowed slightly. "It's a pleasure meeting you, Ryan." She took a seat at the other side of the table.

The brown-haired boy—who was a very obvious former druggie, by the way he looked—nudged my tray of food closer to me. "Bro, you might wanna eat somethin' while ya can. Lunch is gonna be endin' a lot earlier today. That Carmine chick completely flipped when she heard. Had'a be restrained ta make her stop rantin' about how people need ta learn how ta keep a consistent schedule."

Carmine.

That was my sister all right.

I shook my head. "No, I'm fine. I don't have any appetite."

"So is that why you're here?"

"Hmm?" I give him a confused look.

"Same reason as Karol. Anorexia."

"Oh, no." I tapped one of my wrists, hoping he'd understand from that. I was sure that if I had to say it out loud or even just push up my sleeves to show him the cuts, I'd just break down crying.

He nodded, his face gaining a serious expression. "Don't ever feel like you're alone. That's how a lot of us got sent here. Drug addictions an' anorexia's pretty common here, too."

We all sat in silence for a few more minutes before a loud whistle echoed off the walls. Everyone stood up, leaving their food trays on the table, and lined up in five rows. Each row was in front of a different door. Tania wrapped a hand tightly around one of my wrists and lightly grabbed the hand of the girl in the blue dress.

"You never can memorize the way here, can you?" she huffed.

"In case you've forgotten, Valyrie, I'm blind," Tania shot back.

"Maybe we should only ever sit at one table." She rolled her eyes and let go of Tania's hand in front of the third line.

Already lined up was Karoline, a blond girl, and a black-haired girl, and a trembling brunette boy. I went ahead and assumed that there were thirty-one patients including myself, since all the lines had six—excluding one, which had seven—once everyone had lined up and I was the sixth in this line.

The door for the line I was in opened up after a couple of moments. Holding the door open for us to go inside was a blond man with blue-eyes wearing a red, white, and blue t-shirt, tight jeans, and red, white, and blue Converse shoes. He pushed up his rectangular glasses as he sat down across from where the patients sat down.

"I'll introduce myself first," he said in a bright cheerful voice. His eyes betrayed his feelings, however, and showed sadness and remorse. "I'm Alfred Williams, the one who started this place with my siblings for the good of America's children. I have huge expectations for this country and I work to help the US achieve them. My dream is to make this nation as perfect as it can get. The first step is helping the children of this generation." Alfred smiled at me briefly. He then skimmed through the papers before looking up again.

"Let's start off with Karoline today." Alfred nodded in the direction of the short, thin girl. "Karoline, do you mind announcing your illness for the newcomer?"

She stood up and made sure her back was straight before speaking. "Many people believe I just have anorexia, though I technically have anorexia nervosa."

"Would you be willing to explain the difference to us?"

"Yes, of course, Mr. Williams." She bowed ever so slightly. "Anorexia is the entire loss of appetite, meaning that the victim isn't hungry. Not quite very full, they just aren't hungry and therefore they feel no real reason to eat. Anorexia nervosa, however, is an entirely mental disorder in which the victim of it is usually very hungry though refuses to eat because they're either afraid of getting fat or believe they're already fat."

"Yes, exactly. Can you give us an example?"

"Whenever I stand on the scale in my bedroom, it always reads around seventy pounds. I also haven't been growing at all since this predicament started. I know I should eat a lot more than I do, I'm always hungry, and I get terrible migraines from it, but whenever I look in the mirror, all my brain lets me see is overweight and ugly."

Alfred scribbled some things down on one of the papers clipped to the clipboard that was held in his left hand. "Now, how has your progress been since yesterday?"

"Excellent, actually." She beamed, obviously feeling proud of herself. "I couldn't bring myself to eat one of the afternoon snacks, though I ate ten of the baby carrots last night at dinner, most of my cereal at breakfast, and half a pancake at lunch."

"That's wonderful!" Alfred's eyes sparkled with delight at hearing the progress of the patient. He wrote a few more things down on the paper. "Next is Rosie." He pointed to the blond with his pen.

"Former drug addict," she announced casually without a single hint of regret, uncertainty, or shyness. Just a bit of a valley girl accent laced her words, and it made the usually-annoying accent actually sound really pretty.

"Yes, why is that?"

"My dad left when my mom became a druggie." There was no remorse in her words. The way she so very casually spoke about it was a bit unnerving in my honest opinion. "Then I found my mom's alcohol basement and I figured that, since it seemed to make my mom better, it would help me. I tried to share it with my sister, but she just said she didn't want anything to do with it."

