Bound To You: Marcus Volturi

Chapter 53: Reverse Roles

Flopping onto my bed I give a deep content sigh. My room here has always given me a sense of calm. Back at the children's home, there were numerous occasions when people just barged in or stole things when I wasn't around.

Here, this is my room. No one can rummage through it or steal things.

You stole from Liam's room.

I shiver, shaking away the pang of guilt, knowing Liam is metres away. But that's a perk as well; knowing if I'm afraid or if I have a nightmare, Mum and Dad are just down the hall and Liam is right next door.

Right now, with Liam on the mend and two loving parents taking care of us, there's only one thing bothering me and that's Marcus.
I know very well that if he hadn't killed Theresa I wouldn't be so pissed off and shaky right now.

Maybe I'm over dramatic and sensitive. Maybe I take things too harshly. I'm too angry and annoying and ill mannered and aggressive. Maybe it's just me. It's always me.
Marcus deserves better.

Deserves better, deserves better, better, better, better..

"Shut up!" I scream, throwing my pillow against the wall, aimed at nothing but the voices in my head like Liam. Maybe I'm turning like him.
"Stop it, stop it." I shake my head, smacking the side like there's a bee in my ear. I rush into the bathroom, sweat running down my body, clawing at my hair as the voices get louder.

Iditot. Aggressive. Childish. Ill mannered. Worthless. Too sensitive to be in the Volturi.

"NO I'M NOT!!!" I choke, screaming at myself furiously, the words like painful daggers in my chest. I peer in the mirror and see my reflection.

Wild bloodshot eyes, messed up shaggy hair, tears trailing down my face. I look crazy.

"Marcus, I need Marcus." I mutter to myself and as I stumble out of the bathroom, he's there, as if he read my mind, spread out on my bed, looking sad and guilty, and his expression reads concern when he sees my distraught face.

"Lee? Come here."
I lay my head in his lap and he rolls me over so I'm across my back, his hand dangling above me, ready to stroke my forehead. "Tell me what's wrong." He commands, his eyes bore into my mine.

"I...um.." I let out a shaky laugh before clamping my hand firmly over my mouth, knowing full well I sound like Liam.
"I'm hearing voices." I admit and his eyes widen, completely startled. He looks at me as if I just grew another head.
It would have been funny if I wasn't so afraid of it all.

"They tell me you deserve better. That I'm not good enough." I add softly, trailing away at the end because of his face. His mouth slightly open as if his jaw had dropped, his eyes wide and worrying. His expression pained.
Then he takes a deep breath and puts on a brave face. "It's alright, my sweet, I shall speak to Priest." He promises.
"Right now."

******************************

In the hospital ward of the building, I can hear Marcus and Priest arguing in the small office room which leads off from the dormitory. "I've told you, Master," says Priest, sauntering out of the room and over to my side. "If it was a mental illness I would have known already." He assures.

Marcus comes to my other side, so they're talking over my head. "I don't want any doubts on this, Priest. I want you to make absolutely sure!" He snarls, voice low. Priest merely blinks at him.

"Please calm yourself, Master.
These 'voices' are just side effects from her medication." Priest snaps.

"Medication?" Marcus's voice goes soft. "Yes. For mild depression." He answers. Marcus looks at me. "Why are you depressed, darling?" He strokes my head, tilting my chin and bringing my face to the light.
"It's been a rough week," I shrug.

"And I'm not depressed." I shoot a look at Priest. "I'm just a bit run down." I jump off the bed and head to the doorway.
"Where are you going, my darling?" Marcus calls after me. "McDonalds!" I shout over my shoulder and rush out to the gate.

Just as I step out into the street, Liam catches up with me. "Hey, twat-face!" He jogs up to my side, throwing on a tracksuit jacket. "I want McDonalds breakfast. I fancy a good bacon and egg mcmuffin." He hooks his arm through mine and we stroll through the street together.

"I heard voices earlier." I admit shyly, glancing at him for his reaction. He sighs and shakes his head, running his hand through his hair. "It's probably just stress." He assures. "I know. I just need some air to clear my head right now." I mumble.

I turn to him, unable to hold back any longer. "What's wrong with you, Liam?" I blurt quickly. He sighs at me, smiling. "I have schizophrenia."

"You hallucinate?" I ask, trying to keep my voice low. "Yeah. I see things that aren't real. I hear people and my brain tricks me into thinking that they're really there in front of me." He glances at me. "Do I sound crazy?" He checks nervously.

"You're not crazy." I assure, slinging my arm around his shoulders, but he sighs deeply. "It's my mother's fault. The upbringing I had. It made me fucked up." He spits harshly, then glances back up and smiles.

He holds open the door to McDonalds and he grabs a table. "Anything to go with your mcmuffin?"
"No," He calls back. "Wait! Maybe some fries!" He adds. "With barbequeue sauce!"

I smirk to myself as I head to the queue.

"Here we are." I dump the tray on our table and slide a straw into my Pepsi. He grabs his mcmuffin and devours it hungrily. "Slow down! You'll give yourself a stomach ache." I slap his shoulder gently, wary to stay away from his cuts on his arms.

"Best breakfast I've had in so long." He smiles happily.
We finish our food and clear our trays at the bins. Just as I head to the door, Liam calls after me.

"Lee? Should we wrap up a mcmuffin for Mum and Dad? I think they'd enjoy one."
"No, Liam." I smile.
"How about some fries? A pepsi? Maybe they'd like a Mcflurry?"

No Liam. No more McDonalds.