PROLOGUE

Xavier MacKenzies office smells like grapes. Or maybe its because theres a whole tray of those purple, scrumptious fruits on his wooden table. Once I enter the room and close the door, the sound of the telephone isnt there anymore. The busy hallways, the people running through the building all noise is silenced, with nothing but his face greeting me. The first thing which startles me is how young his face looks. His glasses make him look older than he actually is, but at the same time, makes me realise hes younger than I expected. And the way his blond hair is heavy with disgusting gel makes me realise hes not many years older than me, if not the same age. Hello, Imogen. He points to the seat. Have a seat, please. Youre barely older than me! I want to yell, but every word in my vocabulary is silenced. Instead, I sit down without a word. Though Im sure hes younger than me, theres another part of my mentality which confirms hes older after all, psychologists are supposed to be older than me, right? How old are you? The words blurt out of my mouth, but I dont bother apologising. Instead, I stare at him. His expression shows uncomfortableness. Eighteen. Exactly. Youre only two years older than me. What makes you the boss? And thats when I lose it. Whatever my mother says about me being anti-social, dont listen to her! Okay? I have friends. Ive got Aria, my best friend; Emily, this girl whos sometimes nice and sometimes not; Justin, my boyfriend whos on some quest to accomplish his rock-star dream; and then theres Oliver. Just dont tell him were friends he kind of hates me. Something tells me friendship is a mutual process And something tells me your face is going to be split into two if you dont shut up. He purses his lips. I see what your mother means She doesnt even know me! Fine. Two years ago, I tried to kill myself my jumping off a bridge. Mums worried I might try to do it again. You know what? I hate it! I freaking hate this feeling that she doesnt even I stop at mid-sentence. What am I doing? Im pretty much exposing my whole life to him! This is exactly what he wants, and Im giving him the satisfaction unconditionally. Shouldnt there be at least the slightest bit of mystery to one psychologists patient? The worst part is, everything Ive admitted is the whole truth. Now, not only does this Xavier guy know most things about my personal life, he can blackmail me with them. Or even worse, he can assume were friends and interfere with my life. I dont need anybody. Nobody should budge into my life. Excuse me, I say, standing up and walking towards the door.

Out. Thats the only way I can continue to breathe. I need to exit this haunting room, with the signs and the whiteness. This room which makes me feel dizzy and abnormal. There are patterns in the room, although I have the feeling theyre hallucinations. Things which arent there, but I seem to see anyway. Ever since Ive jumped off that bridge, Ive been feeling different presences. At one point, I thought there was a hole in my cup. There was another time where I saw tiny little men crawl up my bed, trying to gnaw flesh out of my body. But it doesnt mean Im abnormal. Abnormal. What a cold and heartless label to put on a simple, innocent being. Ill be meeting you tomorrow, says Xavier from behind. His voice is a monotone; no expression, humour, nothing. Whatever, I say as I exit the room. Finally, I can breathe. My heart is panging against my chest. Why does Mum have to worry about me so much? Cant she trust me enough to stay this way? And only I know about my hallucinations, but I have the feeling I may have thought aloud while she was around. Maybe she caught me talking to myself. This might not be a big deal if it wasnt for me trying to jump off that bridge. I sigh. How much I wish I never did that. Because its making people doubt everything I say. It doesnt matter if anything else happens, because Ill always know the truth. Only Im enough to understand what Im thinking on the inside. Im normal.

CHAPTER TWO
Aria and I stroll down the hallway, laughing about something Emily said. There's always that one person whos always quirky, and it's Emily. The Hats for Sharks campaign? Aria bursts out laughing. That girl is psycho! I giggle along with her, but only half-heartedly. Mainly because my mother signed me up with a psychologist to invade my privacy. And though this all happened yesterday, it still haunts me. The speech, how bluntly she told me I'd be spending my valuable time with a complete stranger. What normal mother does this to their beautiful daughter? Then again, what normal girl refers herself as "beautiful"? I feel like hitting something or somebody, but what good would that do? It'd just spread rumours about my unfair, hating attitude which spreads like a disease. Oliver Freckle scampers around the hallways, searching for cheese with that horribly-accurate nose of his. It makes me desperately want to hit him. After all, its not a crime if the world becomes a better place, right? Surely the police will forgive me just this once... Thanks to me, if I punch him, all cheese in this fascinating world will save itself. They will be yelling, "Mimi, Mimi! You're amazing! Even though we're not supposed to be talking to you, you're still our saviour. You rock!" With a grin spreading through my face, I say, Hey there, Olee-ver. He looks at me suspiciously, holding the block of cheese to his chest. What do you want, Mo? Ignoring the name he gave me as a nickname for "monster," I glare at him. Give me that block of cheese and nobody get hurt. Aria is behind me, her voice nervous as she says, Mimi, I dont think this is a good idea The smell of boys clothing fills the entire hallway, but then again, what else do I expect from a school promoting football so eagerly? Boys, of course. And then there are those complete idiots who guffaw their heart out at things us helpless girls do. But aren't I in charge of the "Post-Its"? My mother first heard about my position last year. I told her about how there's somebody -in this case, it'd be me- who goes around the school and places post-its on lockers. Personal, exposing and sometimes hateful. People hate me because of my position -the principal keeps out of my way, just in case I expose her jail-time for selling drugs three years ago. But life's better this way. I'm happy being hated by most people. Because by them being agitated and hateful towards me, I won't grow close to anybody. Even if I care about them the slightest. Pushing Oliver against the locker, Im ready to knock him out completely. But something grabs my wrist. Almost like a flexible ninja. Careful there, Imogen, the boy, I recognize as Xavier, says. You dont want me to lose my job, do you? Shocked, I fling back from him. Whatre you doing here?

He slams his shoulder against the locker, close to me. Im just your childhood friend, remember? His voice is soft and audible to nobody but me. Unless you want to express your insanity to the world. I feign a smile at him. Why, of course. My childhood friend, how are you? Childhood friend? Aria says with a gasp. At the same time, Oliver retorts, You have friends? Yes and yes. I glare at Oliver. Unless you want another post-it about your mother putting 'lunch messages' on your locker. Youre really mean, you know that, Imogen? I find myself facing a scowling Emily. The person who had made me laugh a couple of seconds ago is now lecturing me. Joy. I mean, you tell off some poor boy and then you dont look at Ivan Her eyes dart pointedly at a boy chewing gum and wearing a saggy black cloak. whos pretty asking for a negative post-it going his way! Oliver winks at Emily. Her face turns a bright red as she turns away and continues marching; possibly debating whether Martians or aliens are better. Aria looks thoughtful before declaring love between them, and how we shouldnt disrupt the process. I manage to contain a snort; that gives me more reason to break them apart. Before giving me one last stink-eye, the boy huffs before walking to his class. He begins walking the direction Emily has just left, trailing behind like lost puppy on a winters night. Hes doomed, Aria whispers. Why do you say that? Because his classrooms the other way. After he realises the mistake, both Aria and I have the satisfaction of watching him pat his pockets as if he forgot something. Then, casually, he strolls the other way and does the worst act of staring at the ground for something that doesnt exist. He truly is air-headed, isnt he? Im aware of Xavier standing beside me, his green eyes flashing behind the glasses in amusement. Since hes a psychologist, the case of Oliver Freckle must be the most strangest debut of the century. Anyhow. Imogen, do you mind if I have a chat with you? My mouth opens to protest, and the minute Aria makes smooching noises, I feel my hands clenching up into fists. Ready to attack her straight in her smug little face, which has always been so delicate. But instead, I contain my temper and force a smile on my face. Nodding my head, I amble out of the hallways behind him. But just before we exit the school buildings completely, I turn around to stick my tongue out at Aria. She sticks it right back at me, her eyes darting to the clock. We have a good half hour until classes begin. Right beside our high school is a narrow alleyway; a place students avoid in reaction of a lame ghost story. Apparently, some girl got beat up by a mob of giraffes in the eighteenth century and her voice still haunts the area. Although its completely insane, it somehow creates a tinge of fear in our scared pupils.

Which is why I become the knight in shining armour that they never wanted. Sure, maybe I'm considered as the harsh "Post-It-Queen," but it does make people avoid me. Which is perfect. I work better independently -without people weighing me down. Do you know why Im here? Lemme guess. Youre just another one of my psychology pals. I tug at his red tie, which almost contrasts to the white shirt he has. The school uniform looks shameful on him, and I feel the urge to rip off his clothing. Of course, this may give girls the wrong idea, as more rumours would spread. But guess what, Pal. Forget about whatever perverted thoughts you have racking in your brain, because Im not making out with you in front of cameras. I didnt even know what was an option. He fixes his glasses and pulls away form my grasp. The temptation to slap him across the face approaches me, but I dont take it. Instead, I calm myself down, let my hands relax and apologise. He just looks at me as if he won a million dollars when the word sorry escaped my lips. As he opens his mouth to make another annoying comment, I slap my hand over it, shooting him death glares. Thankfully, this boy isnt dense, as he holds in hands up in a surrendering position. Feeling rather conscious of my hand over his mouth literally touching him I pull away quickly. Arent you going to ask me why Im here? Youre some other psychologist whos enjoying torturing me because Mums giving you a lifetime of chocolate ice-cream? Surprisingly close. Your mum is offering me half a million dollars if I can get the sane version of you to appear. My heart flitters. Something snaps in my head as he says these words aloud, as if nothings wrong. But everything is incorrect. Mum recently got a check from the bank telling her she was completely broke. The fact shes that desperate offering something she doesnt have just to take care of my sanity is almost guilt-worthy. But of course, I dont tell Xavier this. What he doesnt know wont hurt him. After all, its not like Im keeping some axe-murder a secret. The thing Im hiding is none of his business at all. Whatre you going to do with all the money? Its for my little sister. His eyes are shining from behind his eyes, and I feel the urge to spray his eyes with something. Its unnatural for a human beings eyes to shine so many times, especially in the same day. She needs the money for her private school. That much money? Im not using it so fast. Most of the money will be saved up so she can do things in the future. In other words He drops to his knees, taking my hands without permission and gently holding. I need your help, Imogen. I pull away from him, ignoring the stares Im getting. I know exactly what the people, arriving to school, are thinking. Hey, isnt that Justins girlfriend? You know, the Justin whos out playing music around the world because of his amazing vocal skills?

What is she doing holding another mans hands? Is he, like, proposing to her? People are going to get the wrong idea. It looks like youre proposing to me! Exactly what I was going for. Now. Are you going to help me out, or should I hold your hand forever? Pulling my hand away, I manage to dodge his next strike for my hands. Okay. Whatever. What do you need help for? You need to make sure that you make my job as easy as possible. Act a little sane around people. I nod my head, knowing Im going to break the promise. The minute I made that vow, immediately it was realised I would never keep my word. After all, Im an awful person. People like me shouldnt exist in wonderful worlds like this one. Thank you. Whatever, I murmur. The bell rings as we race back to our classes. But I cant help a tinge of guilt biting away. I know Im going to have to break the promise; Mum doesnt have that much money to offer around. Shes probably just exaggerating because shes desperate for somebody to reveal the good side of me. But it doesn't matter, because my original thought remains unfazed. Im going to make his job as difficult as possible, even if its the last thing I do.

CHAPTER TWO
Xavier waves the hypnosis pendant in front of my eyes, swishing it back and forth. His eyes are piercing as they burn into mine, clouded with ultimate tension. This is never going to work, I tell him, not taking my eyes off the pendant. The whiteness of this room doesnt help my mental stage at all right now, I feel as if Im trapped in a room without doors nor windows. Perhaps this isnt supposed to psychologically impact me, but the blinding white of every object in the room (even the string of the hypnosis ring is white) makes me feel insecure. Crazy. If possible, I think my mental stage is getting worse. I catch Xavier rolling his eyes from under his glasses, lowering the pendant before muttering, Because its so easy to make Mimi more crazier than she already is, right? Death-glaring him, I say, Who said you could call me Mimi? Nobody. But in order to become your psychologist, I have to be your friend. Good luck with that. Youre never becoming my friend. His surprisingly full lips settle into a grimace. Youre really hard to please, you know that? I pretty much save your life and this is how your repay me. Guilt flashes through me at such an extent, I cant stop feeling sorry for him. He probably didnt want to save me; what good would saving a stranger do? But either way, he still did. He thinks I should be forever thankful to him, which I perhaps should be, but he doesnt understand how hard it is for me to owe something. My whole life was spent with people begging me for forgiveness, not vice versa. When my father left me at the young age of ten, he returned three months later and asked for forgiveness. Mum was a weakling she always thought him leaving me was the cause of my mental issues. And before I knew it, he disappeared. Out of sight. And Mum got more paranoid about my mental state. But she doesnt know me. Aria, no matter how much I pretend shes my best friend, doesnt know a thing about me not things which matter. Then theres Justin who I didnt realise existed until he told the whole school about his major crush on me. Which wasnt too big, because the things one exposes doesn't really matter. Only personal thoughts are kept inside a person's head. I would know this better than anybody else. So as I watch Xavier take off his glasses, Im surprised at how completely average he looks without them. I have no idea why, but his green eyes are now absolutely miniature compared to how enlarged they appeared when he was wearing the glasses. Almost like somebody grabbed his eyeballs, put them in shrinking liquid and popped them back inside. I shudder at my fearful description. Maybe I really do need help But for some reason, the click feeling I felt before has now returned. And theres something I realise: its the aura Xavier carries which makes him the only person Id even be close to telling about my life.