"You don't seem regretful, darling. How do you really feel about this?"

"Awful, but I wanna share my sadness with Devon only."

"And why is that?"

"When I was four, my preschool teacher always told everyone in the class to try to find sunshine whenever the dark rain clouds come in. It's hard to, so I wanna at least try to share the sunshine with everyone."

"You're a wonderful person, Rosie. You really are." Alfred flipped to another page. "Please share your progress."

"I've suppressed my want for beer for ten hours already. Also I realized soda tastes much better." She bounced up and down in her chair a few times.

Alfred looked absolutely delighted. "That's excellent!" He scribbled something else down and then pointed at the black-haired girl with his pen. "Kaoru?"

The girl nodded briefly. "I suffer from schizophrenia as well as apathy."

"Will you tell us the cause of this, sweetheart?"

"An accident when I was eleven made me this way."

"Can you tell us why?"

She bit down on her lip, much like I do, but she didn't draw any blood as far as I could tell. "Please don't make me."

Alfred smiled comfortingly at her. "No one is ever allowed to make you do anything."

She smiled slightly in return.
"Now, Kaoru, do you mind sharing your progress?"
She shook her head. "I don't want to do that."

"All right." He scratched the pen against the paper once more and flipped to another sheet as he said, "Arthur now."

"I-I, uh...I h-have several a-anxiety disorders," he stammered. "I-it would take, um...f-forever to list th-them all off."

Alfred nodded. "Now, I know you hate giving the reasons, so please share your progress if you feel comfortable."

"I t-t-talked to V-Valyrie yesterday. I just, um, a-asked if she h-had seen my notebook, though..."

"You approached her, though, and not the other way around?"

He nodded. "S-sí."

Alfred looked as if he couldn't even fathom what Arthur had just said for a few moments. "Wonderful! You're getting a lot better!" He scribbled more of what I assumed was nonsense. "Next, Tania."

She giggled and held her hands out, palms up, showing scars all over her wrists. "Made these while I was stoned. Got something else, but that current hasn't been diagnosed."

"Mind sharing how this came to be?"

"Carter always treated drugs normally and casually, since he was a total crackhead." She shrugged. "I always went on about justice, so I assumed he got it through his stupid head that I hated the fact that he was a crackhead. I guess he hadn't, since he gave me something. Got hooked and I just couldn't stop."

"Have you made any progress?"

Tania shook her head. "Nope."

"All right." Alfred wrote down something else and then let all the papers fall back onto the clipboard. "Finally, our newcomer, Ryan. Ryan, please tell us the reason you're here."

I couldn't say it out loud. There was no way. I tapped my wrists, staying perfectly silent.

Alfred nodded in understanding and his eyes were full of sympathy. "Do you mind showing, so it's understood how bad it got? No one here is going to poke fun or judge you. I promise."

His voice was so soothing and reassuring.

I pushed up my sleeves and held my hands out with the palms up. The underside of my arms were nearly entirely pink from all the scars. It was all I could do to not break down crying right then and there.

Alfred pushed up his glasses and looked at me, his gaze intense. "No one is perfect. My twin sister had the same problem. It's all okay. Me and my siblings are here to help."

I nodded, pushing my sleeves back down and covering my face. No one was ever supposed to know about it, but now I was here at a place where my issue isn't going to be allowed to remain a secret. To make it worse, it's full of people who I feel are silently judging me. It was my fault and my fault only, though. If only I had managed to kill myself properly, I'd have saved everyone I'd ever meet for the rest of my life the misfortune of ever having to see me and my pathetic self, and save the time of everyone here.

After a little while of the others talking and leaving me alone, Alfred blew a whistle. "Time for the personal therapy now! Things are going to change starting today, so you'll have to remember. Those who have Maddeline as their therapist are moved up an hour." He then stood up and opened the door, dismissing everyone.

I walked around, staying close to the wall, until I approached a door that had "MADDELINE WILLIAMS" written on it. I slowly opened the door to see a woman with blue eyes and long blond hair sitting in front of a desk. She wore a long pastel blue dress, white socks, and black dress shoes.

"Please take a seat, dear," she said quietly.

I did as I was told.

"Now," she continued, "we can't make you tell us anything, but the more you tell me, the more I have to work with to help you. Please, if you feel all right doing so, tell me what is your issue and what led up to it?"

I glanced up at the clock and could already tell that this was going to be a really, really long hour.

