Fate part 1

He bent down to look me in the eyes, and I was seven years old again.

The man in the lab coat was coming towards me and I hid behind my mother. “And who is this, I wonder?” he asked in a calm kind voice.

“Izabella Green,” I squeaked and he smiled at me.

“What a pretty name.”

“Thank you.”

“I’m Dr. Mac. Izabella?” his face want serious then. Cold and dark. “Do you know why you’re here?” I shook my head, no. “Well, you’re here because of the voices.”

“The Unseen?”  He looked up at my mother and she nodded. “Yes Izabella, the ‘unseen’.”

“Why?”

“Don’t be worried child. It will be all right; you just stay here a few nights and then go home. Like a camp, don’t you like camp?”

“No.”

“No? Why not?” I didn’t answer. The voices were one thing but the “people” were different. “Well that’s ok. You’ll have fun.”

A nurse starter to take me away but I clung to my mother.

“It’s ok child she will be back in just a few days.”

 He lied. My mother left me there in the Bluewood Mental Institution and ever looked back. And here I was, age sixteen, a danger to myself and others… so they said. And there was Dr. Mac, here for his monthly visit.

“What is your name?” He spoke the question clearly and sternly.

“You know if I work at it, I could become the next Houdini.” He looked at me confused. “I mean, I’ve already got the strait jacket.” I smiled and he shook his head.

“What is your name?”

I looked around the room. “I wonder how many rooms there are.”

“Forty- two. Now pay attention.”

“Really?” I shrugged, “Thought there were more.”

“Izabella! Pay attention! What is your name?”

“You just said it.” He groaned. “You know you’re really bad at this.”

“Why? Why you? Why Me?”

“Luck?” I smiled and he stormed out. “Nice to see you too, Mac!” I hollered at him.

I looked at the guard standing on the other side of the room, “Must suck workin’ here.” He shrugged.

“Mac might let you have more freedom if you weren’t such an ass to him.”

“Someone has to be. I’m not going to break just because some god damn smart ass thinks he’s in charge of me.”

“Give it up Izy!” he shouted at me and clenched his fists, “He is in charge! He has power! Don’t ruin your life just because of your own pride!” and with that he left. I didn’t know who he was, but he treated me like a real person. He talked to me and not about me. He also called me Izy. Not her. Not it. Not even Izabella. He called me Izy, and I didn’t even know who he was.

“Hello! I’m still back here!” I sighed and looked down at my feet. “You forgot to chain me again!” at that I heard muffled orders and the guard came back in with his shoulders slumped.

“Hello again.” He turned to me and in a blinding flash, I was on the ground. My cheek stung and my eyes watered. I looked up at him and he backed away. Sitting by the wall, his head in his hands.

“Why? Why do you have to do that?” he didn’t look up at me but I knew it was me he was asking. “Why do you have to point out their mistakes? Show them reasons to chain you?”

I shook my head and he stood. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He helped me up and I stared at him.

“What?”

“Y…you apologized.” I stared at him, “To me. You said you were sorry.”

“Well of course. It was uncalled for and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“But why? No one has ever apologized to me.”

He stared at me now, his green eyes shining, “Never?”

“Your new here aren’t you?” he nodded. I shrugged my hair back over my shoulder and lifter my chin, giving him a good view of the scratches, bruises, and finger prints on my neck. “I have lived here almost my entire life, and no one has ever apologized to me for anything. Never.”

His fingers reached up and touched me neck, tracing a hand print and I flinched at his touch. “Who did this to you?”

I laughed, “Every man I’ve ever met.”

“Haven’t you told Mac?” I shrugged out of his reach.

“Who do you think ordered it? I know Mac is in charge. I know he has power. That is why I act this way. ‘A danger to myself and others.’ I have other scars, all over my body. I have been chained, beaten, even whipped. But I will not break, ok? I am not weak!” that was it. My legs couldn’t hold me anymore and I collapsed into a pile of chains, hair, and tears.

I flinched away when a hand touched my shoulder. Noticing who it was I fell backwards, burying my face in the green eyed guard’s shoulder, I cried. When I realized what I had just done I began to pull away, but not before strong arms curled around my body. Holding me tight, “I’m sorry, Izabella. I really am. I didn’t know.’

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Damon. My name is Damon.”

“Thank you, Damon. For everything.”