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I haven’t been feeling great lately. The exhaustion is beginning to get to me. And sleep, let’s just say I’m never sure if it’s what I want or not.  More so what falling into sleep will lead to. Things are a toss-up every night, even more so with how Zach's been staying over more often. Instead of wondering if my sleep will bring a nightmare or not, I have to wonder if my waking nights will too now.

The only nights now that I do enjoy are those with Peter, but I never know when those will be anymore. They’ve been becoming fewer and fewer recently. So, instead of wondering and hoping, I’ve been staying up late instead. I’ve found that those are the nights when my worries don’t come true.

If I’m not asleep, then bad things can’t happen.

At the piano, my fingers trail the keys I remember them being placed before. I don’t know a whole lot about the piano, but I do know enough to play. We were taught how to read music and the keys in choir, so I’ve been using what I know to try and help me play the song stuck in my head. I get a few notes right and write them down in my journal.

The cushion compresses next to me, and I look to see a familiar smile.

Connor.

His smile falters not even a second later before his words tell me why.

“Hey, you don’t look so hot.”

I try to play it off before going back to playing the keys I know.

“Well, I guess it’s good I have such a lovely personality then.”

Laughing to himself, he bumps me in the shoulder.

“You have more than that, but you know that’s not what I was referring to. Have you not been sleeping well?”

A, G, A, G?

Nope, that doesn’t sound right.

“No, I haven’t been. Kind of been up late reading. You know me.”

It was a black key he showed me, so maybe G#?

“What book is it this time?”

Yep, that’s right.

The one good thing about the lack of sleep I’ve gotten is that I have noticed my mind a little less jumbled. Almost like the exhaustion makes it harder to have a hundred thoughts at once.

What is the next key?

“It was the second in the series I was reading the other day. I finished it, but have to wait until the third is returned before I can read it. Kind of sucks, what am I supposed to lose myself into now?”

I think it’s E.

“You could always call me if you need a distraction.”

“Or, not. I get it if you don’t want to.”

His tone changes with his second statement as he places his fingers on the lower keys. The subtle shift is enough to tell me that it’s Jackson now with me. Taking a glance at him, the change in his posture and inability to keep eye contact anymore tells me even more that that is the case.

“Well, I guess I’ll be calling you tonight then.”

He begins to play, and it’s reminiscent of the keys Peter played. He showed me, or I guess more so Iris, what to play before playing his own part alongside mine.

I really hate this!

‘Why? You get to see things from someone else’s eyes. That’s pretty cool.’

Yeah, and wish he was mine. Wishing that their childhood was mine too…

It’s unfair!

‘Calm down. He’s going to think you’re crazy.’

But I am, isn’t that the point? We all are here.

Wanting to laugh at that conclusion, it’s what I do best instead of letting myself break down.

Jackson seems to notice my frustration and shuts down.

“Hey, are good, Mads?”

Connor’s the one who calls me that, and now I begin to hate myself for not keeping it together. Again.

‘Good job, it looks like he didn’t feel safe. You’re his best friend and he can’t feel safe around you. That’s pretty screwed up.’

“You’re so stuck on wishing someone you’ve never even met was your friend that you’re neglecting the one right with you.”

I hate the whispers, his whispers, but he’s right.

Good job!

‘Don’t give in to his taunts.’

Okay, maybe I can fix this.

I take a breath and decide to let him know what’s up. I don’t like being iced out, so I don’t want to do the same to them. Especially since they’re the only ones I truly trust with what’s in my head.

With everybody else I either feel like a burden or paranoid that they’ll use it against me. I know I can trust Jackson and them. We’re in the same mess, each with our own issues, but similar enough to understand and not be weighed down too much by the other. Going through something like this, it has a way of both threatening to break you and give you the strength to push you forward.

At least most of us…. 

Having someone by your side experiencing the same nightmare gives you strength all the much more. It gives you a reason to take that next step. If not for yourself, at least to help them keep moving forward. They give you a reason to keep living.

Dependency isn’t all that bad. At least I can trust them.

‘Are you sure you can?’

‘Careful.’

It’s fine. I can trust them.

“I’m sorry, I’m just sick of it. Not you, never you. Please, don’t ever think that I’m sick of you, okay?”