2: Chapter Two
Chapter Two

Seven minutes passed and I still couldn't bring myself say anything. I knew I should say something, but it was so much harder than I thought when I was in this situation. I knew she wanted to help me, and I knew her job was to help me. Still, I had no voice it seemed.

"Any time, hon," she said softly. "You still have fifty-three minutes left."

Somehow that made me find my voice again. "I-I think I'm ready to talk now..."

She smiled slightly and nodded. "Then please, tell me all you're comfortable with."

I nodded. "Well, I kinda...have depression and...did this to my arms..." I rolled up my sleeves and showed Maddeline my arms. She gasped quietly, obviously taken aback by the pinkish skin, especially since it was riddled with the cuts I had made recently.

"Abuse, bullying, all kinds of crap like that, that's why I did it. The majority of people don't care about me. I'm gonna go ahead and guess that God wanted to make someone to be so imperfectly terrible that everyone hated said person so much that even his own parents didn't ever want to have anything to do with him to the point where his mother left and forced him and his sister to be stuck with the spawn of the devil for the rest of their childhood years. And it doesn't get better anywhere he goes. Oh, no, of course not! God created him to suck and never be liked by anyone, so there's no way he'll ever get a break from anyone! So he just trudges through school and life and quits trying to make it any better. Why? Because he realized that it was never going to get any better no matter what he did. That was the bottom freaking line. He gave up lying to himself and let whatever anyone wanted just freaking happen because he wasn't even living anymore! He was sorta just there, completely lifeless, just going through the motions at that point!"

I wasn't really even aware of what I was saying at that point. It was only when I was nearing the end that I understood the words that were tumbling rapidly out of my mouth again.

"...and as I already stated, no one gave a single crap about him and honestly would prefer it if he just killed himself, and they'd just hate him even more if they found out that he can't even manage to kill himself properly! And for some reason, that person just had to be me. I guess I'm just a complete piece of crap and I'm beginning to believe that the reason anything bad has ever happened anywhere is because the abomination of myself had existed at some point."

I just sat there, staring at Maddeline and panting. I had nothing left to say at that point. There probably was literally nothing that didn't spill out. There wasn't anything else to do but sit in silence.

"That's...quite the story, Ryan." She paused for a few moments, not seeming to know exactly what to say. "Let me tell you a thing or two to help give you a little bit of a consolation, all right?"

I looked at her. There was no way anything this lady said could help me feel better in the very least.

"It doesn't matter what anyone says." She pushed her chair—which apparently had wheels—around the desk and stopped it next to the chair I was sitting it. She put an arm around around me and lightly squeezed my shoulders. "You shouldn't beat yourself up so much. It's not your fault you're not perfect. No one is perfect. Don't be ashamed of your flaws. I'm going to help you through your problems, so try to cooperate. Just remember...none of it is your fault."
I couldn't believe it. It was like she knew exactly what to say, to the point it was like she had been through the same situation.

"B-but—" I began, tears starting to fall down my cheeks.

"Hush," she whispered comfortingly, rubbing my back in gentle circles. "It's all right, hon. You're not a piece of crap."

I couldn't get any more pathetic at this if I tried. I was just sitting there crying and sobbing in front of someone I hardly even knew. I shouldn't have been, though. It was a reminder of how weak, useless, and pathetic I truly am. It wasn't like I didn't know it, I just didn't need any reminders. They hurt almost as much as being so worthless in the first place.

As if Maddeline could read my mind, she let out a soft sigh and whispered, "It's fine, Ryan. Everyone cries at times, even the strongest people. It's being human and not anything else. Just let all of it out, okay? You'll feel much better, I promise."

So I did. I sat there and cried. My breath came out in loud sobs and caught on my violent hiccups. I didn't feel weak or pathetic for it, either. Not after what Maddeline had said.

About ten or eleven minutes passed before my sobbing stopped, and I just lay in the woman's warm embrace hiccuping. She was right. I felt so much better at that point, and it was better than anything I had ever felt in four years. I was done feeling regretful for crying. As Maddeline had said before I completely broke down, it's a show of humanity.

"Are you feeling better now, hon?" she asked, wiping my eyes carefully with a tissue.

I nodded, unable to say anything because of the tight knot in my throat. I was entirely exhausted from the whole session, both mentally and physically.

As if she could once again tell exactly what I was thinking, she stood me up, walked me over to the corner, and sat down. She had me sit down next to her and she stroked my hair.

"Just rest your head on my chest, sweetheart. There are twenty-one minutes left. You should sleep for that time."

I nodded and leaned against her, my body pressed against hers and my head on her chest. Her heartbeat was loud and tranquilizing, making me feel calmer.