He rubs his eyes, yawning. Of course hed be tired, I think sympathetically. Imagine putting up with me. But hes not trying to help me for the sake of it: hes after and the money. The huge amount of money which my mother doesnt have. Ill have to pretend to be completely psycho if Im to prevent her from owing him. But why dont I just go up to Mum and explain the situation? Heck, she might even start to believe Im not insane. Why doesnt she understand that Dad leaving hasnt impacted my mind? At all. Personally, just because Im a little pushy and have my own language doesnt mean Im crazy. But from her eyes, its probably the only thing one imagines when seeing somebody like me. Its my personality which is the flaw. Maybe I should explain the situation to Xavier instead. Hell leave in disgust and never be able to look me in the eye, but anyway, arent I used to people leaving me? What about my father who left without any proper acknowledgement? Justin, with his band suddenly becoming an internet sensation and moving around the world without reminding me. Right now, I wouldnt be surprised if he slept with a million girls. This angers me. It angers me more than words can describe. Why am I here being so loyal to him while hes hooking up with a million girls behind my back? Calm down, Imogen. Youre being paranoid. But with his ridiculously good looks, would a girl be able to tempt? Perhaps Im not intimidated by beauty or handsomeness in a male, but Ive always been different. Normal, clich girls cant keep their hands off a gorgeous boy. Now that Justins officially a band-member, itll get more girls chasing after him. Just my luck. You seem really deep in thought. Xavier half-smiles, shrugging. Understandable. You dont have to tell me anything. I just want you to come to see me every week personally. He pauses. But well see a lot of each other, especially since Im going to the same school as you. This shocks me. I dont get it You want me to come to talk to you, but at the same time, you dont mind if I dont talk? Of course. I want you to trust me. Everything we discuss here is confidential. I laugh at this. As if I could ever trust you. You're holding your breath for something that'll never happen. I stand up. Ive gotta go. Have fun with your imaginary life. Before he can add anything else, Im out of the door. * Mo, you gonna pass me the salt? Theres Oliver Feckle, his eyes bored. He rests his head on the palm of his hand. Im sixteen years old, Mimi. Youre a freak-show for thinking Id be stupid enough to believe your name is Imogen Genevieve Vivian. He waves his hands around in exaggeration. How does that work? I shrug, passing him the salt. Were sitting in the cafeteria, all of us around a big table and feasting on everything possible. Aria is sitting next to me, taking another bite of her giant hot-dog. Emily arrives at our table and sits next to Oliver like she isnt completely in love with him. Taking a spoonful of her tomato soup, she disgusts everyone at the table by making heavy slurping sounds. All except Oliver, who gapes at her like shes a Goddess.

A lot of people have asked me why I hate Oliver so much. The truth is, I don't know. He's weird and quirky for stealing cheese all the time, but that's not the reason. When I look at him, I see somebody nobody else does. I see a lonely boy. Somebody who's just like me. But unlike me, he doesn't have parents sending him to psychologists. He doesn't have all his friends know about the "psycho" theories many people have about him. Nobody ever tells him what to do, how to act. He can move to his own beat. And I envy him for that. Maybe Mim's mum liked tongue twisters? suggests Xavier. Oh yes, there he is. Under the swooning of many girls around the school, all because of his uncalled-for proposal. Theres a rumour going around school he asked me out, but I was too heartbroken about Justin that I didnt agree. Pfft. As if I actually care about my so-called boyfriend. Aria stares at Xavier and simply shakes her head. Hey, you never know, he says defensively, not really doing a very good job. Internally, I wonder if Justin is thinking of me right now. It was peer-pressure which got us together. He opened his big, popular mouth and before I knew it, people were pointing at me and asking why I wasnt going out with him. It irritated me, being the hot-headed person I am, and I dated Justin. Only to make a point. Soon, people got the point and I wasnt in the spotlight anymore. My friends and I were accepted socially not that we werent accepted in first place but somehow, I didnt feel good. The opposite, actually, because I wasnt used to a girl-boy environment, coming from an all-girl primary school. There was too much attention towards me. This made me feel lost. And I still am in terms of what I should do. How should I settle things between us? I need Justin, as Im starting to realise, to have a little bit of sanity next to me. In a world where everything is changing, I dont want his attraction for me to ever fade. In no way, whatsoever. Sometimes, I act like a complete freak. People laugh at that and shake their heads. But do they realise how much it hurts to have everybody thinking Im mentally unstable? Even my own mother, for crying out loud, is recommending me to a psychologist. As I think through my life, it flashes before my eyes. I need Justin. No matter how little attention I paid to him before, I truly need him. Just to hold onto any sanity I have left. The bell rings and for some reason, my body picks itself up before I can protest. As I walk towards the lockers for fifth period, I gaze through my messy locker and pick out my cellphone. Its turned off, I think with a groan. Of course youd do that, Imogen. Youre the only one capable of doing such stupid things. My mobile always stays at school mainly because I hate mobile phones altogether, but bought one for emergencies. Theres no need for it to stay somewhere I dont need it. Ive got a normal phone at home, along with the internet for connecting with friends. Wheres the requirement for mobile phones? But its the only thing which Justin contacts. I never bothered to bring it home because of him. A while back, he wasnt any important to me than my father. Both who left me at my weak points my father when Mum was diagnosed with cancer, which she then survived and Justin when he left me when Mum had assumptions about my insanity. With my so-called boyfriend leaving me, of course Id be more stressed and lost.

Now, however, Im beginning to realise how much he means to me. Maybe it's a slight change of mind, but I realise how much I'm looking forward to getting him back. Back from his "quest" to express his vocal skills to the world. Maybe I'll just send him a quick message. Turning the cell-phone on, I scan through to his name. There are no incoming messages from him. Chance are, hes cheating on me with some beautiful brunette. But Im going to put up a fight; Im not losing. Im not letting Justin leave me like this, because I sure dont deserve it. Not at all. With shaking fingers, I slowly press on the numbers, careful not to make a mistake. I love you, Justin. Please come home. Mimi xx It doesn't matter if I don't mean the "I love you" part. What I don't mean can't hurt me. * That night, I stayed awake. The tension was building inside my head, refusing to let me sleep. Justin said he loved me a lot of times. Though I didnt believe it, I just smiled and told him the same words without meaning them. Just like I didn't mean it right then. But my biggest problem is, would this be considered a weakness? What if What if my sudden confession makes him realise the truth? Maybe hes one of those motivational people who strives for the impossible me saying those three words are quite close to it and then the motives fade? I wouldnt know. There was no record of him existing until a while ago. Deciding I cannot get a hint of sleep, I throw away my blankets and start up the computer. Logging into my email-account, I see an email from Justin. This makes butterflies form in my stomach. Why hadnt he texted me? He never emails unless hes talking seriously to a person. And for the first time, I didnt want him to be serious. All this time Ive been expecting him to become a little grown-up hes always been immature with big dreams. Heck, I even remember shaking my head in disgust at his dream to become a musician to tour the world. But now? Justins not famous not yet, anyway. But he will be. His voice is one of the best, along with his guitar-playing skills. I dont want him to be serious I want that boy who always chews on his long fringe and has a smile which can light up any town. But, unfortunately, I didnt get that version. Dear Imogen, Im sorry to be doing this over email. I honestly am. If there was any other way we could take things, everything would be so much simpler. But to be honest, Ive been thinking about this lately. About us.

My attraction towards you havent changed. Youre a wonderful girl, Mimi, but youre more of a friend than anything else. No, I havent cheated on you at all. Im not that kind of person, but you wouldnt know because you barely know me. Thats another problem we barely know each other. So all Im asking is that we give this us a break. Ive realised my dreams, what I really want to do. I want to sing for people and show the world who I am. And I want you to find somebody else. There are plenty of fish in the water. I dont want you to waste your time on somebody who will never to be harsh choose you over music. I am really sorry for putting this off for so long, but ever since I got the text, I realised how selfish I was being. I was leading you on when I didnt plan to have you in my life in first place. I couldnt let you love me when I dont contain the same feelings not anymore, anyway. I hope we can still be friends when I come back. And I truly am sorry. Justin P.S: I dont think you ever loved me in first place. You felt obligated to say it. It wont be too hard for you to move on, I promise. My hands are shaking. But for some reason, there is a wry smile placed on my lips as I shake my head. Transparent liquid starts trailing out of my eyes, which I wipe before anybody sees them. Not that anybody would enter my room in the middle of night, especially when Mum and her elephant-resembling snoring is taking place. Stubbornness was clouding my vision from seeing further into this situation, because I thought I finally had myself figured out. Everything was fixing together like a jigsaw puzzle, and I was starting to believe Justin knew who I am, despite only being attracted to me physically. But who am I kidding? Nobody could figure me out. Not even myself.

CHAPTER THREE
With my hands shaking, I march right up to Aria. She has her fingers wrapped around each other, making all kinds of different shapes with them. If it was any other situation, I may have just joined her. But this is no joining matter. Were sitting beside the pond and another day had passed. Four oclock, which is amazing because school went so slow, I thought it would go on forever. But it finally ended. Just like everything has an end; in my world, theres no such thing as forever. Things happen, people change or vice versa. Justin deserted me. Just with a hesitant, I dont think we should date anymore made my entire world crash down on top of me, like a striking earthquake. Did he realise, while he was writing that message, this would happen to me? How I would be comforted by Aria his supposed rival while he just tours the world? I dont love him; I never loved him. But its the whole idea of change which stings at my heart. Cuts me raw. Everything is changing so drastically, not giving me a chance to keep up. Nothing ever stays the same in my world. Nothing. He gave me a text message this morning, I say to Aria. He told me to tell you that trumpets are way better than clarinets. They always have the worst arguments friendly, yes, but completely lame and pointless. Aria rolls his eyes. So he breaks up with you and adds something goofy later on? She cant help smiling. Why does that sound so much like Justin? I blink. Theres something in her eyes as she says this. It makes me wonder does she like Justin? But I shake the thoughts out of my head. Impossible. Even if best friends are supposed to tell each other everything, admittedly, Aria and I arent that close. We barely talk at school because Im too busy with my high status as the school post-it queen just like shes occupied with proving Justin wrong. Speaking of responsibility, there is a whole dance which I need to organise. Sometimes I wonder why I accepted the role in first place. I cant relax. Smile. Breathe.

Its so much pressure, and at the same time, I cant imagine my life being on a straight line. Im used to so much change happening in my life, and yet, I overreact every-time another thing fades from the distance. I hate change. Its the thing eating away at my happiness and fleshing all my sorrow out in one giant pool. The quacking of the ducks interrupt me from the pond. As I gaze over to them, I cant help feeling how lucky they are. They dont have any change in their lives from the minute theyre born, all they do is quack and float around idly. Hey, she says in her assuring, calm voice. Why dont you talk to Xavier? She knows the truth about Xavier being my psychologist. The only one who I can trust enough to notify about my personal life is her and nobody else. Why is everything falling apart for me? Once upon a time, I wouldve just waved this off. Things like this dont hurt Imogen Vivian. So why do I feel like Im about to burst out in tears? But instead, not a drop escapes from my eyes. No, no, no. Imogen isnt the type of girl to cry. I wipe at my eyes and stand up. Thanks for being with me, Aria. I make a face. But I dont think Ill be talking to him anytime soon. Hes so You hardly know him, she interrupts before I can think up the right word. At all. My mouth opens as if Im about to speak, but I close it. Shes right. I cant find a proper fact about Xavier. Theyre all little things Ive picked up, but we never had a heart-to-heart conversation before. Maybe its about time I started trusting him But what about my mothers financial problems? Yesterday, when I talked to her, she admitted the lie shes planning on carrying out. Xavier will hate me if I dont help him get his sister into that boarding school. Speaking of which, why dont I earn the money? This strikes me as a brilliant idea. There was a job being offered around as somebody who gives out errands. Newspapers delivered to every house would be a very easy job to achieve, especially considering how I know every building and address in this small town. Yes. Inspiration. I will earn the money so Mum wont have to lie anymore and Xavier will get some money for his sister! Of course, this will put more pressure on myself more change to look forward to, yippee but itll be worth it. Just got an idea! I yell out excitedly. Aria buries her head in her hands. God help us. We all know what youre like when you have an idea.

Pretending not to hear her, I run straight to the shopping centre. There it is, the wooden pole with advertisements pinned all over it. I see people walking past me, rushing to head somewhere. Most of them completely ignore me, chattering to others and the sounds of footsteps grow larger. There are groups of teenagers smoking in the corner, an elderly couple discussing confidential things over coffee and middle-aged mothers clinging to their children. When I finally am in view of the pole, I take the number of the company and take out my cellphone. For once in my life, I brought it along with me; just so I could read previous text messages and pretend everythings okay. Everything between Justin and I are perfectly fine. Dialling the number confidently, I smile when a cheerful womans voice picks up. Hello, Im Imogen Vivian. I was wondering if I could apply for a job * You look awfully happy, says Xavier in a careful voice, putting his cup of coffee down. Who have you murdered this time? I frown. Clearly not impressed, I grab his glasses while he blinks a couple of times, trying to register the shock of not seeing. He reaches out blindly and waves his arms around, trying to feel for his spectacles but Im already laughing. Were in a caf, so the people surrounding us are exchanging weird looks before minding their own business. This shop was the perfect place to tell him the big news: I got the job! Of course, Ill just fake-it and tell him Mum doesnt allow me any pocket money this wont lead him towards the impression we cant afford his services. Would this be considered illegal? This kind of deceiving? Somehow, Im not searching for the answer to this question because it makes shivers run up my spine. I just got a job! Dont you get pocket-money? Its my turn to be careful. Nah, Mum believes in the earn-it-yourself method. Even though we have a lot of money. Just for good measures, I add quickly, A lot. Oh. Thats good. Another life has been spared by Imogen Vivian. My, I have taught you well. Youre the worst. But unlike the first time where I shouted at him for even thinking about making me his crazy-target, I smile. Oh great. Hes growing on me. Sooner or later, Ill be taking bullets and jumping in front of

trains for him. This scares me so much, I add an, And dont even think I forgive you for thinking Im mental. Im not insane. Or crazy. Or an overachiever. Im just myself. I love unicorns and one day, Ill command them to burn you down! I stand up, courageously folding my arms with a dangerous look flashing through my eyes. Xavier doesnt appear the slightest bit taken aback. This frightens me. And one by one, the beads of confidence which formed in my head disappears in a flash. Hes growing onto me. Oh, my goodness! No, no, no. I simply cant let somebody get close to me. Aria and I claim to be best friends, when in reality, were strangers. Thats why our friendship works. My mother and I hardly ever speak, and even if we do, its to muck around and joke about cows dying in electrical fences. Or maybe its just me who jokes about them, causing a hesitant laugh to escape through my mothers lips as she dials for another psychiatrist to try and fix me. Or maybe its a psychologist. One way or the other, shes concerned about my wellbeing. But thats another reason our relationship just works. We dont get into arguments at all rarely, in fact, and even if we do, its always calm and peaceful. Its always well-spoken not once have we ever had a heated, storming argument. Somehow, deep inside, I wish thatd change. For once I would like to be that girl in the movies who gets angry for no reason, only to feel more lucky to have her parents by her side afterwards. I never felt that luck. Nothing is ever felt by me. And then theres Justin. I barely knew him, and look at how much Im overacting since his departure. To think he was one of the few people I thought I didnt care about. So what if Xavier is the one who can change all that? Knowing that hes a psychologist is enough to make my teeth grit. Of course, hes going to take every possible route to try and get into my head. I feel foolish. Its been his goal all the time; obviously it has, because how else is he supposed to get the money for his beloved sister? Pursuing her education is the least he can do. But how come his parents dont pay for it? Hey, Xav, are your parents rich? Were. Were? Until they were buried six-feet underground. His words make my eyes widen, but he seems very bored with them. Like he had to explain them over and over a zillion times. He coughs. Sorry. I think Im making you a little