I can feel him settling down and being Jackson again.

“Okay. What are you sick of then?”

Another deep breath to help me calm down, I begin to dump on him. Making sure to keep it a whisper in case anyone else overhears and I have to get evaluated again. I’m apparently high-risk even though I haven’t done anything to deserve the title.

Well, nothing they know of.

There’s a reason I keep everything in my head.

Maybe somehow they know that?

Can they read minds?

‘You’re getting delusional. Of course they can’t.’

I know, but what’s worse is all that they teach us is something normal people would see as delusional, yet it’s real.

‘Ha! It’s like we’re in some kind of fantasy world.’

I know, and that’s what scares me. What else could be true that they’re not telling us?

‘Plenty.’

“You know that you can’t trust them, Darling”

It’s not like they would hold anything back right? Of course they can trust the ones they’re experimenting on. How do we even know that they aren’t the reason we see and hear what we do?’

We don’t!

‘Gifted, more like screwed with.’

“Mads?”

His voice is the final push to spill over all the more. To share more than I probably should, but it’s too late. I’ve already dissociated to the point I no longer care.

“I’m sick of this place, I’m sick of feeling crazy, I’m sick of seeing things and hearing those stupid voices. I’m sick of wishing I had the life I dream of. That I wasn’t watching through someone else eyes, but that it was mine. I hate that my mother left me here, in this life without a care to turn back and take me away from it. Honestly, you guys are the only thing good about all of this. Sometimes I wish I could just take the shot and leave here, forgetting all of this for good, and finally moving on from this insanity.”

“Madison, don’t say that, ever! Do you hear me? If they catch even a whiff that that’s what you want, they’ll do it.”

Irritated with his words, I know he’s only trying to say this because he cares, but many times Alder has a way of getting under my skin.

I have plenty of people telling me what to do, I don’t need him doing it too.

‘Then tell him that!’

I want to vent about things without worrying someone is going to make me feel like everything said is something that is detrimental and my thoughts are proof that I’m going to do something I would never do!

‘You shouldn’t feel that way.’

I know! This is why I don’t trust others.

‘You shouldn’t.’

‘You’d be able to trust Peter, though.’

The real one…

Yeah.

“I know you don’t mean it. Honestly, sometimes I feel the same. If not for the fact that it would leave me alone without Alder, Connor, and… And forget you, I would too.”

Looking at Jackson, I no longer feel as alone anymore. I feel seen and heard in the way I was needing. A slow sheepish grin comes over his face which tells me that he now is being scolded the way I just was.

“Yeah, I think you two are crazy, but I get it. Alder’s ranting now though, but it’s fine.”

Something’s a bit off now. I almost assume that it’s Connor speaking, but I don’t think it is.

Who then?

“Come on though, I’ll get the lower notes while you get the higher ones.”

“Okay, but I don’t know much yet, I’m still learning.”

Turning myself back to the keys, we begin to play again. This time I don’t feel as torn about it.

“Who’s been teaching you?”

I’m hesitant before telling him. He’s the only one who knows the exactivity of my dreams besides the doctors.

“Peter.”

“Well, I hope he doesn’t mind me taking over then.”

Being light about it, it has to be someone new talking to me. He seems a bit more mature than Connor, bolder than Jackson, and definitely more lighthearted than Alder. They almost remind me of Jackson’s older brother, but softer.

What did they do to you, Jackson?

I don’t question him about it now.

There are too many ears here.

‘And it’s not like you’ll remember even if you did say something.’

Maybe I can make a coded message for myself like before.

“Here, try getting these notes down next.”

Leaning in close to me, he plays out the next few keys. I get nervous with him being so close, but not in the way I do with others. It’s more the way I feel when reading scenes like this in a book. Where feelings spark something warm and nervous inside that makes you want more. A feeling that grows more intense the longer you let it stay. A feeling I imagine is what falling in love is like.

I glance up at Jackson for a moment and realize something I didn’t before.

He looks different.

I’m not sure when it originally happened or for how long that has been the case. He no longer looks the same way he did when we first met. No longer like the boy I originally knew. It’s a shift that I’m not sure was truly on his side, or if it’s something that’s happened to me.