listen to glass hearts shattering , open!

[aarica lynn ward]

but you don't know what it's like
to wake up in the middle of the night

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aarica had woken up this morning in a bright mood, brighter than it had been in a while. it was one of the last days of august, her bedroom window was open and things were looking bright for a change. she quickly got out of bed, tucking her hair up. she quickly got dressed and headed to the mess hall for some breakfast, knowing if she didn't eat now she wouldn't eat til way later. today was looking okay, and for a bipolar, paranoid aarica, this was extremely good. she let out a content sigh as she finished her food, travelling alone.

the funny thing was, aarica pre-institution used to hate travelling alone. she couldn't do it, she always needed a companion. but when she got to blue river, she just couldn't be around anyone. she didn't know anyone, and she couldn't trust anyone. how was she supposed to be around people she couldn't trust? at any given moment they could hurt her, kill her-- she stopped thinking about this. in her disordered mind, this would just cause another episode.

she left the mess hall and began to walk along the dingy corridor, heading to the only place she knew she liked going in this stupid instution. the roof. well, the sun deck, rather. it was technically closed off to patients, but she didn't' give a shit. and no one had ever caught her yet. aarica arrived to the ceiling tile, conviently marked by a little lock on the left hand corner. the code was so easy to figure out -- 353. the area code or something, aarica couldn't remember. she looked around real quick, looking for anyone around, and grabbed a chair, typing in the pin and sliding open the tile. she quickly moved the chair back in it's spot after pulling down the small ladder, and then she hoisted her small 110pound body up the ladder and out of site. she was quick and quiet about all of this, and silently pulled up the ladder and closed the tile, arriving where she needed to be.

the roof was quite peaceful, and usually no one went up here during breakfast, so it was perfect for aarica. she normall just liked to look around at the rolling pastures outside the tall fence that kept the patients in like inmates. she was silent as she looked, careful to stay away from the edge of the rood. first, it could be dangerous and second, someone (like a warden) could see her from below. no, instead she just sat in the middle of the sun deck and looked at the sky, or the hills, and just thought about everything. she was trying to keep her thoughts positive, like about how good the food was this morning, in order to keep the bad thoughts, the voices, and all the negative things in her disordered mind.

she was not thinking of her parents, her latest foster family, the mistakes she made in her past, the cut marks on her wrists, anything like that. she was thinking how that cloud looked like a bunny.

but then she heard the latch to the institution open and she felt her heart race, her paranoia taking over. someone was coming and there was no where to run. she started to hyperventilate, fearing it was a warden or a nurse. she was rooted to the spot, staring at the opening in the floor where the secret hatch was.

scared of the thought of kissing razors.
this blood evacuation is telling me to cave in.[/i]

573

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[matthew ayer jones]

I've learned to live half alive

it took so long just to feel alright

Matthew's eyes stung when the morning sunlight poured into his room. Again he was without a night's sleep from last nights episode, they left him in his room screaming to be let out. Screaming for the satisfaction of anybody, but the nurses on that shift knew better. Most believed he was a lost cause, desperate for something from the world he once lived. They knew about his wonderful past, they know about the encounters with estranged males... but what they didn't know was what he was getting from a little birdie who would visit every week and give him his baby. The darling he treasured probably more than his own family at this point in time. He had shot up last night, the fourth time that week and this time his manic episode was something a little more harsh. "Are you going to let me out to eat!?

[/color] he screamed from his bed, where his arms were currently attached to, as were his feet.

A few of the nurses came in slowly, one with meds in her hand while the others slowly moved to the bed and gave Matt a small shot of something he refused to take by mouth. His throat let out a growl while they let him sit up after letting his arm's loose, but he was handed the pills and a small cup of water before he was aloud to move his feet. Without the water, the pills were down in his throat where they would sit for a few hours until he had to take them again. Tonight would be his final hit of meth before he'd have to wait a day to get more to last the week. Watching the nurses leave with mumbles, he tossed the cup of water off to the side of his room; the room was empty anyway, it didn't matter if there was water here and there.

