Touch; Ticci Toby X Reader

C. 06

Y/N, with stiff movements, held her hand to the window. Her eyes not once leaving the dead creature in front of her. So close yet so far because of the wall, the window.

She fears she will never be set free, even by death.

***

They put her medication into her food, every day. She had refused to take it before, now they were forced to do so.

When Y/N doesn't eat for a day, the medication wears off. This makes her disorders worse. Her panic, her nightmares if she can even fall asleep, everything. Not that it wasn't already bad enough. She began to realize medicine only helps for so long.

She hasn't eaten in three days. The food goes down the toilet to make it look like she was eating. She can't find the will to eat, something is holding her back from doing so. She doesn't know why but she just doesn't want to. She never had the appetite.

It's always been like that. She doesn't know of anything going on with her or around her. It wasn't that she was clueless, she just couldn't understand why she was the one suffering while everybody else was out of the walls being happy.

It wasn't fair.

She clawed at her arms hopelessly, trying to cleanse her mind that wouldn't stop spinning with memories that played over and over again like a broken recorder stuck on repeat.

She shouldn't be doing this to herself. But she can't help it, she finds herself feeling satisfied with the pain she puts herself through. It proves she is still alive, that she is human.

Y/N wraps her blanket around her shoulders until she is cocooned in the tremors that won't stop terrorizing her mind and body. She is horrified by the lack of self-control, she can't keep herself still. She needs to move.

Y/N distracts herself, her eyes wandering to the window where she presses her hand. The pressure she is creating would make you think that the window would shatter into millions of tiny shards. Just for a minute, for a second, she wanted to feel the cold air outside embracing her.

The dead bird was gone. She thinks the man got rid of it.

The man, he's here again. His hand is pressed against hers from the other side suddenly. Even through the window, her skin was scorching and she inhales so fast her lungs almost collapsed.

She is colliding currents of confusion, so desperate to be so close, yet so desperate to be far away. She doesn't know how to move her hand, all has slipped her mind and her senses have fallen deaf from the weight and need of something out of her reach.

The inside of her thaws and becomes warm at the thought of coming so close to touching another living person. She doesn't want to be in human contact with the doctors, Joanne...anybody.

Just him. This stranger that has been visiting her for the past two weeks or so. She doesn't even know his name or his intentions or his personality or his view of the world or even if he has ever done any wrong in the world or just him as a whole. She was just so certain, that this man could maybe free her. Not from the institution, but free her from her own mind just for a while.

Her eyes flutter fast until they fall closed, she decided the only thing she wants to do is freeze his hand on the other side of the glass. That's all she would need to have just a bit of a break.

It takes every broken fragment in her being to pull away her hand. She does because if she doesn't she will lose herself and take his presence for granted then suddenly one day he will be gone and she will be left broken more alone than ever. That day where he stops showing up could be tomorrow or a week from now. She wouldn't know until it happened.

Y/N only looks him in the eyes when she flops down on her bed that was only springs with fabric covering it. Her blanket still wrapped tightly around her body.

His hand slowly slides down the window, disappearing from her sight. His eyes burning desire into her leaving invisible imprints on her skin. Just a touch would be okay, yet it was impossible.

The faint burning in her arms reminds her that they were bleeding from her nails puncturing her skin.

She rises up from her bed, keeping her blanket around her as she stumbles across the floor. Her bare feet clenching at the reassuring coldness soaking into her skin.

Once at her sink, the blanket falls on the floor. The faucet is running and she splashed water on her bleeding arms, she lets drops soak into her gown that has been washed so many times with the shower water that it was rough as a burlap sack. Her blanket, not in the best condition yet not as bad as her gown.

Her arms were now only bleeding small beads from the swollen, red scratches all over her already scar-covered arms.

Her scars were much more light compared to the rest of her skin, pink scar tissue curled around the most recent ones. Her scars were very bulbous, protruding out from the rest of her skin. She hates them, yet she wouldn't wish to part from them. Her scars were almost like a treasure that she hated but couldn't bring herself to rid of if she could anyway.

Y/N almost trips over her blanket when she turns around, she bends over and picks it up.

She lays back down on her bed, facing her window with the man still there and slowly falls asleep.

***

She takes out her notebook and pen from inside of her pillowcase. Opens to the newest page. Touched the tip of the pen to the paper, ready to pour out her emotions and thoughts. She thinks of her writing as more of a therapy session once in a while. It keeps her mostly in check, it helps her empty the bottle she has filled with negativity and feels refreshed.

Her hand moves to write, but the door suddenly opens.

And Joanne steps inside.

Its too late for her to hide it, Joanne has already seen it. Her forehead is creased as she stares wearily at her.

"Y/N. What is that?"She leaves the door opened and slowly paces over as if she were a deer in headlights.

Fearing the worst, Y/N replies nicely as she could to the woman, "My notebook."

Joanne seems suddenly interested and sits on her bed while scanning the blank page she was about to write on.

"Hm..may I see?"

She shakes her head no, her answer so transparent to her. This notebook had all of her thoughts written down. If someone were to read it they would be able to see right through her and be able to decipher every word that runs through her head. It would be a nightmare.

"Why not?"Joanne inquiries. Y/N knew she didn't like her, at all. Maybe this was her way of messing around with her.

Y/N snatched her notebook from Joanne's sight with a noticeable sneer, "Fuck off."

Joanne fakes a pout, her brown hues filled with amusement."You don't want to be put in the padded room, do you? Hand it over. Now."

Y/N tightened her jaw but still refused. She knew what she was doing. Joanne was trying to make Y/N snap and hurt her so she could have her put into the padded room. This woman hated her guts, though the feeling was mutual.

Joanne tried to smile but it turned into an annoyed expression.

Her hand lounges at the notebook being held tightly in her hands. Y/N is startled, reacting partly on reflex and mostly out of annoyance.

Y/N kicks her in the face. Hard. Oops.