uncomfortable. I, uh how do I explain this? They died in a car crash because there was this truck driver who was drunk. He frowns. It happened in this very city. I was glad when they died, to tell you the truth. My eyebrows shoot upwards. But its mostly towards myself than whatever he has to offer.Why arent I scared of him? If this was Aria, I wouldve made sure to never look at her face again. This is Xavier. Somebody who Ive grown to trust so quickly. And Im hating every minute of this. How come? We were pretty much sold to our uncle. They wanted to travel the world and leave us behind, because we were never meant to be. Ah, it was heartbreaking seeing Quinn cry herself to sleep about how she doesnt have the perfect life. Dont get me wrong, they would come at Christmas every year with a lot of presents, but His eyes soften. Money cant buy everything. Right, Mimi? Of course, I say. Or, you just dont know where to shop. But it's okay, because I can show you the right places. His eyes flicker open in horror. Shopping? You? B-But youre not the kind of girl to shop! That was one of the reasons I agreed to take up this job in first place! His voice is closer to a wail than I ever thought possible. I grin. Guess you better quit, because this girl is the type to shop. My eyes widen in excitement. Why dont we just take a casual stroll down at the clothing section at BindysClothesForYou? Kill me now. At BindysClothesForYou, they have scented notepads in aisle three. Write your suicidal note there. This is for making me smile, Xavier. I hate you and your stupid, charming pride. There's another side to you -I know there's another side. And I will bring it out even if it's the last thing I do. As I take his arm and drag him around, laughing like a hyena, I catch the glimpses or judgemental people. They are all looking at me as I edge closer and closer to the shop. It makes me uncomfortable to think about how theyd assume Im torturing this poor boy. Im not the kind of person to do that. Awkwardness is the word to describe how theyd assume Im his mother, dragging a wailing boy along with me. But what really punches me is how they might assume were romantically involved with each other. I steal a quick glance at a bored and groaning Xavier. As if Im even capable of romantic feelings.

CHAPTER FOUR
Xavier eyes the shop with an expression of disgust. That expression is soon turned to me, as he shakes his head and purses his lips. Instead, I grab his hand and lead him through the girly fashions. A lot of girls stop and stare at us, startled by the appearance of a boy. Xavier simply smiles but it turns into a mangle on his face. And this alone causes me to realise I wont be on his good side any longer. Not that almost getting drowned was a good start to our friendship, or being completely bossy and horrific. And not that I was on his good side in first place. Imogen, I would understand it if you fed me to a swarm of sharks but this? He sighs. How low can you sink? Quite low, actually. Whenever we play limbo at school, Im always one of the finalists. I flick my hair innocently at his expression one which is able to make the coldest snowman melt in minutes. Why? Isnt that what you wanted to know? You disgust me. Anyway, is there anything here which isnt for complete losers? Everything is for complete losers. Why do you think I brought you here in first place? And with that thought hanging into the air, I sprint to my best ability. I hear puffing behind me and a croaky Xavier pleading for me to stop, but Imogen Vivian doesnt stop for anybody. Nobody. And all of a sudden, Im that Imogen who races through hallways at school, trying to get everybody and anybody in trouble. And once I catch them, I'd attach a post-it for the public to witness. If this was any other time, Id just lie to myself; Id tell myself I tell them off because I care about them. But, as Im realising and admitting the truth to myself right now, I dont care about them. For all I know, theyll be sprung away into a pool of sharks and Id take no notice. Because I dont care about my classmates. I want to be the leader. When I was still attending an all-girl's school back in primary, I was the geeky-and-unpopular girl, along with Aria. This year, however, everybody knows me. And I just roam the halls, waiting for somebody anybody to notice me. Im scared of being forgotten; of just being there, but not acknowledged. And I will do everything in my power to be acknowledges, even if it comes in the package deal of being hated by my peers.

Mimi? a voice calls. Glancing up, I see Arias face light up. The light vanishes into an expression of horror the minute she sees Xaviers face. You are one evil girl, you know? Please, dont flatter me. It was Xaviers idea to come here in first place. I see his finger spin in circles behind his head, indicating Im not quite right mentally. Using my heel, I slam it into his foot and watch him grit his teeth in pain. Wasnt it, Xavier? Yes, Master, he croaks out, bending down and wrapping his hands tenderly around his injured foot. You are absolutely right. Like always. Please dont hurt me. Drama queen, I mutter under my breath, but cant help beaming at the mention of master. If I could control what Id be called, Id rather master than Post-It-Queen-from-Hell. I gaze at Xavier with his bright green eyes and watch his shoulders rise and fall. Hes obviously waiting for me to exit the store and end his torture. I feel like standing up and merely screaming at him about how wimpy hes being, how he should toughen up because hes officially mypsychologist and once somebody becomes my psychologist, theres no turning back. But because I owe him big time, I need to make sure Im as nice as possible. He has a sister he loves very much, and itll be plain awful if Im bursting his bubble. Oh, Im sorry, Xavier. Turns out my mother was lying about the whole rich aspect. Yeah. That wouldnt end well. Itll just confirm I wont be saved the next time Im drowning. Sighing, I grab his clammy and exit the store. I wave goodbye to a startled Aria, but it doesnt take much longer to turn to her favourite clothing type shoes. My whole body stiffens at the thought. Shoes. Really? Shoes? Shaking the thoughts out of my head, I drag Xavier to a caf, purchasing a coffee and banana muffin before he can blink. I gobble down the food. He simply stares at me like Ive gone crazy. This makes me smile. Well, if I wasnt going crazy, he wouldnt be my psychologist, right? Again, I cant help thinking about my mother. Why does she think I need a psychologist? It stuns me. Sure, maybe Im a little fiery at times and sometimes extremely wacky and appear as if I need mental help. But surely my grip on reality isnt that bad, is it? Pursing my lips into a grimace, I slurp on the coffee slowly. So slowly, Im surprised my lips arent burning. You know, I have a better idea. How bout we just communicate using books? Its the first time hes spoken seriously, without a hint of mocking in his tone. Exercise books, I mean. Since Im never going to be your friend, I think this is the less He sucks in his breath, stealing a quick glance at the girly shops Painful option.

Might be the smartest thing youve ever said. I agree. Just write questions or whatever and leave them in my locker. Ill give you the combo. And Ill answer them, putting them in your locker. I shake my head. I have so much to do! I have to attend a party tomorrow, make paper planes for the second graders for You dont have to attend the party, you know? Stupid. When you have a reputation as high as mine, you have to go to things like that. Or else its, like, social suicide. The tips of his lips are quivering, and I know hes just itching for an opportunity to say something like, Your face is social suicide but somehow, he manages to control himself. Despite being so much higher than me in an academic ranking, I mustnt let myself forget hes merely a high-schooler. Underdeveloped, sometimes stupid, high-schooler. Which makes me wonder how he managed to become so higher in the academic range. He mustve bribed many people to be put up around three years older than he really is. Xavier? How old are you? Eighteen. Uh-huh. And youre working already? He smiles at me. Will you be able to keep a secret? Depends. Im not supposed to be working. Im still in university, studying my psychologist courses. But at the same time, I need to support my sister, so I need to make sure I earn some money, so when your mother randomly asks me to fix you, obviously Im taking the opportunity. So if I tell the university youre attending because you can skip out a lot in university and all a job like this one without qualifications, would it be illegal? The looks he gives me is legendary. Simply and utterly legendary. Its like hes a hungry rhino ready to attack several small sparrows or whatever little critters may get in his way. Perhaps if I wasnt feeling a jolt in my heart Id comment or rather, retort about how horrific he looks, perfect for a horror movie. But I keep my lips shut. Pursed. I know youre not my friend or anything, he says in a voice as cold as ice. But, please, dont. He doesnt have to explain what the dont stands for, because we both know exactly what it is.

I wont, I whisper, surprised by how quiet my voice is. Trust me. His eyes soften. Just guess Ill have to, wont I? * Imogen, What is your favourite colour? Why is your favourite colour? Would you choose any other colour? Whats your least favourite colour? The minute I find this note in my locker, I regret ever giving Xavier my locker combinations. Out of all the imbeciles and utterly hopeless people I see, hes possibly the saddest. Pathetically sad. Questions about colours are supposed to help me with my psychological issues? Well. Guess Ill have to show him how completely lunatic I really am. Maybe it'll drive him away and I'll have space for myself once more. Dear Xavier, My favourite colour: unicorns eating rainbows Why is it my favourite colour? Because butterflies are colourful Would you choose any colour? Thats like asking a mother to choose between her porcupine twins. Whats your least favourite colour? Grasshoppers scare me. I love you, Xavier! Xoxoxox Mimi Placing the note in his locker with a sly smile pasted on my face, I cant help wishing I could stick around. Just that I dont want to go to English. I want to stay right out here, watch his expression.

Only then do I see Oliver eating another chunk of cheese, the mouldy substance dripping through his fingers and making the hallways slippery. Uh-oh. I guess any teachers wearing high-heels would have a nice trip. But instead of telling him off, I gently touch his shoulder. Cheese actually tastes better with celery. His eyes widen. Really? Yup. My Grandmother makes it My voice catches right there. Something doesnt feel right. Something feels abnormal at the sound of my Grandmothers name, and I cant help feeling this deep pang beating on my chest like a drum. I shake the thoughts away. Avoiding them. Because thats all Ive been doing lately. Avoiding Justin, avoiding Aria, avoiding Xavier. Not letting anybody get close to me. Maybe I truly am crazy. Perhaps Ive got this kind of psychological issue where I cant open up to people. Im just scared. Just scared I wont be heard, but instead, Ill be mocked and laughed at. But worst of all, I dont want to see the pity in their eyes. I dont want my own mother to think her daughter is a psychopath, just like how I dont want my best friend and psychologist to realise how little Im telling them. Im scared. Under all my bossing around and sassy exterior, Im a coward. A lowly coward. But nave Oliver doesnt seem to notice my abrupt pause. Ill have to try that. Um, thanks, Imogen. With a weird look on his face, he walks off into the hallways, whistling. Aria approaches me, her hands clapping wildly. First period has already started, and as usual, shes late. Disorganised Aria. Typical. But then again, I better get a move on too. My best friend stops me at my tracks before I can say anything else. Imogen! You going to the party? Something snaps in my mind when the word party appears in our conversation. My mind darts to how extreme this situation must be for Xavier to take in. Hed be flipping all over the place, trying to look for me (the girl whos supposedly mentally unstable) and somehow, in a sickening way, this thought assures me. I need to be cared for, I need somebody to chase after me even if its just in their job-description.

I was already thinking of attending the party, but after hearing Arias voice with a tinge of doubt like she isnt expecting me to say yes I smile and nod my head. Sure. When is it again? Startled, she replies, Seven oclock. Ill help you pick out clothes. I mean if you want, that is. Yes, I say too quickly. Right. Well. Bye! And before she can question anything, Im off to my next class. Sitting through the dragging hours and feeling my legs fill up with pins and needles. When the bell rings, Im yawning all the way to my locker and fetching my apple from my lunch-box. My eye catches a piece of paper stuck at the side, poking out. Dear Imogen, I have come to inform you that youre completely temper-mental. Thats 2% temper, and 98% mental. Love you too! Xoxoxoxoxoxo Xavier

CHAPTER FIVE
Everyone has those days where everything changes. I already had them the day at the ice-cream shop, with my mother and Xavier meeting. Come to think of it, if it wasnt for Xavier coming into my life, Id probably injure myself purposely. But now I know theres somebody I can talk to even if the only reason to do so is for money. However, today is another one of those days. The second one in two weeks. The world isnt the same anymore, but instead, its replace with a new feeling. One of not belonging anywhere, not even in my own home. The feeling I need to get out, break free, and just live life. Perhaps its a little impulsive of me of thinking these thoughts, but my mind cant help it. Its like the whole world has crashed in front of my face, waiting for me to get aboard. Whats going on? Whats happening to me? But none of these questions have any answers. Because if they did have answers, I wouldnt be the one attending that party. Id make sure I never leave the house, let alone attend this party which would ruin my whole life. I shouldve listened to Xavier. When I enter the hallway, I see everybody dancing around to the beating music blaring out of the speakers. Several people are standing around, cheering on others to take the first sip of alcohol. A lot of girls are leading boys up the stairs, and by how the boys arent protesting, I know theyre up to no good. Some of the people are me are slurring, the alcohol taking on its best effect. The entire housereeks of smelly substances, making me almost tempted to join in. But because Im the perfect school captain, I merely roam around with my head held high. Alcohol has never been the kind of thing to tempt me. But this it feels like Im a loser, a wimp for not trying it. When I see Aria with her hands wrapped around a boys head, I have a churning feeling about this entire party. Shes drunk for sure. Arias always so sensible and mature she would never do anything like that. Not in public, anyway. But watching her kiss him with her tongue in his mouth, sliding in and out like a fish, made me sick to no extent. I sit at the bench, feeling nausea creep over me but I halt it. No. In order to be recognised, in order to make sure Im never forgotten, I need to be here. I need to make sure I dont do anything to damage my reputation, especially backing out when the party has barely started.