He slowly made his way into the bathroom, resting his hips on the cold tile of the counter tops while his hands rolled through his hair while he examined the skin on his face and neck. Still perfect minus the few minor blemishes he got in the morning. Nothing was too bad, but he could tell that from his addiction, thing's were slowly going the way he hoped it wouldn't head to. He didn't want to loose the complexion, he didn't want to loose the beautiful hair on his head or the eye color that was once his mothers. Quickly brushing his hair and primping, Matt was quick to make it out of his room and towards the 'mess hall'. He wasn't hungry. Who would be hungry for cardboard? The only good stuff was when he could go talk to the cook when he wasn't being held down to his bed.

His leg's dragged him down the hall while he avoided nurses stations, he avoided rooms of the snitches, he avoided almost everyone to get to his normal morning location. He was quick to stop while his eyes moved up towards the ceiling tile which had the little keypad. Standing on his tiptoes he was quick to put in the three numbers before sinking back down. Matt's eyes moved around once more before pulling down the ladder and quickly climbing up. His hands were quick to pull the ladder back up as he got to the roof and finally was able to climb through with a swift pull of his arms. "Oh.. Shit, I didn't even realize someone was up he-"[/color] Matt paused seeing the girl, fear was in her eyes while he stood there in front of her though he didn't make a move towards her. What was wrong with her? Maybe she was a psycho escaped from a room and she was living up here away from everyone. No. That couldn't be true... everyone was crazy here.

".... Are... you alright?"[/color] his voice was mono-toned while he let his arms cross. He obviously wasn't a nurse or a doctor, but judging by his tired frame he wasn't new either. He had seen this girl around before, but he just couldn't place where. He just hoped he wasn't catching her doing something drastic.[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

[aarica lynn ward]

but you don't know what it's like
to wake up in the middle of the night

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as the form of the person entering the sun roof was completely visible, aarica's breathing only got more erratic, her vision becoming blurry and her head becoming light. it had been so long since she had one of her episodes, but she heard him speak, he was friendly, he wasn't going to hurt her. but those thoughts didn't soothe her, they just made her try to focus on the task at hand. she attempted to relax herself, like the psychiatrists here were always telling her to do. if it happens again, think of happy things. you are only paranoid; you only think things are going to happen, when in truth they won't. the words repeated themselves in her disordered head, trying to make sense.

it took a while, but finally aarica was okay. she was on her bottom, looking up into the face of a very tattooed, very skinny boy in front of her. she managed to take a couple of deep breaths and clear her lightheaded-ness to the point where she could function. "i'm...alright...," she said after a while, even though that was the opposite of true. she had seen this person around the hospital a few times. i mean, she'd been here for two years now. she basically knew all the people who were here for the whole time. plus, with the unmistakable amount of tattoos this person had, it was hard to not distinguish him from the others.

aarica managed to fold her legs into a crossed position, making herself more comfortable. her nerves and reflexes were on edge, though. she may know who this person was technically, but she didn't know a thing about him. and that meant he wasn't to me fully trusted. in any respect. she was completely paranoid, remember?

aarica bit her lip, staring at the thin boy. he looked like he should be older than her, but his weak and tired looking body made him look years older. if that made sense. she didn't quite know what to make of him, but her guard was up. it was always up. even though aarica didn't have anything to be afraid of, probably. well, she didn't know. no one knew if they were safe--and that was the exact problem she had. that day, the fateful day, the one that caused all this, was just a prime example. you never know when something completely dangerous was going to walk into your life and just fuck it all up.

so that's why aarica was the way she was. she couldn't help it.

scared of the thought of kissing razors.
this blood evacuation is telling me to cave in.[/i]

notes: this post really sucked,
sorry. xD
credit me for the coding and stuff and
pierce the veil for the lyrics. c:

424

[matthew ayer jones]

I've learned to live half alive

it took so long just to feel alright

Matt's tired eyes watched the girl in front of him, his body un-moving other than his foot kicked the tile shut behind him. He probably scared the poor girl out of her whits by coming up here so early in the morning, mainly because the only other person he knew came up here was one of the psychiatrists he would chat with. The man was very familiar with pot, probably too familiar with how to make certain types of joints or other such things. He only caught Matt once but it was a 'never let me catch you up here again' kind of thing. Basically an I wont tell if you don't tell. His eyes scanned the area slowly before sitting down a bit from her, his deep breathing signing she was startled by his presence... but he couldn't leave now. Not with people coming out of breakfast and others phasing in for round two. "Good to hear. I'm Matt."

