Welcome To Your So Called Insanity - Hugs.And.Kisses (best novels for beginners TXT) 📗
- Author: Hugs.And.Kisses
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Chapter 1
It Begins: The Towers
After Life, comes Death. Before Death, there is Life. There is no in between. Life and Death are defined by clear lines.
But what if the line between the Living and the Dead was blurred?
That, dear readers, is what we are here to find out. For the line was blurred one stormy Halloween with the birth of one girl.
Her name is Aubrey Peterson, later to be known as Aubrey Skellington, and in the distant future, as the ruler of Halloween Town, her name changing once more. But our story begins long before our Pumpkin Princess was royalty, when her heart still beat with every breath she took. This story begins while Aubrey still walks in the land of the living, when nightmares filled her sleep with terror and monsters taunted her from the shadows.
And so, it begins…
November 1, 2000; 11:31 p.m.
Rachel Peterson woke up to screams that had grown all too familiar over the past five years. "Mom, Aubrey's doing it again!" Her fourteen-year-old son Ryan yelled. Rachel threw her covers back and slipped out of her bed, her hand wrapping around a bottle of pills on her nightstand. She opened it as she ran down the hall, stopping at the door of her youngest daughter's bedroom.
Her oldest children were in there already, pinning a much smaller figure to the single bed.
This figure was their eight year old sister, Aubrey, who was thrashing in her older siblings' grip like she was having a seizure, her mouth screaming out incoherent words. The shattered remains of a lamp lay strewn across the opposite corner, a headless doll lying in the middle of the mess.
Rachel dumped two of the pills into her hand and forced them into Aubrey's mouth, covering it until she felt her daughter swallow.
A minute ticked by. The screams grew quieter and quieter until they were silent, and the violent thrashing gradually decreased into nothing. Aubrey was asleep again. Emily looked over at her mother, her blonde hair pulled back with the headband she slept in, a light perspiration dotting her forehead. Her soft features were worried. "Aubrey's going to be all right now, isn't she?"
Rachel nodded, hugging Emily and Ryan. "She's just sleeping now." She kissed the top of both her children's heads. "You two get back to sleep." They both nodded and walked off to their separate rooms. With a sigh, Rachel walked back to her room and sat down at her computer desk. Her finger hovered over the power switch before she pushed it in.
Once it was on, she opened her e-mail and began scanning the list. She double clicked on one whose subject read 'Aubrey'.
'Rachel,
I've been going over our sessions for hours and I still can't tell you why Aubrey is experiencing these nightmares. The hypnosis therapy still seems to be holding up, and she seems to be doing well at school and at home. I don't want to jump to conclusions, but we may need to have a serious talk later.
Jenny'
Rachel quickly looked at the time sent. 11:27 p.m. She moved the mouse over the 'reply' button and clicked. Quickly, she typed out a reply.
'Jenny,
She just had another one. The pills are working, but I think she's starting to build up a resistance. I've had to start using two instead of one. I'm starting to get really worried. What if the therapy is wearing thin?
Rachel'
She folded her hands nervously on her lap, staring at the screen. She looked up as a 'ping!' sounded from her speakers. She opened the e-mail, her hands shaking.
'I'll set up an appointment for tomorrow. We'll talk afterwards.'
Rachel shut off her computer and shoved her chair away from her desk. Lying down on her bed, she closed her eyes and tried to get to sleep. But alas, it eluded her. She was too worried about what was going to happen the next day. Talking to her daughter's psychiatrist, best friend or not, never brought good news.
November 2, 2000; 1:03 p.m.
Aubrey walked into Jenny's office, shutting the door behind her with a quiet 'click.' Jenny looked up from her laptop. "Hello Aubrey."
"Hi." Aubrey walked over and sat down on the cushioned, wooden chair in front of Jenny's desk.
Jenny smiled at her, flashing a bright, slightly crooked smile. "I'll be done in just a second. Too much paperwork." Aubrey nodded and sat back in her chair, studying the face of the woman in front of her. Jenny had a cute, cherub-like face framed by dark, wavy amber hair falling from the cute, high resting ponytail on the top of her head. Wide, violet-blue eyes sat above a small, cute nose and cute, pouty lips. All in all, Jenny had a cute face with the body of a pro-athlete.
But she was a therapist. Why? Because it paid better, and caused less sweating.
"So," Aubrey blinked, realizing that her session had started, and started to pay attention, "How is everyone?"
Aubrey shifted in her chair. "Ryan made three touchdowns in his last football game."
"That's nice. And Emily?"
"I... I think she has a violin recital in a couple of weeks. I've been hearing her practice for at least a month."
Jenny smiled at her. "You must be excited about that."
Aubrey nodded. "I like hearing Emily play. She's really good."
Jenny folded her hands and rested her chin on them. "And what about you, Aubrey? Have you done any more drawings?"
Aubrey's gaze drifted to the floor. Jenny put her hand down on her desk and leant across it slightly. "Aubrey, I asked you a question. I'd like an answer." A mumbled reply. "Eye contact, please."