Before letting myself fall asleep, I quickly compared Maddeline and the guidance counselors I'd been to.

Maddeline's touch was motherly and it was easy to tell she cared. She truly wanted to know her patients personally and help them overcome their problems no matter what. It was as if it was a completely all-or-nothing deal in her mind. There was never any doubt in her voice, but she didn't give those ohs andmhms as I had expected her to. She never once looked down at her clipboard and wrote things down. She didn't nod while looking up or down or any direction but directly at me. It was pretty obvious that she honestly, truly did care about me.

The other counselors I'd been to didn't seem to even rival Maddeline in any way. They just sat there pretending that they understood and cared. No, it wasn't the all-or-nothing idea Maddeline seemed to have at all—they pretended to care because they wouldn't get paid if they didn't. They couldn't even remember my name if they didn't have it written down. They always had their eyes fixed to their clipboard, writing everything down because they didn't care to memorize it for long enough to scribble it down at the end. They just sat there, nodding, humming a quiet "Mhm" or "Uh-huh" every time they assumed they should. They just didn't really care.

After the three-minute analysis, I let my eyelids close and I nodded off, causing myself to be plunged into blackness.

3: Chapter Three
Chapter Three

I woke to a soft shaking and opened my eyes slowly. I could see a blank white ceiling above me and felt some kind of cushion under me. There was no way still being in Maddeline's office was a possibility.

"Are you feeling okay now?"

It was Karoline's pretty voice.

I sat up and saw that the small girl was holding a large Hershey's chocolate bar in her right hand.

"I brought you a snack, Ryan." She held the chocolate bar out to me with a faint smile. "You slept right through your sister carrying you up here. It's almost six o'clock now, so I figured it was about time for you to eat something."

I accepted the chocolate and unwrapped it. "Want some?"

She shook her head. "No, I'm fine. I'm not hungry."

Her statement was instantly contradicted my a loud growl from her stomach. I couldn't help but feel just a little bit sorry for her. It was hard to honestly believe that she saw only fat and ugly when she looked in the mirror. She was really thin and the cutest little thing I had ever seen.

I broke a few of the rectangular pieces off and offered them to her. "I want you to have at least just a little bit, Karol."

"But...I'm already too big..."

I put the chocolate on the palm of her right hand. I grabbed her and shook her a little, making sure not to hurt anything in her frail little body.

"Listen to me, Karoline," I snapped. "You're tiny and beautiful! I love your looks and your personality seems really amazing! But the world is going to lose a wonderful person if you don't start eating more!"

She looked at me, and it felt as if she was staring straight into my soul. I could tell she was hurting, and that she was completely torn. After a couple of moments, she slowly took a small bite. It was good to actually see her eating something.

I took a couple bites of my own and we sat in silence for a few minutes. It wasn't really uncomfortable, tense, or awkward like I would have anticipated it to be. It really created more of a calm air, or maybe that was just the vibes of comfort and relief that Karoline was letting off in powerful waves.

After a couple more minutes, she broke the silence.

"M-may I...please have a little more?"

I broke a larger chunk off of the chocolate bar and handed it to her.

She ate it much slower than she did the last piece, probably becoming more and more paranoid with each bite she took. Still, though, she kept on eating and her smile didn't fade for a second. We kept eating until we had polished off the last of the chocolate.

Although I was sure I had eaten at very least twice as much as she did, it was still consoling that she had eaten it and even asked for more.

"That was very good," Karoline said, her intense green eyes shining. "I could enjoy that without worrying too much."

"I'm glad you—"

I was cut off by the loud sound of a bell.

"It sounds like it's dinner time now." Karoline smiled and got up. "Come on. I'll introduce you to my friends here." She offered me her hand, which I accepted as I stood up.

"I thought I already met them this morning."

She started out the door and down the stairs. "Oh, no. Those are just some kids I met yesterday. Erin suffered from depression and was sent here after trying to commit suicide, Janie has bulimia, and Mary is schizophrenic. They're all really nice and I'm sure they'll all like you."

That made me feel a lot more secure. I was quite glad that there weren't any former drug addicts. The only one I felt okay around was Rosie. I didn't think it to be my fault, however, but instead my dad's. In fact, I decided to blame him for my depression, my cutting, and me having to be here.

Once we arrived at the cafeteria, we quickly got dinner—ham and mashed potatoes—and sat down at a table with two girls already sitting at it.