Word will go around that Im a wimp. Ill be teased. I shudder at the thought. Realistically, Id rather be a complete meanie, telling people off and having them hate me. But at the same time, nobody (except Emily, but thats different were all brainless when it comes to protecting somebody we love) have said anything to my face. Regardless of how much theyd love to punch my face in with a chair like Dylan Thompson said three weeks ago, according to Aria, they still cant face me. And Ill make sure it stays that way. Im not strong. My mind is so fragile and weak I need people to be scared of me. I need them to keep their opinions to themselves, because despite my strong exterior Im timid. So breakable. No, I cant let anybody see me as a target for their cruel games and thoughts. Hey, Imogen. The voice is a deep one. I recognise it instantly the boy who supposedly wanted to throw a chair at my face, Dylan Thompson. Want one? His sweaty hands contain a small tablet with an E carved into it. Now, Im not expert, but this is definitely the addictive ecstasy my teachers always tell us about. How right it feels to have it, but how wrong it feels without it. With a snort escaping my nose, I push his hand away with such force I surprise even myself. He just shrugs his shoulders and disappears. Ill be back, he says in a voice which makes me realise hes not kidding. No, when Dylan Thompson says something with that tone, he means it. I cant help running my brain through whats happening around me. My lungs are struggling to feed on air, but my heart continues pacing at full speed. Thump, thump, thump. Most of the people around here are under-aged. Sure, maybe theyll just get off with a warning but Im supposed to be guarding them. Even if it isnt school. Even if the house belongs to Freya Smith whos pashing a guy in the back corner while he tries to feel her. Even if my very best friend has lost all control of what shes doing. Its still my responsibility. Theyre all my responsibility. And before I can stand up and order everybody out, Dylan returns with a crooked smile on his face. He waves the ecstasy in his sweaty palms. I feel sick. If he does give me the ecstasy, what good will it do for him? Giving away tablets like that for free? What is he, insane? Im just about to open my mouth when he beats me to it. I heard about you and Justin. Tough luck. Anger boils in my veins. Dont you dare! Imogen, dont be such a wimp. You know what, thats the reason Justin dumped you in first place.

Despite my best intentions to ignore him, this sentence catches my attention like a moth attracted to light. In what way? You were too boring. Not impulsive enough. Just like any other girl. He hands me the tablet. Prove him wrong, Imogen, he whispers. I know this is exactly what he wants me to do, for unknown reasons. He wants me to swallow it. Drink it down without another minutes hesitation. Maybe all hes after is me separating from my hard-earned reputation. But something has gotten into me. What exactly it is, I have no clue, but I remember taking the pills from his sweaty hands and plopping them in my mouth. As if by instinct, like he knew I would accept the drugs without much pushing, he extends a glass of water towards me. He says something about the tablet taking thirty minutes to take full effect, but Im too busy feeling sorry for myself. Oh God. What have I done? Internally, I cant help a feeling of excitement come over me. The most rebellious thing I will ever do has just been done. But instead of feeling happy and pleased with myself, I plot ways to make sure I dont get affected by those pills. Perhaps I can spew it up at the bathroom. Im just about to spring off my feet and head towards the bathroom, but Dylans grin grows wider as he yells, Oh my gosh, Imogen, did you just take ecstasy? As all the people in the room turn around, a deep sinking feeling attacks my stomach. This must be some sort of side-effect. According to my studies at school, ecstasy is made with a variety of things. Theres no actual recipe of about how to make it or a confirmation on how safe it is; for all I know, this might just be fatal. A horrific thought enters my mind. What if Dylan wasnt kidding about the punching me part and honestly does want to hurt me? Maybe he wasnt thinking of seeing me tomorrow. No, I simply must fight this thought. Now that hes pretty much told everybody in the room, every single persons looking at me. Some of them are too drunk to recognise the fact Imogen Vivian, Ms Perfect, has just taken a dosage of pills. But there are still some conscious audience, whore staring at me with a widened eyes and humungous grins. When I turn to Dylan to give him the dirtiest glare I can possibly manage, he smiles in return. Not a nice smile. A cruel and knowing smile. He knows that if I back out now, everybodys going to think Im not brave enough to consume pills without vomiting. Maybe its a very unfair conclusion, but what say do I get towards it?

After all, hes more popular and laid-back than I will ever be. Half the people at this schoolhate me, especially the boys because they cant stand the fact of a girl ruling the school. No, its just too much for them to handle. The weaker gender shouldnt have so much power. Which is why Im left behind in the dust, not liked but hated. Whats worse, there are times of ignorance. Like my opinions dont matter. And personally, I find it more hurtful than hate. Because with hate, at least Im still existing in their world. I wont let myself be forgotten. And if I can stir up rumours about how I took up drugs maybe this is the perfect way to win approval. Even if this pill is fatal which I suppose it wont be; Dylan cant be serious, can he? at least Ill die with dignity. Sitting back at the wall, my head buried in my knees, I lean my entire frame against the frame. Freya, the owner of this house, has apparently no parents. Just grandparents whore visiting their own relatives. Freya, because shes older than me, is eligible to stay alone. But never would I expect her to be this wild. Shes finishing school so soon! Why is she setting such a bad influence to both her peers and the years younger her? But then I realise shes not a school-captain. This is the thing about St Johns the school president has the task of making sure everything is perfect. They have to be presentable, have minimal records on their negative files, have a positive smile even when theyre breaking on the inside. None of the Year Twelves wanted to become one of the presidents, and there were only two boys from Year Eleven who wanted to be school president, but that was only for the free food they receive. Which was left down to me. To be honest, I still dont know why I took it. Surely there were better ways of never being forgotten? Without being completely hated, I mean. All these thoughts are buzzing around like bees, stabbing me in the brain. But they cant be bees no, bees only sting once before falling dead. These thoughts are so vivid and When I look up, everything is so different. Its not the same sweaty party scene with people making out. Its so beautiful. I find myself gasping at the beauty of the colours of the disco lights, reflecting on everybodys clothes. It makes them look so luminous and full of life. I never realised how beautiful the entire room is. Why havent I noticed the beauty before? The roof is cracked, yes, but its such a pretty colour. And the shade of grey in the window is just remarkable. Like a picturesque scene, even if its disabling anybody from looking out.

Aria comes up to me, her mouth smelling like alcohol, but I dont care. The smell of alcohol is so pleasant and life-changing. She says something to me in a language I dont understand. My ears are trying to detect her slurry words, but theyre ringing against each other too much. Her velvet voice is so soothing. I close my eyes. Its so beautiful. The world is so beautiful. Never have I felt so belonging. Everybody is laughing with everybody else. Were friends. All of us are friends whore under the same roof, just happy. Happy. All of us are happy. I giggle and cant help feeling how good it feels. Never have I giggled so freely in public. There are faces which turn around to look at me, but its not a threatening expression. Its soft, warm and almost approving. Like I deserve to be happy. All of a sudden, Im being lifted up. My entire body is lifted from the floor and I hear the ringing sound again. But this time, its a boy. One with also a very soft and beautiful voice. When I peer up, I see the glasses of Xavier. Hes so beautiful. So handsome. I never noticed how his cheekbones are the perfect angle. How thin his eyebrows are, even if he doesnt do anything to maintain it. Then theres how smooth his skin is. In awe, I reach out and touch his skin. He looks surprised but so beautiful at the same time. And then I do something which goes against everything I stand for, but Im too happy to care about what Im supposed to be doing. I hug him.

CHAPTER SIX
How can something so bad for me feel so utterly amazing? That tablet its like all my memories are blurred into one, unforgettable mixture. Thats the only thought running through my mind as I grab onto Xaviers body, watching him stream through the wide, empty roads. Theres a helmet on my head, a pink one, despite my protesting. Xavier didnt want to wear his sisters helmet and feel like a loser. So, after continuous minutes of bickering, it was settled. But of course, I didnt let him know pink was my favourite colour. The last thing I need is him suspecting Im lying; especially after kissing him last night. That, I can easily tell, didn't work out so well. All the way home it was awkward, while each of us tried to register the best thing to do. Especially since the other was blushing quite vividly. Imogen Vivian never blushes when she's embarrassed, but there's a first time for everything. Speaking of which, I still can't register the reason behind my embarrassment. Why was I so desperately to get away from him, doing everything in my power for him to drive faster? Yelling at cars so they hurry up, and avoiding his gaze when he held my hand while crossing the streets. Because I had no control over myself; anything could happen. And we both understood this fact too clearly. My hands wrap around a bundle of newspaper, as I toss it towards a house. It hits the mailbox before sliding down. Out of frustration, I clench and unclench my fingers. This entire task is much more harder than it appears, getting the perfect aim before watching the paper tumble completely out of proportion. Xavier rolls his eyes at my aim, wrapping his own fingers around a paper-roll and throwing it further. It lands smack-bang in the middle of the door-mat; I try my hardest to look indifferent. But when he turns around with that crooked smile of his, it's impossible to hide my amazement. And admiration. How has he managed to get a grip on this difficult task without frustration. Everybody seems to do everything better than I can. This is a depressing thought which hits my mind in an instant. "Imogen, don't ever let people underestimate you," says a voice in my head. Only I know it isn't my own voice. It's somebody else's; a male's voice, so distant but familiar. "There are people out there who can do ninety percent of the things you can, yes, but the other ten percent you can do, nobody can do."

Shaking the all-too-familiar voice out of my head, I concentrate on the road. Xavier cycles right above a rock, causing me to clutch on even tightly to his t-shirt. This definitely isn't helping the fact I'm still getting over the awkwardness of yesterday. "Imogen, it's your turn." Getting my wrist and gathering all the strength in my arm, I toss it as further away from me as possible. I watch it land smack-bang towards the driveway. Towards a car and missing the windows by a second. Xavier stops abruptly, sucking in his breath and rubbing his glasses on his jeans. Ill pretend I didnt hear that. But seriously, Imogen, we couldve been spending the rest of our lives in jail. We? Im too young to go to jail. Youre the one theyll blame, you adult you. I punch him playfully on the arm, watching his roll his eyes skyward. How bout I buy you a chocolate bar to make up for life-imprisonment. A chocolate bar isnt going to With almonds and honeycomb. Deal. * After exhausting ourselves with the paper round, we sit at a bench in a caf. I buy him two different types of chocolate one with almonds, and another with honeycomb. He eats them like a deserted child without access to sugar. In short, very rapidly and savagely. You know what, Immy? He licks his fingers. Yawning, he wipes the fog away from his glasses. He looks up, and I realise how different he looks without them. He looks almost dare I say it good-looking. But like Aria said, brunets are my type. So calling him good-looking isnt going to do much about my mental health. Ill have to retire as your psychologist. Theres a silence. What? Your mum how do I say this caught you hugging me. He runs his hands through his hair, looking everywhere but at me. And now she probably thinks Im only hanging around you so I can you know. He stops thankfully.

Say it. I dont know why I need to hear it, but I torture him anyway. No psychologist of mine is going to be weak and not willing to say exactly whats on their mind. I simply wont allow them to be cowardly. Go on, Xavier. Sleep with you. He looks at me directly in the eyes. Happy? For now. But who cares what she thinks? He exhales loudly. You dont get it. If she gets the slightest bit suspicious, shell call up my university and Ill probably be in jail. I just realised something. What? I shouldnt have bought you those chocolate bars! If youre going to jail anyway, I shouldnt have felt guilty. Its sickening how, after that entire speech, your only concern is how much you spent on me. Seriously, Imogen, do you ever think about anybody but yourself? Wondering why on Earth he said that, I watch him stand up and leave the caf without stealing a single glance towards me. Uh-oh. This definitely isnt a good time for anything, especially not trying to figure out why my own psychologist the one whos supposed to make me feel normal and right thinks Im impossible. My hand stirs in the tea. Stir, stir, stir. There are limited people in this particular caf. But the ones whore here all have somebody to talk to. Maybe they are their sister/brother, boyfriend/girlfriend, Mum/Dad but the point is, they all have somebody. Everybody has somebody to vent to. Somebody wholl share their problems. Me? Ive got no-one. No-one but myself. * My hands are shaking as I scan through all of the pictures. Every one of them flashback a memory for them. Ones which Id rather not remember, but I do anyway. This is something I never think about. Its one of the things Id rather not remember; not for the rest of my life. I want to hide away my feelings, but theyre so high in pressure I wont be able to keep them bottled-up any longer. Ill explode if I try too hard.

So thats why I go through the pictures. My heart racing. And suddenly, Im recognising their faces so much that I feel like Im in a dream. Somewhere else. Nowhere near reality. The first picture is of my father. Imogen, if youre ever going to be a lawyer, be one. He ruffles my hair. Dont care about what other people think. Theyre just not worth it. I remember looking up at my father, my eyes shining. Instantly, I forget about how Tyson Mackett said being a lawyer is a stupid job for anybody. According to my father, if I wanted to be anything I put my mind to, I can achieve it. Whatever I want, I can have it. Everything is down to me, and what I do to make things work for me. That night, I remember feeling bubbly and light inside. It was the first time I felt close to someone. My father died in a coma. I cant remember details because nobody ever discusses it. Somehow, Ive fooled myself into thinking I was born without a father. That I never had somebody to depend on, that I never had somebody waiting on me. I miss him so much. And it was all my fault he died. It was my fault for ever getting close to him. The second picture of my first boyfriend. Imogen, I think I have to break up with you. Briony says, sighing. First of all, were only ten years old Mum would kill me if she knew I already had a girlfriend. Innocent little me just shrugged. Of course. But Ill love you forever and ever, Briony. Even if your first name is one of a girls. He laughs and ruffles my hair. As if youre capable of romantic feelings. Briony was abducted, three months later. His body was found among dead leaves and straws. Paedophiles are believed to be the reason behind his death. But I just lingered back and pretended not to notice how the two people I opened my heart to had disappeared out of my life forever. My hands are shaking as I see the next photo. A picture of my grandmother. Imogen, stop eating all the batter! But she cant help laughing as she wipes away at my mouth with a napkin. Its your birthday today. You want to look your very best. But it doesnt feel like it, I complain. I still feel like Im ten years old, not eleven.