[/color] his tone stayed flat while he watched her, occasionally he'd let his glance focus off towards the sky but it would slowly make it's way back to the female in front of him

She wasn't too bad looking, she just looked young compared to him. He had seen her around, but Matt just couldn't recall them ever talking. He couldn't recalling them paying any mind to each other.. then again, people had their own things to worry about. He had his own problems, and they had theirs. "Sorry if I scared you, I couldn't take eating the shit they call food this morning. I'd probably puke it back up,"[/color] he sighed heavily and let his arms rest on his knees which were pulled up against his chest. He could feel his ribs under the baggy shirt, the jeans he had on even had some slight bag to them from either extreme loss of weight or just over use. After all, Matt had only two chances in his years to visit family and actually get some clothes. They didn't realize it was really him.. every morning it was the same thing. Two pills of this, two pills of that, and boom... insta-couch potato. He didn't want to do anything but curl up and sleep.

He could remember making his sister cry after telling her to go away, he could remember his father yelling at him for not being 'part of the family' and after that it was a blur until the doctors managed to get him from the cops and back to the institute. Isolation never felt so good. " So someone else was able to make it up here without issue... you're the first for another patient,"[/color] he let his eyes drift shut, the want for meth slowly coming back even from hitting up last night. His eyes cracked open to slits while he looked over towards his left arm. The little inner elbow crease where tattoo's didn't exist. Bruises covered his abused veins, tiny prick marks called his name for more. A shiver coursed through his body while he thought of the needle, thought about having to shift it around to get the right spot. To get the right high.

What he wouldn't give for a hit right now, but he couldn't and wouldn't waste his final bit. His guest was due to show up tomorrow, his parents the day after. The only thing about the sleaze who gave him meth... didn't want money. He kept coming back for Matt and Matt only. His eyes never scoped out potential other customers, no, they tore Matt down until Matt would beg for meth. It made him break-down more than a few times. Seeing how low he would go for a drug that would kill him. Letting out a low gulp, his eyes moved back to the girl and opened slowly so he was fully watching her. "You look scared of me,"[/color] he chuckled quietly, though his mind screamed at him for even talking. He could have completely ignored her but if he hadn't had asked if she was okay... he was sure she wouldn't be. Just by the looks of her she looked like the air was knocked out of her; though he had to think, he was pretty intimidating after his morning dose. The mono-toned voice he just couldn't help but half, the eyes that were slightly hazed from his usage, tattoo's that depicted everything from sharks devouring things to pink bunnies. 'Oh yeah.. so intimidating Matt. badass with those bunnies,'[/color] his mind was sarcastic. The old Matt hidden away in the depth's of his brain.

What he wouldn't give to be back to normal. What he would do just to be that little kid again, spying on people. What he would give to actually have graduated high school and gotten out of that house before they could bring him somewhere. He should have suspected something when their dinner was quiet. He should have suspected something when his father stopped talking to him or when the fights between his mother and father picked up more and more. All about him. He let his orbs focus down on his shoes; he needed to get his mind off of his family. He wanted a conversation, even if was short. Anything to take his mind off the addiction, his sister, his love of the drug.

notes: i'm writing novels today. hope that was enough to go off of, i didn't help much in the other post.