One had long, wavy light brown hair and bright green eyes. She wore a sleeveless dark green shirt with black lace along the hem, an ankle-length black skirt with a rip up the side of it, thigh-high white socks, black high heels, and ruby earrings.

The other had bobbed dirty blond hair and ice blue eyes. She wore a tight red and white t-shirt with pink hearts, light denim skinny jeans that were a couple inches too short, and pink sandals with white and pastel blue flowers.

"Hello, Karoline," the blond chirped. "We missed you today at lunch!"

"Oh, hello, Erin! Mary!" Karoline sat down, beaming. "I would like you to meet my new roommate, Ryan."

I waved and sat down next to Karoline.

"He's so cute!" the brunette, whom I assumed was Mary, squealed. "Patricia thinks so, too."

"Patricia?" I echoed.

"She tells me no one can see or hear her. I can hear her, though. We've been a couple for about a year and a half now."

Just those three sentences made me want to cry. She was in love with a girl who only existed as a voice inside her head. I've read about several different mental diseases on the Internet, but making contact with someone who genuinely had a mental illness made me aware of just how tragic it really is.

"Oh..."

There was nothing more that I felt like I could say. I couldn't exactly tell her that her beloved Patricia wasn't real—she would never believe me, and it would probably make her really angry. But it's not like I could bring myself wish her luck with her relationship with her nonexistent girlfriend, either.

"Let's loosen up this tense silence, shall we?" Karoline suggested. "Maybe we could—Hey, where's Janie?"

"Right here!" a new voice exclaimed.

A girl with black hair in a boy's haircut and green eyes took a seat next to Mary. She wore a black t-shirt with a pink long-sleeved shirt underneath it, a floor-length skirt that hid her shoes, silver skull earrings, silver snake bites, and lots of black makeup. I assumed she was gothic, though I didn't ask her out of fear that it might offend or anger her.

"Who's the kid sitting with us this time?" she asked.

Karoline put an arm around me. "This is Ryan, the one who arrived today. He's sitting here because I'm really his only friend here so far. I was hoping you would give him a nice, warm welcome."

Janie and Mary smiled kindly, and Erin held out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," she said with a hint of a New York accent. "Name's Erin. It's great to meet you!"

I shook her hand and muttered a quiet "Hi."

"So why are you here? Bulimia? Anxiety? Drug addictions?"

I shook my head. "No. Same reason Karoline said you're here."

Erin nodded, looking sympathetic. "Just remember you're never alone. There are always going to be people here to look out for you."
It was as if everyone here knew exactly who I was and how I functioned. I knew I was going to come by a few people who hated me, but with everyone who supports me so far, it wouldn't even matter.

More awkward silence.

"So, hey, I'm gonna be playing strip poker with Mi-Yun, Carter, and Bianca tonight after dinner!" Erin said, obviously unnerved by the silence. "Do any of you wanna join in on the fun?"

"Sounds like fun," Mary replied.

Karoline responded with a simple, "No thank you."

Janie and I both just shook our heads. That was not a game I was interested in ever playing.

Erin just shrugged. "You three are really missing out on a lot of fun, though, guys."

The five of us spent the rest of dinner talking, making jokes, and laughing.

At the end, the bell rang. Everyone stood up and lined up in front of a large gray door.

After the patients chatted for a while, the door was opened. Holding it was a blond-haired, blue-eyed woman wearing a red and blue tank top, a denim miniskirt, and beige sandals.

I followed everyone into the large room. There were several different activities spread around the room, and at the back there was a door labelled with "PLAYGROUND" in black letters.

Upon seeing my sister by herself in the corner, I excused myself from Karoline's little group and went straight over to her.

Her eyes lit right up when she saw me and she held her arms out to me. Her hands were red from how hard and how long she must have been scrubbing them, but that was hardly something I felt to be concerned about. I fell into a sitting position in her lap and she hugged me tightly as if she was afraid she would lose me if she let go.

"Ryan...I missed you so much..." Her voice shook and was barely audible.

"I missed you, too, Carmine," I responded in an equally quiet voice. "You were always on my mind."

"...Ryan?"

"Mhm?"

"Why were you sent here?"

Oh, of all things, why did she have to ask that? She was the very last person I wanted to find out about my cutting problem, let alone attempted suicide. I took a deep breath and hoped she wouldn't get too angry about what I was about to tell her.

4: Chapter Four
Chapter Four

"I...I kinda tried to kill myself..."

My voice came out in sort of a choked-up raspy whisper sort of thing. It hurt to admit something like that to the one who always told me to bend but never ever break.