Youve been growing all this time, Imogen. Youre going to make us all proud one day. She pats my head. Grandmother, unlike anybody else in the world, hated complimenting people. So when she said those words to me on my eleventh birthday, I felt more special than I could ever describe. My cheekbones were hurting from smiling so much. Imogen! Stop eating it at once! Giggling, I put the bowl of cake batter on the bench and walk off, singing a merry tune. Grandmother had a little too many pills before bed one day. The very next, her heart wasnt beating anymore. Silent like night. This was a week from the day my father died, so it was obvious she wasnt thinking straight in first place. Everything she did was half-hearted and jumbled, like shes waiting for something or somebody to assure her its all a dream. In a way, she wouldve died. Perhaps not in a physical form, but there would be a time where all shed ever do was rock on her rocking chair, thinking about memories. Shed be going back a thousand miles an hour, thinking of everything thats happened to her life and how helpless she is in situations. She wouldve died on the inside. And in a way, its good that she died. But I lost another person I got close to. Even if it was for a brief moment. Burying my face in my knees, I concentrate on the patterns on my knee. So vivid and colourful. Lifes not like that at all. Its some dark, twisted thing which never gives up. My eyes are blurring out until I cant see the pattern anymore. Dont cry; whatever you do, dont cry. And I have to admit; I feel pretty darned proud about how I controlled myself from waterworks. How I kept all my feelings locked up inside me. Mums outside, hanging the laundry. But at the same time, shes singing a song from her own generation. I wonder how shed react if I told her how I feel. I need somebody to vent to somebody to get close to. But Ill lose them. A shrill noise sounds inside my ear. Ill always, always lose them. I could never get close to Aria. No matter how much she wanted to know more about me, Id just shrug and act completely insane. Insane. Is it all a mask or what I truly am? What I truly am underneath everything I pretend to be? Maybe this is why Justin didnt want to date me anymore. After all, who wants to go out with an insane girl? Especially not one who has a history of having everybody she ever cared for disappear. This is why Xaviers words stunned me more than any other thing I heard in my life. Dont you ever care about anybody but yourself? Maybe I dont. Perhaps all I do is feel sorry for myself, for a curse I have no control over. But I know I cant get close to anybody.

Its not normal to have nobody to trust. Its not normal to have something bad happen to everybody Ive loved. Guess the word abnormality isnt as far off as Id like it to be.

CHAPTER SEVEN
Butterflies. They were beautiful creatures, flittering around the swirling wind towards their destination. Sitting on windowsills and racing along colourful blossoms in the middle of springtime. Sometimes I was lucky enough to have them floating around my arm, before landing quickly and taking off once more. Mimi, Dads voice called me, tugging me towards him like a spell. I didnt have a choice at all, my body moving forward to fulfil his direct orders. Come here, Mimi. All of a sudden, my body gained consciousness and I had control over my body once more. But this time, I chose to glide across to him, as I sprung into his arms and hugged him. Happy ninth birthday, he whispered, holding me tight. All of a sudden, there were tears streaming out of her eyes like a waterfall. The butterflies are on the dark ground, their wings torn into two pieces. Like tiny, colourless broken hearts. Blossoms began to die around me, each rotting to a sickening black colour, dark like the night sky. Dad, whats happening? I managed to scream out before the ground vibrated underneath, and Dad gently placed me on the floor. Slowly and steadily, he began to drift away in the distance. Goodbye, he said, choking on his last word. Dont give up hope. Never give up hope. Its never too late for anything. Within a flash, there werent any traces of him. * I wake up from the dream with a start, my heart racing at an abnormal speed. My fingertips have the slight covering of sweat, as I sit up with panic stirring around in my brain, my chest pounding as if trying to detach from my body. Once my breathing has reached the normal rate, I sneak down to my bed and take out a tissue from underneath, wrapping some of the most precious things in my pathetic existence. Im a wreck, as I observe my messy curls, bloodshot eyes and flushed cheeks in the mirror, the tissue still safe in my hands. Unfolding the piece of cotton-lined fabric, I stuff the pill inside my mouth and swallow it without water. Many days of practicing has brought me to forget about draining liquid afterwards.

All of a sudden, the butterflies Id seen earlier have appeared once more among my eyes. Everything is so peaceful and melodic, making me realise how much I love everything in my life. Cautiously as possible, I wrap the tissue back up and place it under my bed, hidden among a pile of books. Mum doesnt have to know about my ecstasy dosage. What she doesnt know wont hurt him. As I trail down the stairs, I march out of the door and race towards the bus stop. The sign hanging upside down makes my heart beat a thousand miles a minute. Nobody bothers to fix anything in this small town. To my surprise, I see Xavier wave at me. I wave back with such a smile on my face, it makes him narrow his eyes. Its like hes questioning my sanity. Why cant I be happy without anybody telling me what to do? But today, Im in too much of a good mood to care. Let my psychologist think Im a complete lunatic it doesnt matter. Nothing matters anymore. Not when I have butterflies all around me. Beautiful, wonderful breezes ruffling through my hair. Its everything Ive wanted. Some happiness, some normality. And no psychologist of mine is going to ruin this feeling this feeling I want to cherish forevermore. My head is kind of spinning, but its a positive daze. I love this feeling. Why havent I ever heard about this drug until Thomas told me? I couldve gotten through so many incidents of my life with one single tablet. People say its bad for me? No, it cant possibly be right. Something this amazing, something which makes me feel as if I can fly cant be bad for me. It cant damage me not without my permission. Nothing around me isnt under control. And anyway, Im not addicted. I can stop anytime I want. But right now, I dont want to. Those little pills, worth as much as forty dollars a piece is worth every dollar Im giving away. Maybe Ill be broke by Christmas time and have to rave through Mums purse to buy presents, but every dollar is worth this feeling. Because whenever I eat one of them, I feel normal. Normal. Nothing my mother says about my insanity kicking in isnt true anymore. Yes, maybe Im a little antisocial, but it doesnt mean Im insane. Perhaps I have experienced more deaths than everybody in my innocent class, however, it has nothing to do with how Im coping with it. These pills they help me cope. Because when I take them, nothing Mum says can hurt me. Nothing can make me want to pull my hair out. And Xavier doesnt look half as bad. Ugh. Okay, maybe that was an over-exaggeration. But in all honesty, I still cant help comparing his messy blond hair to streaks of sunlight which got tangled up tangled up together like headphones left in my pockets. Theyre so brilliant and full of life. Theyre catching the sun more than sunbathers do in the centre of the beach.

With my heart pounding, I cant help feeling a little insecure when he turns to me. His green eyes are fixed on me. He obviously realises theres something wrong with me. But theres nothing wrong. Maybe taking drugs to school wasnt such a good idea. But I cant regret anything now. Ill have to cope with it. And anyway, nothing nobody can say can hurt me. Never too late. Those were my fathers words. Should I really listen to somebody who died on me? Obviously not. Even when I was in an unstable condition, he deserted me. How can I trust somebody like that? A grimace plays on my lips. Though Im not completely upset thanks to the effect of those drugs, Im still feeling rather bitter. Why am I putting up with such ridiculous statements? Of course I shouldnt trust him. But Im a bad-luck charm. No wonder Justin dumped me. If I still continue to date him, hell never get anywhere in life. Hell end up dying like everybody else in my life. Everybody keeps dying on me No. No, I cant think about that right now. I need to make sure to fake a smile a smile. Not that itll be hard to, but these endless headaches theyre impossible to avoid. All of a sudden, I feel sweat dripping from my forehead. My cheeks are flaming red I dont need to look in the mirror to check, because Xavier is looking at me with concern shining in his eyes. Mimi, are you okay? Normally, Id snap at him for calling me my nickname when he clearly has no right. But today, Im in such a good mood, he cant do anything to stop it from overflowing through my veins. My heart heats a thousand time a minute, but I manage to smile at him. Not a very convincing one, but he still looks the slight bit relaxed. Just a little bit. He takes his drink-bottle from his bag. Here. I take it and gulp down most of the bottle. He looks at me with a weary eyebrow. Suddenly, I have the urge to run back home and lock myself up. Im not sure why this sudden feeling crosses me, but I have the assumption Ill never be able to survive this day. Im already on drugs, and its only a matter of time before the teachers find out. Then theyll tell my mother. And everything will go crashing down right in front of me. Why are my emotions so rapidly changing? This is the story Im asking myself. Why do I feel the urge to run home and never look back? Xavier looks at me with more worry. But its genuine enough to make gulp. You you didnt correct me for calling you Mimi. He narrows his eyes, as if trying to see through me. Whats wrong with you?

Theres nothing wrong with me. Now, lets go more for-for-for-warddd. Oh no. Im slurring on my words now. Okay, fine. I had too much to drink yesterday, I lie. Im having a hangover. Happy? A smirk tugs on his lips. Ecstatic. But honestly, I wonder what everybody would say if I told them Imogen Vivian was undergoing a hangover Its much better than telling them I like the effect of drugs. Instead of voicing my opinion, I keep my mouth closed. Xavier doesnt say anything. We keep walking through the morning light, while Im attempting to stand too close to him. Maybe Justin pretty much dumped me, but it doesnt change the fact I still like him. If he comes back ay minute, hell see us together and get the wrong idea. Not that theres a right idea in first place. Oh, hello, Justin. This is Xavier, my psychologist. Well, he was my psychology until my mother caught us kissing and got a little suspicious about us.Isnt there something wrong with that sentence? And itll just confirm the minimal chances of Justin and me becoming friends, let alone being together again. Which makes me wonder, all of a sudden, why Xavier still continues to become my psychologist. Why is he coming to school every day? Though I know hes eighteen, and though a lot of people at school are eighteen, he doesnt need a repeat. I know school is bad the first time around theres no reason to turn back to the beginning. Not again. So why does he continue to attend on a regular basis, learn things he already knows? And most of all, how does the school still allow him to take part when hes clearly too old? Shouldnt the principal have something to say about this? Suddenly, I see the butterflies again. The vivid, bright colours cloud my mind. I feel so happy, so free. But theres something wrong with this feeling. When I reach this feeling, everything is perfect. There is a feeling of perfection Ill never get without the drugs. Which obviously means this feeling is never going to last. My pockets are empty. If only I had forty dollars more, I could get another one of those pills from Thomas. He opens up a small store underneath the abandoned shelter where he sells those drugs. And he gets a lot of customers this happens after school, when the teachers are all gathered in the staff-room and dont roam. I know this specifically because Ive been there. It seems like an entire year, but it has only been a month since I went through those pictures. Those pictures of all my losses and felt more sorry for myself. But it doesnt matter, because as long as I depend on these drugs, Ill be fine. Everything will be fine. Especially like those butterflies floating around. Wait, why are there butterflies floating around?

They must be hallucinations. But theres one side-effect I can live with. When I enter the school grounds, I put my bag in my locker and go straight to my English class without taking another glance at Xavier. In this last month, todays the first time I came to school while Im still loaded with ecstasy. But I couldnt help it I love this feeling, the butterflies, the beat. I couldnt store it away for later; I needed it. I needed it now. My heads feeling a little dizzy, but I figure its just another hallucination. Today, Ive got an entire twenty minutes until school starts. Ill just stand in front of my class so I dont get lost. Just in case the dizziness rises to the extent that I cant remember where my class is. So its safer just to get there first. For some reason, my head spins more dramatically. I feel as if Im about to vomit, but know I wont be able to. What is this feeling? The ground underneath me is spinning in all kinds of directions there are repeats of certain patterns, certain chocolate wrappers and certain pieces of rubbish. These repeating figures are still stuck in my mind. Im woozy, Im dizzy. I feel the urge to lie down, but know the school hallways arent the ideal place for sleeping. Anybody can walk all over me without hesitating. So I somehow manage to stagger forwards. Few people turn around to look at me, confusion showing in their eyes. But none of them understand me. None of them care. None of them come to my rescue. Especially when I collapse, right in front of everybody. My visions blurry, I feel like falling, but all I see is doubles of people. People whore watching me with wide eyes but are too afraid to take a step forward. Somebody, call an ambulance! says Xaviers voice. I feel a hand on my arm. My eyes close. I guess that, just this once, Ill have to trust Xaver MacKenzie.

CHAPTER EIGHT
When I wake up, its just pure whiteness which comes into view. White chairs, white bed-sheets are light-coloured walls which, although arent completely white, can pass for the blinding colour. My head spins as I panic, scanning through the room for somebody. A friendly face, thats all I need. A sudden pang of pain shoots through my skull, and I clutch at it. This motion has no effect, and I continue to feel as if a million mosquitoes are biting the insides out of my head. Hey. Oh look. Its Xavier. My memory is slowly coming back to me, on how he saved me by bringing me here. But now, Im not seeing this as saving anymore. Instead, its a technique to destroy me. The doctors have surely checked my blood-level; they wouldve found abnormal traces of drugs and my reputation will be torn before I can blink. My position as the Post-It-Queen will never last, especially since Ill now have a zillion people who know exactly how to blackmail me. I death-glare the boy who started it all. Xavier looks back innocently, as if he has no idea what he did. Just when Im about to say something, he cuts in with, How stupid do you think I am, Imogen? For a minute, I consider jokingly replying with, Very. But his eyes are weary and his voice is sharp and accusing. I dont think hes joking around. I gulp. Theres a side of Xavier Ive never seen. An accusing, dark side without his usual charming-self. Then again, how am I to know if the whole charming isnt just an act? Theres no way a person can be that cheerful all the time. So I reply with a, I dont know what youre talking about. Im a psychiatrist dont you dare underestimate me. I know a person on drugs when I see one. I shouldve known to keep my drug-usage indoors. But no, I just had to try at school. Under another light, Im thankful for the experience especially since Id probably regret not trying it for a long time. However, it doesnt stop the fact Ive been caught out in a drug-trip. Life can be so cruel sometimes. Especially since Xavier was the person to rescue me. I dont think Ill ever be able to face him properly. He knows my one weakness, and its frustrating me to no end about how much control he has over me. If he wants to, he can tell the whole school about my major screw-up and Ill be stuck with humiliation.

Just the thought of it all makes me want to murder him. Its be a quick, painless death and my secret will be kept safe. Of course, this also means Ill have to slaughter all the doctors, but theres another risk Im willing to take. Its amazing how much Im willing to do just to keep my you-cant-blackmail-me reputation. Why are you even on drugs? Xavier says. Dont you know what they can do to you? The words themselves are boring; Ive heard them a zillion times before. Not directed to me specifically, but in science class where the teacher makes a note about how dangerous these small things are how one of them can destroy a casual humans life forever with its lies. Of course, I thought it was ridiculous and decided not to listen to that old hag. But the way Xavier says the words? Theyre full of disgust, as if just saying them to himself causes a large amount of spit to form in his mouth. It enrages me. Something snaps. Despite the fact my head still hasnt recovered from the drug-trip, I stand up. My legs are wobbly, but my mind is determined. Fixed and focussed on the target in front of me, suddenly aware Im shaking and that my teeth are bared. My mind subconsciously wants to tear him apart into tiny, microscopic pieces. Poor Xavier. Ive never seen him look this terrified. I guess theres a certain appeal about a maniacal girl glaring at him, ready to eat a human being alive. He takes a step backwards, his eyes still glued on me. Dont you dare look down on me, I hiss. Hear that? Never. Dont you ever think youre better than me because youre a couple of worthless months older, or cause I jumped off a bridge because I couldnt handle life anymore. I dont You dont? Xavier, youre the most judgemental person Ive ever met in my pathetic life. You just tend to hide it when youre being all professional. But you know what? We both know youre nothing but a stupid, arrogant adult who thinks theyre above everybody. Theres silence. My diaphragm is heaving with the anger, the frustration. Why isnt killing legal yet? Id love to show this boy a piece of my mind. And then watch him suffer, scream in agony as I do so. Its kind of disturbing how peaceful this idea seems to me; like its no big deal to kill somebody. Xavier, to my surprise, hangs his head down. Youre right. Im nothing like I seem. And before I say anything else, he disappears. My legs are more wobbly than ever, especially seeing as how his sudden confession stunned me. I figured hed be the type to argue back and then finally storm out of the room while still holding in theory I was wrong and he was right. Boy, was I way off he didnt do as much as deny the fact Im accusing him of being fake.

