When Barbie Takes Over

52- Crazy

Okay, this is the last chapter. All that is left now is the epilogue. So let me know what you thought of this one and please vote! And I actually wrote this in a bit of a daze (a different type though) so it kind of seems distant. 

Chapter Fifty- Two:

Crazy:

I heard voices around me, but none of them really registered. There could have been two people in the room with me, or thirty. I couldn’t tell either way. What I did know is that I didn’t want any of them there with me.

They kept trying to talk to me. Or at least I think they were. I kept getting tapped on the shoulder and hands shoved in my face, but I didn’t really take notice of them. I was worried about other things.

Like the fact that I had nearly walked off the roof of my own home not even half an hour ago. Yeah, that was kind of something to be worried about.

Who does that? Just climbs out the window to follow what is probably just an imaginary line off the edge of the roof? Only crazy people, like really crazy people, do that sort of thing; even think about that sort of thing.

But if I was crazy that would explain so much. Like the fact that I found so many things wrong with Alice and Maddy’s obsessed with Barbies. That was only normal for a pair of six year olds, so why I had I thought it was so strange?

And probably no one else saw the things I did, they probably just agreed with me about everything because I’m the older one, I’m supposed to be right about these sorts of things.

The girls didn’t even need to go to therapy, it was me that was crazy, not them. They were innocent in this whole thing.

But do crazy people know they’re crazy? Don’t they think they’re normal? So if I think I’m crazy, does that mean I’m crazy? Or does it mean I’m something else completely? Is there step above crazy? Because that’s probably what I am.

Insane maybe?

I was broken from my daze when a pair of soft lips landed on mine. I was frozen in my spot, but my brain slowed down and came to a complete step.

“You there now Pigtails?” Garrett asked softly, his insanely large brown eyes close to mine.

“Mm,” I said noncommittally.

“Come on baby, I need you say more than that,” Garrett said. The fact that he called me ‘baby’ instead of ‘pigtails’ barely registered to in my head.

I stayed silent and slowly lowered my head a fraction. I didn’t want to look at Garrett’s big caring eyes. How could he care about someone as clearly insane as I was?

Garrett rested the bridge of his nose against my forehead. “Come on baby, I need you to talk to me. Tell me you’re alright, just say something! Please!” Garrett’s voice cracked on the last word.

I wanted to talk to him, but I didn’t know what I could say.

After a moment Garrett sighed and gave my forehead a long kiss before standing up.

I raised my head slowly as he walked away. He didn’t leave. He just crossed the room to the adjacent couch and sank down onto it. He leaned forwards and rested his head in his hands, not once looking at me.

The couch shifted next to me and I moved my head just enough to see it was Dad.

“Bridget?” he asked. I gave him a small nod to show him I was listening. “How are you feeling sweetie?”

“I…” My voice came out surprisingly thick and rough. I coughed at the back of my throat and tried again. “I don’t know,” I said softly.