misfits · calum hood

day five

day five - conversations

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Cierra,
I am driving myself insane.

That's all I could write. My hand suddenly felt shaky. The words jumbled around the sheet of paper, my eye sight becoming blurry. I blinked many times to try to get my eye sight back to normal, but it wouldn't. I gave up and threw my pencil down on the desk, my vision still blurry.

As if on cue, my head started to pound also. It was one of those migraines I always use to get - and they weren't fun. I momentarily forgot that I was in a hospital, and I stumbled into the bathroom to find some Tylenol. At home, that's where I always kept all my pills - especially my suicide pills.

I walked into the bathroom, feeling around the counter for my pill bottles. My brain finally started to work and it clicked - that I was in a mental hospital and there weren't going to be bottles of pills laying around.

I groaned and threw my head in my hands, trying to get the pain in my head to stop. It didn't work, and I felt like ripping all my hair out and banging my head against the fucking ugly pastel walls.

Even with my blurry vision, I could still make myself out in the dirty mirror. My skin was pale - I had always been pale, but even more pale than usual. The bags under my eyes were showing, from lack of sleep and crying. Was it really me that I was looking at? I looked like a ghost, inhuman. Maybe I wasn't even a human. I was a monster.

That's what I was. Nothing more than a monster. I haunted, I torchered, I killed. And the scary part was the only person I was doing these things to was myself.

I haunted myself, with my own thoughts. Vicky, you're fat. Vicky, you're ugly. Vicky, you don't deserve to live. I torchered myself, making myself believe these things. And last, I killed. Killed myself. I was dead on the inside. Only the monster inside me remained.

And it got to me. The scars on my skin prove that. I looked down at them, the ones slowly fading away. It made me sad; they were going away. I wanted them to stay. It just made me want to add more scars to my collection.

By that point I was going insane. I couldn't even be sure what was going on - my head was throbbing, the voices inside my head were telling me things. Interesting things. I listened to them, sitting in the corner of the bathroom.

Vicky, you're a nutcase. You're in a mental hospital for fuck's sake. But no one can help you. Not Steph, not a doctor, not even Calum. Because you don't even deserve to live anyway. You're a screwup.

I nodded my head as if in agreement with myself, if that makes any sense. You couldn't blame me - I had no recollection of what was even going on.

My head was still hurting but I was in a daze. You might of thought that it was a peaceful kind of daze - like falling asleep in a meadow or some shit;or like one of those 60's movies with the hippies and peace signs. But let me tell you, it was nothing like that. It was almost like a scene out of Paranormal Activity - black figures swirling everywhere, voices coming from every direction, the room slowly turning into blackness. The last thing I heard was someone screaming - and the scary thing was, it was myself.

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I woke up in my bed, which was strange, because the last thing I remember was sitting on the bathroom floor. I slowly open my eyes, sitting up. As soon as I did so, the pain in my head started again. I looked around to see three figures standing beside my bed - Stephanie, and two doctors.

Steph looked relieved when she saw me wake up, but concerned as well. The doctors seemed the same. Was it really that bad? I couldn't even remember half of what happened.

I suddenly broke down, hot tears running down my cheeks. I really am a nutcase, it was proven by what had just taken place. Whatever went on this morning now had two doctors in the room and a worried Steph. I couldn't help myself from crying. I had tried to make a resolution to stop
crying here - it didn't work out so well.

I cried and cried, sobbing into my hands. My stomach kept churning and my head would not stop throbbing - I wanted to be home, or actually, any where but here. Not locked up in a mental institution.

The doctors took concern to my crying - asking me what was wrong. I just shook my head; how could I know what was wrong if I wasn't even sure what happened?

Steph was almost like a mind-reader so quietly, she said "I came out of the shower to find you passed out on the bathroom floor, I panicked and called the doctors. Shit, Vicky, I was so scared, I didn't know what to do." I could see the pain in her eyes and it just made me even more sad. I had scared her, my friend, it just made me upset.

The doctors gave me some Tylenol and water, letting me calm down. It didn't help much so I cried again, feeling so lost.