Why did I think hed be the type to run away from accusations? This is the thought which circulates my mind as I sit back into the bed, trying to keep my legs from shaking. Theres something about being stuck in the hospital which makes me feel queasy. And yet, it didnt stop me from jumping up and shooting accusations at my psychiatrist. The thing is, he didnt have to save me from my stupid drug-trip. He knew from the moment I walked out of my house there was something in my blood, and it wasnt alcohol. When I suddenly felt dizzy and knocked myself over, he couldve pretended not to see me just to teach me a lesson about trying to fool him. My cheeks flush. Thats exactly what I wouldve done if we had switched places. I wouldve just whispered, after he collapsed, Dont underestimate me and my knowledge and then walked away, letting somebody else handle the rest. But thats the thing: Xavier and I are nothing alike. Where I would have a smug expression, he has a concerned one. Thats what sets us apart; were two completely different people. I sigh, feeling my hair will be wild when I arise. Instead of understanding him, I thought of him as the type to leave people drowning; I found him a pain in the neck. When I shot all those accusations at him, I didnt expect him to react the way he did. Wasnt I doing the judging a couple of minutes ago? What makes me any more better than he is? * The next day is one where everything is back to normal. Due to privacy reasons, the doctors werent allowed to tell anybody about my minor set-back. And when I apologised to Xavier, he half-smiled and said Id have to trust him to keep my secret. My mother doesnt know about this situation. Somehow, this blond-haired boy managed to convinced them not to. He is, after all, a psychologist professional or not. And it doesnt matter if hes my psychologist either. Because the thing is, hes not going to leave school any-time soon. When I asked him how come he continues to go to school while everybody else tries to ditch it in every way possible, he laughed. School, from his point of view, is something he always wanted to attend. This made me react oddly. What did he mean he always wanted to attend? Every Australian high-schooler is forced to have an education of some sort. But before I could query like mad about something which was none of my business, he smoothly changed the subject to bananas and concrete.

Stuffing another bite of bread-roll into my mouth, I watch everybody walking past. Theyre all giving me weird looks, but Im used to it. Everybody thinks Im crazy. Although I dont know how they managed to read my mothers thoughts. Its like everybody at school knows exactly what my mother thinks. Rumours are spread about me, things are said but hey, theyre just jealous. Jealous of my power over the school. I havent seen Aria or Emily today. Which I find kind of weird, seeing as I always find them in the mornings. And then theres Oliver, who I couldnt spot either no matter how much I sniffed the air for cheese. Theres something odd about this. Where have they gone? And why havent I seen them? The seat beside me is pulled out, as Xavier slumps into his seat and rampages through his lunchbox. Instead of getting a brown paper-bag like normal, cool high-schoolers do, he gets something a toddler would claim to outgrow. He grins at me. I feel the urge to slap some common sense into him for bringing such a hideous container to school. But most of all, I want to ask him what he meant by he always wanted to go to school. It strikes me as kind of odd. Very, very peculiar. Have you seen Aria, Emily or I cant believe Im saying this Oliver? His grin vanishes. Instead, theres a grimace as he looks down, avoiding my eyes. No. I havent seen them. Theres something about that expression hes giving me which I question with, What? Whatre you saying? Spit it out. Xavier opens his mouth. But then closes it, his jaw dropping as his eyes focus on the girl getting food from the cafeteria. Its hard to see it properly, but when I narrow my eyes a little, it looks like a carton of chocolate milk in her hands. She smiles at the lady behind the counter politely before walking off. That milks off, says Xavier, and I begin to wonder if hes talking to himself or me. Its obvious hes talking to himself, because he doesnt give me a second thought before speed-walking through the cafeteria. The girl is smiling at one of her friends, whos babbling on and on about something. So when Xavier comes up to her and then takes the carton of milk, its obvious he caught her by surprise. From the movement of his lips, hes saying something like, I wouldnt drink that if I were you. This entire scenario is too weird for me to comprehend. And before I know it, Xaviers back in his seat and casually eating his lunch like nothing happened. But something did happen. He just knewthat milk was off. And judging by the look of horror on the girls face, as she flashes a Wow look at Xavier, my blond friend was right. It truly was off and rotten. How did he know?

Because hes trying so hard to pretend it never happened, I decide Ill help him. Just this once, I wont ask him any questions about that incident. Even if its killing me on the inside to not know what just happened. So instead, I ask something else I want an answer to. Do you know where Aria, Emily and Oliver are? He sighs. What do you want, Mimi? The truth or just more supportive lies? The truth. My mind was quizzical on how he asked me that question. It was like he thought telling me the truth would hurt me, but at the same time, he appeared extremely frustrated. Maybe he hated lying to me. Maybe he just hated the idea of playing along to something which reality was on an entire new road. What the whole point of asking if I wanted the truth was beyond me. Of course I wanted the truth! Why live a lie? But his next words make me wish I never asked. Emily, Aria, Oliver and even Justin are your imaginary friends. They dont exist. They never did.

CHAPTER NINE
I wasnt sure if I heard correctly. Or maybe I did, but Xavier had a slight pronouncing problem. Maybe he wasnt quite clear on the message he wanted to get across, and twisted it accidentally and made me feel crazy. Which is insane, of course. Im not crazy. Im the furthest away from such a world my mother is just thinks one jump off a bridge was enough to kill my spirit. Now my psychologist thinks Im crazy. On another note, I always saw it coming there would be a time where even Xavier thought there was something special about me. But at the same time, I couldnt help holding onto a little bit of hope. What if he didnt end up thinking what most other people think? Wouldnt it be a refreshing beginning? But by the way hes looking at me, Im confirmed hes not joking. Theres not the slightest bit of humour in his darkened expression. Youre youre not kidding, are you? Even though I knew he wasnt, I couldnt help asking. No. Aria, Justin or Oliver arent real. He exhales loudly. Oh, for crying out loud. Have you ever heard of a boy whos obsessed with cheese? And what is Justin doing touring the world when barely anybody in the school knows him? As for Aria, she seem believable but shes not real. None of them are. I stare at him. I blink at him a couple of times before bursting into fits of giggles. Xavier, you joker you. Im not joking. Oh, please. As if Im stupid enough Mimi, Im not joking. Seriously, come off it. The funs over. You can go back to whatever Look at me. Right now. Look. When I refuse to turn around, he grabs my face and forcefully tugs it until were face-to-face. Hes gritting his teeth. Do I look like Im joking? This is why your mother thinks youre insane. Because you are. Youre damaged beyond repair. You have these friends who dont exist, a reputation as a Post-ItQueen you dont have except in your dreams, and you hallucinate text-messages. And whats more, youre now on drugs.

I break away from his grip. No boy is going to touch me without my written permission. Glaring at him, I cant help wondering why hed be any different. How foolish I was to think hed see right into my soul, when all he did was look through me. Every one of my other psychologists did the exact same thing was nice to me at first, becoming my best friend and then impatiently suggesting my life was nothing more than a lie. So what made this boy so special? Why did I ever think hed be the one to become my friend for the sake of it, and not try to change my ways? And anyway, I dont have any ways! I have friends who exist and a reputation I withhold. Maybe Aria, Oliver or Emily arent here today. But theyll all come tomorrow and Ill prove to Xavier how wrong he was. With my hands shaking, I excuse myself not that I really needed to, seeing as I wanted to rip his head off and walk towards the school-gates. Right beside the school gates is the toilet blocks. The thing which concerns me about this school, is how close the toilets are to the gates. Its pretty much the perfect spot for paedophiles and rapists. Trying not to think about that, I enter the room and then wash my face. My hands run under the cold water in the sink. When I look in the mirror, all I see is a girl with blue eyes which might as well be ripped out of her face. Maybe itll match the rest of her pale features. Or maybe its because this girl tried to survive on drugs at school. When I fish my pockets for another E tablet, I find myself horrified to reach nothing but air. My teeth grind against each other so strongly, Im confirmed Ill need a dentist appointment. A long one. Xavier took all the tablets from my pockets to prevent me from ever using these drugs again. What a jerk! What a bastard! Ready to shriek my lungs out, I hear the door of a toilet cubicle opening. It echoes through the entire femaleblock. My heart skips a beat. Even though its still in school, theres no way to know whether this mysterious person is a student. Or teacher. Or a random walking through the town, casually, creeping into toilet blocks because Australia is a free country. But a whoosh of relief floods through me when I catch the eye of Eliza Okens from Science class. She sits two seats from me, and has the friendliest and eye-blinding smile Ive ever witnessed on a human being. If theres one thing I know, its that she exists Ive heard the teachers calling her name on the roll, so theres no need for Xavier to conclude Im insane. My cheeks flush again. How dare he conclude something so ridiculous! And he also claims that text-message from Justin was a fake? It brings me to the solution that Xavier MacKenzie needs to be murdered sometime soon. Id love to see his dead body wilting on the ground hed totally deserve every minute of it. And although this may be a disturbing thought to most, I still cant help wishing he was dead. Dead. Six feet underground. Then nobody would ever make me doubt myself.

Oh, hello, she says, smiling warmly as she checks her blonde hair in the mirror. Although Hollywood indicates every girl with blonde hair has flawless, glossy hair, Eliza can prove all of them wrong. I begin to query if whats sitting on her head can be considered hair in first place, seeing as it looks more as if shes been shocked with electricity and her hairs sticking out in all different directions. Eliza, right? Uh-huh. And youre Mimi. Mimi Vivian. Yes, I am. Theres an awkward silence. I heard about your last trip to the hospital My heart skips a zillion beats at the same time. But because Im such a cool and collected person, I dont let it show on my face. Ive mastered the art of poker-face, and have an expressionless face this very moment. I try to act indifferent about her statement, pretending Im more interested in my nails and that trips to the hospital are oh-socasual for somebody like me. Yeah Drugs? My jaw drops. She doesnt wait for an answer. Instead, she grins. Dont worry. Your secrets safe with me. And anyway, every pharmacist-in-training knows you cant get trips that badly from a hangover. She winks at me. See you around? Because my mouths too dry to speak, I raise my hand slowly to indicate a goodbye. But shes already out of the door, and Im left stunned. How did she know about my cleverly-hidden secret? Maybe Xavier told her Yes. That must be it. A part of me feels bad about ever accusing him. But ever since he was the person who told me what everybody else had been saying, so hes no different. I cant trust him with anything. And hes just so annoying. I hate how he thinks hes above me because hes a psychologist. And, like he said, hes nothing like he seems. Even as I begin threading a zillion things which make him untrustworthy, I always find one reason which outbalances all of them with why I should. Maybe this is called friendship. *

When I exit the girls bathroom with a long time of thinking, Im aware the bell has already rung for class. I dont want to go anywhere. I want to stay right here and never study again. Wouldnt it be the most amazing thought ever, getting money for doing absolutely nothing? When I look up for the first time, shock injects in every nerve of my body as I see Xavier outside. Obviously waiting for me, because theres no reason why teenagers would casually stand around a toilet block with such an awkward expression on their face. But the anger which flooded through me still hasnt disappeared. Hes still somebody who didnt trust my own eyes. Why cant anybody trust what Im seeing or feeling? And then the urge to kill him overpowers every thought in my brain. I shake them away. What terrifying and illegal thoughts. Why am I thinking what itd be like to kill somebody? Isnt that a little inhumane? The world stops in a matter of minutes. Before I know it, he walks up to me and puts his arms around me. Its an awkward hug. Maybe its because he knows that, when Im not drunk and somebody hugs me, Ill be ready to knock them out with a bowling bowl. So for that reason alone, hes barely touching me. I half-smile at that. And although a lot of my anger fades away, I find myself feeling more saddened and disappointed that he didnt see into me like Id hoped. Maybe thats where all my anger and bitterness came from expecting too much out of people, and only having them let me down. Which turned me into a cynic with the human race. Im sorry, he says, after he pulls away. For hugging me? Youre forgiven. Though, I must warn you to never try that again Im not paying for any plastic surgery your nosell need after I break it. No. Im sorry that I was the worst psychologist in the world. That was so insensitive of me, just blurting out youre damaged beyond repair. So, Im sorry. But you werent lying about it, were you? He looks at me. His eyes resemble glass more than anything at that particular moment. Thats irrelevant. The truth is, I wouldve never said stuff like that. Though Im not a professional because of my age-level, Im still not a complete newbie. But theres something about you ugh. It makes me want to hit you. And then I start losing that charming, professional side of me yknow, with the shining eyes and everything and then I become more me. The entire lecture made my heart beat. Here he was, an expert psychologist expressing his darkest feelings to me. How was he considered a professional if he lets himself get so close to people to actually talk about their feelings? And anyway, I now have this other problem which makes me think am I the psychologist or the patient?

Because after what he said, Im not sure if hes anything like he appears. He pretty much admitted hes living a lie. Every single thing hes said over the last couple of weeks makes me shudder. How charming he was back then, how he used to smirk a zillion times a minute and act like the complete hot guy every girl chases. But hes not like that at all. Maybe this is just something which I understand. Theres something about him which isnt entirely right. Somethings wrong with him. Hes not normal. All these thoughts are spinning around my head, but I ignore them. Instead, I decide its best if I lead this conversation into a lighter path. Theres something in Xaviers eyes which makes me think he regrets exposing himself so much to me at that moment. He needs something to divert this conversation to a humourous one, so neither of us focus on the darkness behind this problem. Not a single thing on my mind is said. I blink. You want to hit me? Um, how do I say this nicely? I dont think I can. So yeah, I do. Oh goodie! The feelings mutual. He exhales so loudly, I wonder if hes having an asthma attack. After that entire lecture, all you got out of it was that you wanted to hit me as well? No! Of course not! I also learnt that the entire shining eyes thing was an act. I knew it from the moment I met you! No normal person can have eyes which glitter so much. I stand corrected in the worst possible way. And as we grin at each other, I feel something break. Maybe it was Xaviers dignity for letting go of his professionalism, or my I-cant-be-friendly-to-anybody-or-make-them-laugh mask I choose to wear every single day. Both of us have something we broke right then; individually and without much thought. Together, we shattered the wall between us we let our guards down, ready to be attacked and hurt again. But Ive never felt happier.