Carmine's reaction, however, strayed far from my expectations.

She ran her fingers through my hair several times, whispering things like "Oh, my poor, poor baby brother," and "It's all going to be okay now." She didn't seem to be infuriated, ashamed, or disgusted. She only comforted me without breaking me down, making it clear how disappointed she was in me, lecturing me about how I should have been so much stronger than I was, or anything negative.

"Why are you being so nice about this...?" I asked. Surely she genuinely was angry at me, but she wasn't showing it at all.

"It hurts me to know my little brother is hurting so much," Carmine said. "I never stopped thinking of you, never stopped wanting to hold you, but I never wanted you to be sent here."

Her complicated vocabulary had fallen right out the window. It was something I always thought I hated, but I missed it so much now.

Her usual vocabulary, lectures, quick intelligent replies, and sharp wits were things I had always cursed, but they were the things that made Carmine herself. Now that they had seemed to drop, she didn't seem to be quite the same.

Just as I opened my mouth to speak, Carmine put a finger over my lips. "Hush, don't talk."

She carefully rolled up my sleeves, rubbing my arms gently with her cold hands. It felt much like a honeyed blade—painful yet soothing at the same time. It hurt when she touched the unhealed cuts, but knowing it was her icy touch rubbing them, it made them feel better.

"I-I'm so sorry," I whimpered. I felt like I should have had to say it to her, and it's all I really could say.

Carmine pushed my sleeves back down. "Don't be, please." She wiped my eyes and I realized that I has started crying.

"But I...I—"

"Shh. It's not your fault." She cradled me like she did when I was younger. I buried my face in her shoulder and sobbed. She rubbed my back and quietly sang one of the songs she had written for me before she was sent off to this awful place.

Carmine eventually sat me upright and stood up. "I'm sorry, but I have to excuse myself due to my advanced therapy session."

I didn't want her to leave now, but I tossed that thought aside, telling myself that that was very selfish of me. She needed this for her health, not because she entirely wanted to. There was a look in her eyes that made it clear she wanted to stay with me longer.

I nodded, reluctantly saying, "All right. It was nice seeing you."

She turned and left, and I watched her leave. I felt helpless and alone at that point. I hated this feeling it and cursed everything that had ever caused me to experience it.

I sat and moped with my knees hugged against my chest until I hear my name being called.

"Ryan!"

I looked up to see Mary standing a few feet away from me.

"Oh, you poor thing! I resigned from the game as soon as Patricia told me you were over here by yourself!"

Why did she have to bring up her girlfriend? It made it so hard not to start crying again. Half of me wished she could spend the rest of her life with her precious Patricia and never have to feel the pain that would come with learning that she was never real, but the other half wished she would get her heart broken by her lover and then realize that she never existed to begin with.

"You looked so happy when you saw Carmine. Do you have a thing for her or something like that?"

"I might," I responded dully, "if she wasn't my sister."

"You're siblings? That's so cool, you being able to be together here. It's better than dealing with this alone." She glanced in the direction I assumed Patricia must have been and smiled. "I'm grateful to have someone as close as my sweet girlfriend to go through all this with."

She isn't there, Mary!

I wanted to scream that. I wanted to scream that so badly, but I bit the inside of my cheek to make sure I didn't.

"We all need someone, though," she continued. "A girlfriend, boyfriend, best friend, sibling... We all just need someone by our side who is going to support us through everything."

I shrugged. "I guess so. I always just tried to accept and like myself. That's what my teachers and guidance counselors always said. 'If you can't like and accept yourself, no one else will.'"

Mary gasped and her eyes widened a bit. "But that's backwards thinking!" She shook her head in disbelief. "How can you learn to like yourself if no one else does? It's so much easier to find good qualities in other people than it is to find them in yourself. If everyone else hates you, you aren't able to see your good qualities because you don't see anything there to like."

"Guess that's why I failed." I shrugged again. "And I guess that's why my entire life fell apart in the process of my failure, too."

Mary smiled sadly. "That must have been so awful." She came closer and sat down next to me. "I've only ever done this once to a boy, back in first grade, so I'm not really used to it, but you seem nice enough."

She cupped my face in her hands and kissed me for about three or four seconds. I felt a harsh flush unfold across my cheeks and I looked down at the floor. That was my first kiss.

If my friend Jack was to ever find out about this, he would point out just how ironic it was.

Mary just sat there, smiling. "Did you like that?"

I nodded, not really able to find my voice.

What the neighbor girl always said about boys overreacting too much and too often? I wasn't overreacting.