"Is there anything we can do?" the one doctor asked. I had not learned either of their names - it was not my biggest concern right now. "You could talk to your doctor, or we could even call your parents and you could talk to them, or-"

"Calum," I choked out. "Just let me talk to Calum."

I'm not sure why I wanted to talk to that boy - I just felt like he would understand, and he wouldn't judge me.

The doctors looked at each other, whispered a few things, and then nodded at me. They told me to stand up so I did, wiping my eyes clean as I did. They lead me out of our room and down the hallway, to a small room. It was tiny, and white, and consisted of a few chairs. It seemed like one of those places for people who were really messed up - who needed confinement and spent their lives in small, white rooms and blue pajamas.

I sat their quietly as I waited for them to get Calum, looking down at my shoes. Ten minutes felt like two hours; it seemed like forever. Finally, the door creaked open, and Calum peaked through the door.

"Vicky?" he asked, shuffling through the doorway. "Is everything okay?"

He sat down in the chair across from me, as I shook my head with a sad smile on my face.

"Why, what's wrong?" he asked, touching our feet together that were covered by our shoes.

"Just, everything," I sighed, tapping my fingers on my thigh.

He gave me a questioning look, but one that also said "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

And I gave him a look that said "Of course I'm going to tell you, I did ask to talk to you."

He laughed, and it was a weird way of communicating. Like we could understand each other by simply looking at one another.

So I told him what I remembered, and pieced things together from what Steph had told me. Calum watched me as I spoke - I could feel his eyes watching me. It wasn't creepy, no - he was just interested.

After I was done, I felt like crying again. But I didn't want to cry in front of Calum.

"It's okay, Vick," Cal said, brushing his fingertips against mine slightly before pulling his hand away. "It's not like anybody here will judge you."

That was true; there were people here who's problems were much worse than mine.

"It's just-" I stopped, thinking of the right words to say. "I'm a monster. I'm killing myself, day by day." I whisper, looking off at the white floor.

"The mental hospital thing isn't helping the situation, either," I chuckle, playing with the hem of my shirt.

"Well," Cal said, looking me directly in the eyes, "that's why we're planning an escape, yeah?"

I smiled and nodded. "And then we'll run away, far away. We'll go somewhere fun. Like maybe Disney World! Or New York! Or..well, I don't know, but we'll decide when we get out. Oh! Or we could just take a road trip to everywhere!"

I chuckled as the boy rambled on about all the places we could go, using many hand gestures. Saying all the things we could do outside of here just made me more anxious to get out.

"Or," I said, interupting him talking about travelling to Alaska, "we could go to my house, order a pizza or two, watch a movie as we cuddle in a blanket fort." I blushed as I realized I mentioned cuddling, but it went away quickly realizing touching someone again wouldn't be so bad.

He smirked at me playfully, tapping his shoe against mine. "Sounds good," he commited to my idea, nodding his head.

We talk some more, getting off the topic of my panic attack / migraine / horror movie scene becomes reality.

"Oh!" Calum realized something, perking up in his seat. "There's a new boy!"

That sparked some interest - a new boy. I wished I had got to meet him, but I guessed I would be meeting him sooner or later.

"Who?" I questioned, interested to know more.

"Well, I don't know his name, and I haven't seem him yet; but I've heard things about him. He just checked in this morning. And he didn't cry! Everybody cries when they check in, trust me. But, anyway, he's room-mates with Jimmy - Lord help him - and Jim gave us the scoop. He's tall, he wears alot of black? His hair is like a skunk - don't ask, Jimmy's words - but backwards? I'm excited to meet him, to be honest, because we don't have many guys on the floor."

I was also excited to meet the kid - he sounded interesting. In a weird way.

Calum and I sat in silence for awhile, but it wasn't awkward silence. It was peaceful. Calming. Cleared the air.

"Calum?" I said, breaking the silence.
"Mhm?"

"I just, it sucks. Being like me. Like us. I don't know. I just feel like such a misfit sometimes." I sighed.



"We're all misfits here,"


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is it too early omg

oh well

that line is the inspiration for the name of this story!! go calum!!! woot woot!!!!!

and wow new boy i wonder who it is ((you can guess in the comments but tbh i think we all know am i right))

and this chapter is really bizarre idk

you're all beautiful, ily alot - molly x