CHAPTER TEN
I dont know why Im here. For one thing, Im not the kind of girl to listen to other people, let alone Xavier MacKenzie. And yet, here I am. With him. Standing awkwardly as he borrows some shoes with that killer smile of his. Why does he have to be so fake? But the girl on the other side of the counter returns his gestures in a friendly way, obviously unable to see how superficial and on-the-surface his actions and thoughts are. Silently, I gag. Hes worse than plastic dolls. Because theyre having this large bowling giveaway, many people from the town are over here. There has to be at least four people for every lane. But there are quite a few lanes. There are discounts and people are rushing to get their share of under-priced goodness. We need two more people, says Xavier, more to himself than me. Ive already called Aria and Oliver. Emily cant come cause shes stuck with the flu. Xavier gives me a long, hard stare. Theres something in his eyes which makes me ready to sigh. He still thinks Im insane; he still thinks Aria, Justin, Emily or Oliver dont exist. But hes wrong. Dead wrong. They do. And Ill prove it to him, the minute they walk through the doors and prove themselves real. Fine, he says at last. Well get them another lane after they come. But for now, were joining another two people just cause well miss out on the promotion otherwise. Something tells me the reason for his suggestion revolves more around my friends not existing than losing the promotion. But I grudgingly agree, realising it truly would be a shame to miss out on discounts. Pulling on the shoes Xavier got, I tie their laces and twist my feet at their ankles to test them. Theyre a perfect fit. My young blond friend follows me with his own pair of bowling shoes stuck onto his feet, red in colour with white stars decorated all around the sides. When we pay the fees, we enter the bowling alley and are awaited by the screams and laughter of people young and old. Elderly couples at several lanes, toddlers are being showed how to bowl by their guardians and high-school groups of unisex friends are getting together for their own party. And thats when I see her. Her red hair is obviously distinctive from the rest of her pale body she reminds me of a ghost than a human being. But its an inheritance from her mother, who happens to be Japanese. Its funny I know so much about Skyla Valenti, especially since weve never really talked. She has already graduated, which makes me wonder why she still bothers with this terribly small down.

Oh yeah. Xavier stops to wrinkle his nose, directed at Skyla. That girl. That girl? Yeah. The annoying one. You know, the type whos always energetic in the middle of the night, ready to scream in your ear? Youve had that experience? Nope. Adam did, though. He points to a boy who moves towards Skyla, surprising her by ruffling her hair from behind. But like always, shed laugh her tinkling laughter. She looks too much like a ghost mixed with a pixie. He brought his father to our clinic once. Our psychology clinic, and then I talked to him cause he was waiting for his father to get admitted. His father? Wow. Arent you full of questions? But yeah. His father. Apparently hes on drugs which made him mental. Whats with the accusing tone? Anger boils in my veins. He thinks hes so above me! Why did I agree to come here with him, anyway? Maybe its because a part of me felt like I should be nice to him. It cant be easy surviving Mimi Vivian. Especially when shes at her worst and true self. And plus, he has the theory Im crazy which Im not. I refuse to believe Im anything but normal. Sure, once upon a time I wondered what itd be like to die. Rot away. Only because everybody Ive ever cared for had died because of me. I felt like I owed it to them to die, and at the same time, I didnt find a reason to live. There were a zillion reasons why I shouldnt live, just like there are ten million these very seconds. Xavier, being the psychologist he is, might have sensed there was something wrong with my thinking. I wasnt like most humans with the fact I hated the idea of doing something without purpose. Even if it meant living. Why live when I dont have any purpose? I have no qualities, no future, no way of thinking where the future will lead me. In short, Im a potato. And this psychologist is the one wholl whip me into a chip. Well, thats his intention anyway. I dont mean anything by it. But hes not very convincing. It suddenly dawns on me how terrible of a liar Xavier MacKenzie is. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah. That Skyla girl gets on my nerves. Shes so

Bright? Optimistic? Its weird, because shes wearing all these skulls and they dont really go with her personality. And it was true. She had skulls on her hairband, a couple of dead creatures on her t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans which didnt suit her at all. Or her personality. But then again, I know nothing about her. Yeah. Inexperienced. She and Adam are terrible for each other. Just like two teenagers dating without much history. I raise an eyebrow. Wow. So the real Xavier is judgemental. Who knew? He rolls his eyes but doesnt protest. Quite obviously, he figured Id win with my eyes shut and hands tied behind my back. If theres one thing I love more than anything, its winning. Which is why I really annoy him by asking Adam and Skyla if we can share a lane with them. Neither of them seem too shocked, especially Skyla who agrees in that bright optimistic way of hers. Shes so cheerful. How does she manage it? Whats more, Adam is so socially awkward. Just looking at him makes me feel uncomfortable. Sure, hes attractive, but more in the mysterious-loner way. Not the type many girls would go for so its surprising to see the most cheerful girl in the entire town find an attraction. Theyre complete opposites. Maybe thats why theyre perfect for each other? But I let go of all my thoughts and focus on making Xaviers life a pure torture. Its only fair, since he cut off my ecstasy tablets the only source of fun in my pathetic life. And when I get home, Im ordering another batch. He can try and stop me. Theres nothing he can do about me. Im wild and I like it that way. Feeling a little scared about my sudden way of rebellious thinking, I cant help a small smile on my lips at the same time. Thats right. Nothing and nobody can stop me from being myself. Even if myself is a psychopath who also likes drugs. And no, Im not an addict I can stop any time I want. But I dont want to. Cause Im bad to the bone. And Xavier better accept that. Because the entire time he tries to change me, Ill be repelling him. My goal is for nobody to get close to me both for myself and the other person. I feel sadness ripping through my body, despite my heavy protest. Thats right. Every time I get close to somebody, something happens to them. They die, they get killed, their life is destroyed. If its once, its a coincidence. Twice, its a half-half possibility I have some supernatural power to kill people. But three times? Three times somebody has died thanks to me? Thats not normal. Not normal at all. So, hows life going for you guys? chirps Skyla. The more I look at her, the more I shudder. Xaviers repulse of her kind of catches on. I mean, weve already graduated and

Skyla? She turns to her boyfriend. What, Adam? Shut up. He points to me, his eyes unmoving from Skylas face. Cant you see youre scaring her? No, no, I say quickly. I just hyperventilate a lot. Im suddenly aware of Xaviers presence beside me. Theres something about him which reminds me of a wall. Hes everywhere but nowhere at the same time. But it amuses me when he grimaces at Skyla, obviously not liking her. I never thought hed be the kind of person to judge somebody by secondary opinions. And especially from her boyfriend! Okay, sure. Adam doesnt quite like how loud his girlfriend is. But hes still dating her. And even while I hear them this very minute, bickering to each other like an old married couple, I see nothing but love in his eyes. Well, and annoyance. And the slightest bit of frustration. Also, is that an I want to kill you glint in his eyes? Hmm. Guess its not all romantic between them. And so we start bowling. Everybody has their turn at throwing the ball, trying to concentrate only on the lane and not the zillions of people socialising around us. But its not that hard. Bowling is something which nobody get points for, and winning doesnt quite matter. Its just all for fun. Which is why I didnt protest too much when Xavier offered me to come with him. And finally, its Skylas last turn at the lane. Shes the last person on the list, therefore after her throw is gone, the entire game will be over. But shes coming last. She needs exactly a strike to come third, beating Adam. I find it strange how Im coming first in a game and even more scornful at how good Xavier is, despite claiming to never bowling before, and this being a type of experience. Letting go off all these thoughts, I focus on Skylas next throw. But at the exact last minute, she loses focus and we watch the ball roll softly toward the pins. Her throw wasnt good enough. It wasnt hard enough to push down all of the pins. Xavier looks amused. Hes sitting beside me, and though I really want to know why hes sitting so close, I dont. There are some things I should learn not to question. But then there are other questions Im dying to ask. Okay, whyre you grinning like an idiot? I say, half-bored. I knew she wouldnt be able to do it. The ball is still rolling, going as slowly as ever.

Unfortunately, Adam is sitting among us. Hearing exactly what Xavier had to say about his girlfriend. By the way I see blondie-boy tense, its obvious he didnt see his victims boyfriend sitting right in front of us. Fortunately, Adam doesnt get mad. Or look hurt. Or do anything, really. But there was an amused half-smile on his face. Watch her, he says simply. And I dont know why I listened to him. Maybe it was because he was so collected and cool when he said it. Or maybe because she was his girlfriend, and though I didnt put her down as terribly as Xavier, I was definitely thinking along the lines of, Wow, she sucks. So my eyes remain on the ball, a little doubtful. So imagine my surprise when it bumps against the left board and smashes straight to the centre. I watch, dumfounded as every pin falls over. Every single one. This puts her in third position, while she stands there with a heart-attack-like expression on her face. Theres a smile on Adams face. On Xaviers, however, theres just shock. Pure and utter shock. And then he mutters, Miracle? Somehow, Adam seems to hear this simple word. He doesnt turn to look at Xavier. His eyes are straight on the girl with her short hair into little plaits, the most excited expression on her face. Yeah. She is. And there was so much love in that tone, I couldnt help feeling uncomfortable. Like this was a moment for them, and not for Xavier or me to interfere. And also I felt grossed out. Severely grossed out. Affection between people of the opposite gender always creeps me out to an extent, regardless of their status as family, friend or romantic partner. But I also learnt something valuable that day. Xavier wasnt right when he said they didnt have history. Sure, hes a trained psychologist and is two years older one year older than both Skyla and Adam and should always know best. But thats not true. Sometimes, even the most experienced people get things wrong. Even the most obvious things which can be interpreted by simply a naked eye. Like Adam and Skyla, right in front of us. He was wrong. Adam and Skyla have so much history, its better not to ask. _______________ To find out more about Adam and Skyla's history, click on the external link to go to my story Summer of Adam Devereaux. (It's completed!)

CHAPTER ELEVEN
My hands are sweating. But theres no reason for them to. Especially since Mum already left the house a couple of hours ago, and Im alone with the computer. Its sitting there, temping me. I bite my lip. Its weird to think two hours ago I had been bowling with Xavier, and also meeting Skyla and Adam properly. And now, Im going completely against my blond friend. Its okay. All Ill do is flick on the computer and surf the browser for a certain site. Because Mums not home monitoring every aspect of what Im doing, I feel a little more relaxed. But she has no clue about my drug-desiring schemes, unless unless Xavier told her. He wouldnt do that, would he? No, hes more loyal than Im giving him credit for. My cursor doesnt even reach to click on the browser, when a tapping noise awakens me. Feeling grumpy, I storm over to the door and yank it open. What? I say, more irritated than ever. My jaw drops when I see Xavier, his hair all messy and a grimace on his face. Uh hello? Your computer is on, he states, looking over my shoulder. He doesnt bother to face me when hes talking to me. Any explanation on what you were doing? I consider lying to him, but instead, I sigh. Theres no point. He knows exactly what I was about to do, so why play dumb? In fact, Id be credited more if I went straight out and told the truth. Opening my door wide open, I cant help feel a boiling rage rush through me. My heads so weak. Im so depressed. Without those pills, my entire life has buried itself down the drain. I need them. I need them badly. But what am I supposed to do when the person who can ruin my entire life is standing right in front of me? Xavier enters the house, putting his coat on the hanger and casually sitting on the couch. Its like he thinks its his house or something. When I give him a dirty look, he simply shrugs and says something about my house being his. Just when Im about to lose my temper completely, smash his head against a brick wall without a second thought, he faces me. The light shines against his glasses, making his eyes impossible to see under the glaring white light. Lets play Truth. Truth?

You heard me. Truth. Mimi, Ive tried everything. Tried to take you bowling so youd know what realitys all about, used questions on paper to attempt to get you to sanity, sat next to you at school, and oh my gosh, I came here right now when I couldve been doing something better. So you can just shut up and listen to me. Deal? I dont get it. Youre not even my psychologist anymore. Why do you care so much? I dont. But I dont believe a word he says. He seems to notice it, because he adds in a forceful manner, I couldnt care less. Then why come in the middle of the night for somebody you dont care about? I dont care about you. He sighs. We both know its useless for him to explain; Im still going to shoot impossible questions at him. So instead, he says, Are you game? For a game of Truth, I mean. If not, youre a chicken. I narrow my eyes. Its on. If theres one thing I hate being called, its a flightless animal. Although being called penguin isnt quite as bad. Or maybe Im just being a hypocrite towards birds in general, in which case I should probably stop. But I cant bring myself to like the idea of being a chicken. Its something so humiliating, especially coming from Xaviers mouth. My blood boils. He has the superior aura around him once again. And so, the questions are fired away. Like shotguns in the middle of a hunting spree. At first, the questions are useless and silly. I learn Xavier hates potatoes, loves the colour purple and has an obsession with pineapples dipped and mayonnaise. Honestly, I dont know how this boy can manage to have a superior aura over me with that kind of preference. Maybe its something certain people can manage. Vice versa, Xavier found out about my strong opinion about mobile phones and how I leave them at school, the names of every psychologist who my mother had shamelessly paired me up with and the name of the goldfish which died after one week of staying with me Goldie. But then the questions got darker. He asked me which bridge I jumped off, and feeling a little uncomfortable, I told him the truth. And thats when I ask him the question I wanted an answer to a long, long time ago. How did you know that girls milk was off? Theres a pause. I can hear the grandfather clock in the corner, and its loud ticks. Xavier seems to be looking everywhere but at my eyes. After a couple more ticks of the grandfather clock, he sighs.