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[aarica lynn ward]

but you don't know what it's like
to wake up in the middle of the night

[/i][/right][/font]

aarica could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move, making her feel rather nervous. the stare of him was almost stifling. she didn't like being watched, being evaluated, even if it was just someone casually glancing at her. her paranoia was spiked to the most extreme it had been in while. well the reasoning being aarica hadn't been around anyone in a while. she was used to travelling alone. not having anyone around made her feel okay, there was nothing to be scared of. but now that someone was around her, a stranger, aarica was the most nervous ever.

his name was matt. well that was okay, now at least she knew who he was. she let out a breath and nodded, finding her voice. "i'm aarica," she said breathlessly, her voice quiet and timid. every so often he would glance away and glance back. and that was nerve wracking to aarica. she wasn't aware that other people knew how to get up here... she figured she was the only one. she was, in a way, grateful for someone to talk to... but why couldn't it be the girl in the ward three down from her? at least aarica knew who that was. this was a boy; someone who could hurt her. aarica was pretty much terrified of guys after being raped so many years ago. just everything in her past was just unbearable to think of.

aarica tried to focus away from the bad things. this boy and her had never held a conversation before, from what she could remember. that's why he didn't look familiar, she reasoned. he spoke again, causing her to jump slightly, the silence having been broken so suddenly. "it's alright. i--i just didn't expect anyone up here. normally no one is." she bit her lip and nodded in agreement at the food comment. aarica knew the food here was no where as good as her food was back home, but she would rather eat it than starve. food was something important to aarica, she liked it alot. not like she was obsessed with it, but she couldn't just not eat. she was never anorexic.

after a moment of silence, matt spoke again. he looked as though he was deep in thought. aarica's body hadn't relaxed the whole time he'd sat near her, just feeling like she was next to someone foreign was very unsettling. the nerves, the panic attacks. this was aarica. she couldn't think of anything but and it wasn't healthy. that's why she was here, right? because she couldn't trust anyone, couldn't be near anyone. aarica finally remembered matt had spoken. "oh yeah. uh, i've been coming up here since i got here. one of the first places i enjoyed actually being here for. my... uh... friend told me the password." aarica didn't really know whether to call her mate from a couple wards down, but she was sort of like a friend, right? aarica noticed matt staring at his arm, but didn't know what to make of it. she placed her hands in her lap, still not comfortable of the new person talking to her.

a small breeze blew by, making her feel as though she was human. nature was so peaceful to her, and she loved it. but then she realized it had completely messed up her hair and felt a strike of anger. fucking nature. there was the bipolar, sort of. normally it was really good, but the medication aarica had taken this morning was controlling her anger, keeping her at a happy medium for the moment.

matt spoke again, and aarica didn't quite know what to say. tell him she had paranoia disorder? might as well. "i have type one paranoia disorder. and post-traumatic stress disorder, which caused it. i don't trust anyone. or like meeting new people. it's nothing personal, i just don't feel comfortable." she didn't really know how esle to explain it without just telling him her 'diagnostic label,' as her therapist put it. she didn't know if that was true, but she didn't know that's how she felt, all the time. she had to make sure everything was in it's place, nothing was missing, she needed to be alone. she hadn't had a boyfriend since before her parents died, and she didn't have any friends except that other girl. aarica had even forgotten her name. some friend.

but for a second, aarica was curious. what would it like to actually have a friend, become sort of close with someone? she couldn't do it right now... not when everything was so... fresh. it had only been two years. she took a deep breath and decided to at least make an effort. isn't that was the psychiatrists were always telling her? make an effort to get to know someone? she wasn't sure if she should, but she was going to try. "what they got you locked in here for?" she asked, making conversation. it was lame, but it got things started.

scared of the thought of kissing razors.
this blood evacuation is telling me to cave in.[/i]

notes: hope this is better than my last xD
credit me for the coding and stuff and
pierce the veil for the lyrics. c:

835

[matthew ayer jones]