Aubrey raised her eyes from the floor and back to Jenny's face. "My mom took my sketchbook away. She said my pictures were 'disturbing'."
"I'll see what I can do about getting it back. How about you go get something to eat from the cafeteria while I talk to your mom?"
"Nn'kay." Aubrey slid out of her chair and walked out the door. "Mom, can I have a couple of dollars?" Rachel nodded and pulled three dollars out of her purse. Aubrey took them with quick thanks, and her mother walked into Jenny's office.
"So?" Rachel asked, sitting down.
"Well, for one thing, you shouldn't have taken Aubrey's sketchbook away."
Rachel reached into her purse and pulled out a drawing pad with a black cover, 'Aubrey's Sketchbook' written across the front in surprisingly neat handwriting. "Have you seen what she draws, Jenny?"
Jenny reached over and took the book from her. "Yes. They're almost professional quality." She began flipping through the pages, stopping on the last one.
"I realize that, but they terrify me! And has she told you about the doll?"
Jenny arched an eyebrow curiously. "The doll?"
Rachel buried her face in her hands. "I bought her a new doll for her birthday. Yesterday morning, she cut its head off. She said it was for the monster under her bed. She's sleeping with a headless doll, Jenny!"
"Did you take if from her?"
Rachel looked across the desk at her best friend from between her fingers. "No. It was gone this morning. She said the monster wanted the rest."
Jenny closed Aubrey's sketchbook with a sigh. "Rachel… look, I don't know any other way to say this. I believe Aubrey has a mental illness called psychosis dementia."
Rachel took her head out of her hands. "You think she's insane?"
"I think that it would be best for everyone if you had her… institutionalized."
Rachel stared at her, shocked. "You want me to send my daughter, my eight-year-old daughter, in an asylum?"
"There are children's hospitals that can help with these things, Rachel. If you don't commit Aubrey now, it may get worse when she's older. There may be no way to cure it. Catching it early is the best way."
Rachel bit her lip, tears coming to her eyes. "God… Jenny, I can't…"
"Rachel, I know a good place. They've got the some of the best doctors around. They'll take good care of Aubrey, I promise."
"How am I going to afford it?"
"I can sponsor her. And…" Jenny bit her lip. "And if, after they examine her, they declare her clinically insane, then no one will have to pay for it."
Rachel grabbed a tissue and blew her nose. After a moment, she looked up. "I… alright. Alright, I'll do it. What do I have to do?"
Jenny smiled at Rachel sympathetically and grabbed three papers off of her desk, handing them over the desk. "Just fill these out. I have to make a phone call."
November 5, 2000; 8:57 a.m.
"Mom, why are we here?" Emily asked, tugging on Rachel's shirt as they climbed out of the car.
Ryan smirked at her. "It's a nuthouse."
Rachel shushed him. "Ryan!" She looked down at Aubrey, who was clutching her sketchbook to her chest. "Come on sweetie." She offered Aubrey her hand. Aubrey looked at it like it was going to bite her. "Emily, could you…?"
Emily walked over and took Aubrey's hand. Rachel sighed, walking toward the clear doors at the building's entrance.
Emily held Aubrey's hand tighter as Rachel walked over to the desk at the front. "I'm here to see Dr. McIntire."
The receptionist looked up. "Do you have an appointment?"
"Yes, it should be under Rachel Peterson."
The sound of clicking filled the room for a minute. "Ah, yes. Dr. McIntire is expecting you. His office is just around the corner."
"Thank you." Rachel walked off, leaving Ryan, Emily, and Aubrey to follow her. "Dr. McIntire?" She asked, stepping into his office. The man at the desk was around thirty years old, with black hair that was pulled back into a ponytail that rested against the nape of his neck. Muscles that showed that he clearly worked out, and often, covered his arms, showing through his coat. He had a square jaw and statuesque features.
"Ah, you must be Rachel Peterson." He stood up, offering her his hand. He was at least six four, maybe six five. "Welcome to The Towers."
Rachel nodded. "Thank you." She shook his hand, up to her wrist disappearing in his grip.
He released her hand and turned to the three kids. "And you must be Aubrey." He smiled at her. She shrunk away, behind Emily. He laughed. "Don't worry, I don't bite."
Aubrey smiled a little, and her eyes drifted to a shadowed corner. Her expression turned to one of fear and she slid a little farther behind Emily.
Dr. McIntire raised an eyebrow and straightened back up. "Why don't I give you the tour?"
Rachel nodded. "That would be nice." They walked out of the office and turned down the hall, heading away from the receptionist's desk.
"Aubrey will be staying on the second floor with one of my other patients, Sandra Williams." Dr. McIntire told them. "The first floor is where the staff offices are, and the patients who require twenty-four hour care or who have greater needs." He nodded to a thin boy being pushed around in a wheelchair by a woman in a nurse's uniform. His
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