Trouble maker

Chapter 10.

I remember how it all started. Instead of Demi driving me to my house she drove us to the airport. She told me we were going on vacation to New York. Stupid me to believe her.

I didn't realize it when they said gate five was the way to get to Chicago. I didn't notice we walked through gate five. I wish I noticed. I wish I fucking noticed.

When we got off the plane I knew we weren't in New York. This was Midway airport.

I remember asking why we were in Chicago. She told me it was a connecting flight and we had eight hours to do whatever we want.

She had someone drive us to the middle of nowhere, only trees. She told me she was taking me to some waterpark. I can't believe I believed her. I forgot Chicago weather wasn't as hot as California weather in Spring.

We pulled up to Timberline Knolls and I looked at Demi like she was crazy.

They opened the trunk and took my luggage out and Demi grabbed my hand pulling me in.

"It's for your own good." She whispered turning around to look at me.

I shook my head. Tears were stinging my eyes. She can't be doing this.

"I wanna go home." I whined.

"You need this." She smiled.

"Guess what? I'm not some crazy drug addict like you were!" I shouted.

Demi shook her head. "We found empty alcohol bottles in your room honey. You need help." With that she left me.

In the cafeteria I ate all my food, no matter how much I wanted to puke. Straight after I went to my room and cried and soon fell asleep. That's when I woke up now and my room mate, Tori, is complaining to me about if I do this every night she's going to report me.

The next morning the doctors told me in a meeting that I have depression, an eating disorder, anxiety, and residual- type schizophrenia. I ended up crying realizing most of the stuff I saw growing up was fake. That those kids at school never tried to push me off a cliff and they never called me names. I hallucinated the whole thing. Apparently Dallas doesn't have a dog Emily. It's all because after my surgery I had an episode of schizophrenia. Probably why I failed English eighth grade because all we did was speeches and I had disorganized speech. They said that I would go through episodes once in a while and they would last about six months- two years. I haven't had my last one since last year. It lasted six months of me acting crazy and seeing weird things such as a dog named Emily.

I ate all my food the next days and took my pills to stop any outbursts. I get my own room now but the room has a camera in it. To supervise me.

My doctors ended up telling me after those six months of thinking about having a dog named Emily, Dallas got an exact replica of what I saw and named her Emily. Makes me feel a little less crazy.

I also found out that if I continue with the good work with my eating and anxiety I'll leave by the end of the month.

I told them I tried to drink away my problems before. I was in eighth grade and it was after graduation. Two years later I'm still so embarrassed and I left them under my bed. Now that I think about I kept some other personal stuff under my bed like my diary from seventh grade and some other things. Why was Demi digging under there?

My favorite nurse named Lucy gave me a blue sparkly journal to write in. So today I'm going to write my first entry.

April 25th, 2036 9:37 pm.
I HATE DEMI. You heard me. She's a monster. She's the reason I'm the freak I am. If she would have let me live with her maybe I wouldn't have schizophrenia. Now that I think about it, I was born with all of my mental illnesses. They just didn't start acting up until a dramatic event happened in my life. Crazy huh?

It's my turn to pull the weeds in the morning so I'm going to bed. Goodnight.

Same day 3:12 am.
I woke up from a nightmare that was true.

I was laying in bed. I was twelve years old and I heard my parents fighting down stairs. I then heard something that sounded like glass shattering and I bolted up, curious on what's going on.

I saw Rosie peeking her head out of her room looking to see what's happening down stairs. She warned me to go in my room and lock my door. I thought she was crazy.

I crept down the stairs and was able to hear the fighting clearly.

"You broke my grandma's mirror from 1912." Mom whispered.

"Well if you weren't such a.." Dad slurred and then bang.

I saw dad fall to the ground and I gasped loud enough for the both of them to hear. Mom looked into my eyes. They were telling me to run but I couldn't move.

Dad grabbed me and threw me over his shoulder and brought me to his room. He stripped me naked and grabbed his broken bottle off the shelf. He went to lock the door and started hitting and scraping it against my skin. Hitting me in every place possible.

Mom was screaming from the hall telling him to stop. I didn't cry. This isn't the first time he's hit me before while I was naked. He's done way worst. But this is the worst time of beating.

He kicked the door to shut mom up and then kicked me in my private part causing me to yelp.

"You want to scream little girl?" He smirked.

I closed my eyes. I knew what was going to happen. He's never done it before. He pushed me on the bed and laid me on my back.

He grabbed something and started whipping my back. I heard a belt hit the floor and then hit my butt. I didn't dare make a peep.

"This is why you don't disrespect your family." He yelled.

I didn't even do anything wrong though?

I heard the door slam open. I opened my eyes to find myself completely dressed sitting on the bed while dad was punching me many times. None of that happened.

Mom told me to go after she slapped me. To think she was there to save me.

After writing this journal entry I realize my hallucinations have been around a very long time. How come it's now someone is taking action, after many years of suffering?
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I'm getting better at updating?!?