I've learned to live half alive

it took so long just to feel alright

Matt's body trembled at the breeze picked up slowly; frail body, light skin, clammy hands, never a good mix when the wind picked up on the highest point of the building. His eyes moved away from aarica and moved up to part of the roof where it was sealed off with gates, barbed wire, and a few old strands of yellow tape. He remembered the jumper. She didn't make it far... fell, cracked her poor darling head off the side of the wall, THEN fell to her death. Great was to go out? Maybe. Humiliating? Well obviously. He let his eyes drift while he placed his palms over the opposite inner elbows, covering any of the scars or bruises that could be peeking through. The things that normally didn't match his tattoo's. "Nice to meet you,"

[/color] his tone changed slightly while he thought of his mother when he was young. 'Say your pleases and thank you's! be nice! introduce yourself!' maybe he wasn't crazy after all, maybe he was normal and that everyone else was just fucked up. 'Matthew, Matthew, Matthew... everyone in the world has problems, you just have more'[/color] the inner monologue again. Putting him down, again.

He kept his eyes low now while occasionally glancing to make sure she wasn't some nut-job, out to attack and kill him. Though it wouldn't be so bad it were to happen, they could make up some excuse on how he died. "You, one of the therapists, and me are the only people I know who come up here,"[/color] he started, but couldn't help but let out a sneer at this earlier reminder, "That wonderful therapist will usually let you take a drag or two off his doobie, then tell you get the fuck off the roof,"[/color] his eyes lit up thinking about the pot he had last week with the guy. He was sure it was laced. It made him fly, but not as high as meth. Never as high as meth. He let the peace and quite roll for a little bit. The occasional car driving up to the building made him curious... though he knew if any of his mop was showing over the edge, they were busted and he'd be put directly back into isolation.

Such a wonderful place. White walls, white bedding if any at all, white floors, and the smell of bleach. Matt wasn't the only one to get blood all over that room, Matt wasn't also the only one to manage the Houdini and break himself out of a straight jacket just to end up getting a nice slash across the under side of his arm from thrashing too hard. Most nurses hated his manic episodes; they'd range from intense rage to sheer will of wanting to screw ANYONE who touched his frame. Many times before has a security man called him a fag, but in the end occasionally gave up to the pleas and cries, the words Matt would let out just to get a little extra freedom. Some people were just that fucked up.

Letting his eyes stop on aarica again, he listened to her speak about her disorders and why she was here. Trying to explain herself he guessed and why she just looked like she was going to pass out. She would jump at him talking, she would shake when he watched her. Probably not a good thing that he stared down people; digging into someones soul is never easy. Specially if they're located in this place. He's had a few years of practice though. "Ahh.. now I see why you jump after the silence. I'm sorry. I'm sure I'd be worse if i wasn't on the wonder drug,"[/color] his voice was back to flat, it's what the drug did. It'd make it feel like you were floating, it'd make it wish you could just crawl into bed and sleep but it kept you up. Like caffeine pills. A smirk rose to his face while she asked why he was locked up, but it was better to not freak out the poor girl, he didn't need to spike up something from her past. He didn't know, so he couldn't risk it.

"I'm here for histrionic personality disorder, methamphetamine dependence and the manic episodes I occasionally have after hitting up,"[/color] the smirk stayed partially on his face while he leaned back on his sore wrists. He let his leg's stretch out so they could snap and loosen up. He glanced back down at his arms before looking up towards the sky with a short sigh. "Been locked up in here since I was seventeen, was court ordered to stay until my meth usage stops, and when my histrionic disorder can be controlled,"[/color] he snorted slightly and looked back down with slight hatred in his eyes, but nothing was directed towards her, his voice held a sort of venom as he spoke again, "I'm almost twenty-one, and they refuse to even let me visit home now."[/color]

He was missing his sister growing up, he was missing celebrating his parents birthdays. He missed the parties they would throw at the home when a promotion happened or good grades were received. He missed the freedom, driving, and most of all... the ability to hide his addictions. "So, enough about me really... how long have you been here? Anything you really hate or loathe yet?"[/color] he questioned; nothing was ever good or nice here. You either hated it, loathed it, or wanted to kill it.

notes: hope this helped (: I kept getting a little distracted, but I was able to get something out xD I think i rant too much.

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