Youll laugh. No, I wont. Ill take you seriously. Promise. Fine. Im psychic. Are you laughing now? Theres a brief moment of silence, but the last thing I want to do is laugh. Theres something about the tone he used; its like he wanted to escape from his ability. I dont know why hed even think of it: being psychic must be amazing! But theres such bitterness in his tone when he admitted his secret, I wasnt sure what to do. So I just sat there, feeling like a bag of potatoes Xavier would absolutely hate. For some reason, I find myself drawing a line of comparison between the tone he used right then, and the one he used when describing where his parents were underground without a pulse. Without thinking sensitively, I say, Does this have anything to do with your parents? He his snaps up. His eyes are clouded with horror. Please dont ask. Too bad. If you expect me to expose my feelings, then so do you. Now, spill. And if you dont tell me the truth, Im going to tell you any of my life story. What makes you think I even want to know? he snaps, catching me off-guard. For a moment, my lips are twisting and curving in odd shapes, unable to respond. Not being able to choose the perfect words in a situation like this. Then I take a few deep deaths. And thats when a slow smile forms on my lips. Because you care. And, ugh, I guess I do care about you in an enemy kind of way We both stare at each other. Before I know whats happening, were both erupting in laughter. Theres something about this moment which makes me stop and think. Just slow down and think how similar we are to each other how often is it that a person knows exactly what Im thinking before I have a clue? And though hes claiming he doesnt want to tell me, that I shouldnt ask, Im still going to. Only because I know what its like to be in his situation. To have something you dont want to share with anybody, but feel the burden of having it locked up inside. If somebody has too many things stuck to their body, its going to be hard to breathe. Theyll never be able to breathe. Fine, Xavier says finally, when were well-clear from our laughing fit. Theres a reason why I became a psychologist. I wanted to help people who were like me. But Im not psychic

No, I didnt mean that. I wanted to help people who were told they needed help. Because once upon a time, I was in their shoes your shoes. I lied when I said they died recently and I lied about having a sister right now. He stops, looking at me. Do I have to continue? Yeah And I surprise myself by adding, Please. I knew something bad was going to happen. You see, Im not one of those psychics you see on television, where they can see things. I feel them. I can feel when somethings wrong, and I can sense who it might be from. But its all vague. He surprises me with how bitter his voice sounds next. So when I told my parents about my ability, they thought I was a lunatic. They sent me to a psychologist, who did nothing but say stuff like, Now, live life to the fullest when there wasnt anything wrong with me. The frustration in his voice was getting more visible, and I was tempted to tell him to stop. Stop feeding me these details. But it was like watching a car crash I dont want to see it, but I cant take my eyes off it. So I dont say anything. I just sit there, waiting for him to continue. He clearly looks confused and a little mad at himself for saying such stuff aloud. I want to tell him were both on the same train, but cant quite manage the words. So I watch silently as the words his words ramble out of his mouth before he can stop them. And one day, just before Mum, Dad and Quinn were heading out, I sensed something. It was something weird, and so I screamed for them not to go. His upper-arms are tense. Its like he cant stop himself from saying or doing anything. Hes no longer in control of his body. Do you know what my father said? He said I was insane. An useless usage of human flesh which never shouldve been born. He sighs. Given, he was going to the most important meeting of his life, and I was making him late. So he probably didnt want to say it. But he thought it. He thought it all along. So you werent lying about the car crash part, were you? No. And I take it your sister died as well. In the exact same car. All of them died at the same time. He sighs in relief, stretching his arms and turning to me. Which is why it surprised me when I said close to the exact same thing to you. About you being insane. But you were thinking it, I quote him from before. You were thinking it all along. Hes a little weary. Yeah. I was thinking it. And I know I shouldnt have said it, but I did anyway. Theres just something about you

That you hate? Yeah. But I hate it because I find it in myself as well. We both have something in common, but I cant figure out what it is. Theres a short pause. Since you shared, I guess its only fair not that I like you or anything! I add quickly, causing him to roll his eyes but smile. Its just I feel uncomfortable making you comfortable. Ah, yes. I believe its called friendship. Shut up! I know what it means. And for your information, I do have friends. I watch Xavier bite his tongue. He desperately wants to tell me how unrealistic these friends are of mine. He thinks Im mental. Isnt it a thought shared by most people? But I dont doubt myself for a moment. Thats the big difference between Xavier and me: after his father told those words to him, its obvious my blond friend believed he was insane that he really was a waste of space. And thats where the differences start. Because nothing can bring down Mimi Vivian, especially when people tell her shes insane. When people tell me how preposterous my way of thinking is, I owe it to myself to prove them wrong. To show theres nothing wrong with me, nor there ever something different. Because Im the same on the inside; same brain, same heart, same red blood. Im suddenly aware of how its past midnight. Its amazing how late it is. But instead of telling Xavier to go back home, I grin at him. He told me his story, its only fair I share mine. Even if he doesnt care or hes just doing what hed do for anybody else Im still laying out my feelings. This isnt a sign of weakness. Something Ive learnt recently is how the strongest people in the world arent the ones who keep their pain locked up within themselves. Instead, the strongest people in the world the bravest, boldest, magnificent people in the world are the ones who can share their most deepest feelings to a complete stranger. I guess that puts Xavier right up on the top. Now, its my turn to write myself on that list. Wanna go up on the roof?

CHAPTER TWELVE
Somehow, the words seemed to spill right out of my mouth. Everything Ive been holding behind; about my sudden liking for drugs, how I have to keep my reputation up and the way everybody I trust seems to die on me. Everybody I ever care for seems to be dead. They die because I love them. Its not their fault after all, whos to choose whether I adore somebody or not? So technically, its my fault. Its always my fault. And I have no idea why I told Xavier all of this information, but it doesnt make me feel better. Unlike the television shows Im used to Mum watching, I dont feel lighter after revealing my internal thoughts to somebody else. In fact, I feel heavy. Heavier than I ever felt before. Like a thousand kilos have been gained subconsciously on my body. Because the more a person spills, the less they are. Xavier has this aura with him. He has some sort of different ability to expose himself and still redeem some dignity. I dont have that I want it so desperately, but I dont have it. Instead, I just exposed myself to somebody I never thought I would. Why did I do that? Wouldnt life be a zillion times easier of Xavier didnt know all my personal thoughts and dreams? About my future hopes, which Ive hidden away so well. Until now. Because were on the rooftop, I can see the sun rising. The sky is a lighted up with the beauty of our sun. And yet, I cant feel its presence. There is no beauty in telling my secrets to somebody. A stranger, really. I havent known Xavier for long. Which is why I ask him, more of out of uncomfortableness at his intense stare, Do you have your mobile with you? Yeah. He hands it to me. My fingers are fumbling, but I somehow punch in the number of my best friend. Theres one ring. Theres another ring. Hello?

Aria? I watch Xaviers eyes widen at the sound of my best friend. Yeah, its me. Can you come over? Uhhuh. Yeah, sure. Be here in five, okay? Good. Bye. Pressing the end button, I give the phone back to him. A grin forms on my face. Ill prove shes real. I do whatever it takes to earn back the dignity I lost. First of all, exposing myself to a complete stranger isnt a smart thing to do. So I owe it to myself to make sure I dont make any morestupid mistakes I owe it to myself to prove Aria exists. Maybe Xaviers the one with the issues. Yes. That must be it. He admitted it himself; hes psychic. Maybe he cant see people when theyre right in front of them? Why not? Do you really want to do this? says Xavier, his smile fading. Its only going to be extremely embarrassing and terrifying when you realise she doesnt exist. Is this what you say to most of your patients? What? Heck, no! Id be fired by now. He grins. Only to you. Just because you have way too much pride for me to crash your soul. And as for what you said before He was obviously referring to my sudden burst of information, so I stop him with a raised hand. Dont. I think youre wrong, he says, ignoring my dont. Typical factors of the arrogant male species Im suddenly reminded why Ive given up dating and thinking about being forever alone. Everybody you love didnt die on you. Its just bad luck. Bad luck? Is that what you think? I lose my cool right then. Bad luck, my friend, happensonce. Very rarely twice. But three times? Dont you get it? Its not bad luck. Im bad luck. No, youre not. The firmness in his voice leaves me speechless. He sighs. When he looks up, he stares me straight into the eyes. That must be the most terrible thing to live with, thinking youre capable of hurting other people. Im about to protest, mostly because I dont like how pitiful he is of me. Sadness is bubbling around in my system. Hes feeling sorry for me. Why is he feeling sorry for me? I hate how around this stranger, I cant keep my mouth shut. Everything Ive been hiding away all these years has suddenly directed itself in the mind of this worthless stranger. I barely know him he knows more about me than anybody else in the world. And thats why I may have severe psychological issues, because Im not used to trusting people. Not without them getting hurt in return. Normal people can love, cuddle and trust somebody without thinking of killing them.

I cant. So does that make me abnormal? Mimi. Im about to death-glare him for using my nickname, but I somehow stop myself. Hes growing on me. I knew it from a long time ago, but now theres no way to deny it not without being the liar of the century. My eyes widen when he takes one of my hands roughly. Im about to punch him for making such a bold move, but his eyes are too sad. Too depressed. Aria shes not real. I look down. I dont want to hear this. Look at me! My head snaps up to look at him. But my teeth are grinding against each other. Dont you dare tell me Im crazy. Because let me tell you right now, you wont be the first. I have enough reminding to last myself a lifetime. Im surprised at the cold edge of my voice. Xavier, on the other hand, seems to have expected it. Then theres no point repeating myself. Tell me, did any of your other psychologists tell you about your hallucinations? My nose flares. Its none of your business! Theres a grimace on his lips, but its a smug one. One Im really beginning to hate. I never shouldve opened that door to let him in. He understands nothing. He doesnt know what its like to be me; to be considered crazy and have other people call him that. Sure, he was called worthless by his father, but so what? He doesnt have a mother who calls every mental department in the town, just so her daughter can live peacefully. When am I ever going to be heard? When am I going to be of some importance? When is somebody going to look at me like, really look at me and see Mimi Vivian? Not the girl whos psycho, not the girl who tried to jump off a bridge once, but me. Actually me. A sigh escapes my lips. Why am I feeling sorry for myself? Im really, really pathetic. Of course Xaviers never going to know what its like to be me; isnt it exactly what his job is? Try to figure out my life and then fix me, piece by piece? If so, hes doing a terrible job of it. He never shouldve entered my life. Because I feel close to tears. Uh-oh. Im going to start crying soon. This entire day has been so messed-up, Id rather not speak to anybody for the rest of eternity. For once, I swallow my pride. I have no idea what triggered it, or if Xavier was the reason I managed. Maybe Ill never know. But at the moment, I ask, What am I hallucinating about? I-I dont understand. I clear my throat, surprised at how projecting my voice sounds next. Please tell me. I want to know. He looks taken aback. A moment passes, and I wonder if hes going to tell me. Or maybe he was making up the entire thing, and hell be screaming, Gotcha! And then Id have to kill him. Or drown him. Yes, throwing him

amongst shark-infested waters sounds like a wonderful plan, seeing as theres no blood to witness. I shall definitely try that. But instead of letting me plan my wonderful killing scheme, he says, Okay. Ill start from the beginning. Arias number isnt the one you called. Its a fake one, leading to a monotone. Oliver doesnt exist. At all. Justins text message? And yes, I know this because I was Aria. You were talking to me when you thought I was her. The cheekiest grin appears on his face, but Im too gobsmacked to say anything. I watched you cry. It was entertaining. With anybody else, their teeth would be knocked out. Mostly out of my humiliation and their nerve. But I somehow manage to keep my hands limply by my sides, not daring to move. And there I sit, my eyes darkened, listening to Xavier. And the thing is, I find myself believing him. Maybe Im the sane one and hes the abnormal one? But it doesnt matter, because I realise with a gulp how much I trust him. I trust him to provide me with the right information, with justice and truth. From somebody as insecure as me, its a huge honour to be that person. And Xavier probably has no idea how special he is. Moving on. Emily doesnt exist, and people look at your weirdly in the hallways because they catch you laughing and talking to people when theres nobody there. And I reckon people were, when I got down and proposed to you on our first day, thinking why such a hottie He seizes the opportunity to run his hands through his hair in a vain way. My hand, however, is just itching to punch him. Would be seen with someone like you. Someone like me? Yup. Somebody who talks to people who arent there, he says, in such a bored expression he might as well be giving reports on a golf match. And I suppose you usually say stuff like this to your patients? He laughs. Nope. Just you. Theres a pause. And after that pause, I begin to hesitate. Im itching to ask him a question, but something tells me hes not going to answer it not truthfully, anyway. But its worth a shot. How come somebody as young as you was accepted? Into psychology, I mean. Like, nobody would let somebody as young as eighteen become one I thought youd never ask. His eyes are dazzling me with their brightness. Theres another question Ill have to ask him later. The thing is, my psychic powers seem to be pretty useful. I asked for all the exams earlier mind you, I did a lot of studying for them. I didnt cheat or anything. So I took those exams and got really good scores. Then manager of my agency well, future agency back then got a little suspicious. He called me in for an interview.

And Im guessing you could sense when he was about to ask you a hard-hitting question? Bingo. The object was that he fires very personal questions at me, and I have to reply with a poker-face. Thats not really how people pass through psychology school or anything, but its just for me. He wanted to test me out. Im guessing you won? Yup. He lies back in his chair, lazily grinning at me. I won, alright. And as for the second question: How come your eyes glitter so much? Theres a moment of pure silence. He sits up properly in his seat, cocking an eyebrow as if wondering if Im serious. When he notices the sullen expression on my face, he bites his lip to stop himself from laughing. I, on the other hand, have asked a very genuine question and is extremely annoyed at his reaction. But he answers me. Before he does, he takes his glasses off. And thats when I realise how young he looks. Around sixteen, fifteen. Somewhere in his teenage years. Without his glasses, he appears one of those teenage dirt bags and with them on, hes worshipped as one of the youngest psychologists in history. I hate how this planet chooses to calculate value and respect. Id love to live on mars at least a pair of glasses doesnt justify my value over there. Look carefully at my glasses. Sure enough, I see a tiny speck of glass tilting. See? It kind of catches the sunlight. I thought it was pretty neat. And it also makes me look older. I roll my eyes. Theres something about this moment which makes me realise how, unintentionally, Ive gotten closer to Xavier MacKenzie. Hes answering every one of my questions honestly, and vice versa. Were exposing all our heart and soul, and though Im feeling pretty uncomfortable and naked, he seems to be at ease. Like hes used to telling random strangers about his life. But I have one last question; one last one. Mum was telling me about how youre only one special cases. Like, a lot of people have tried to come to you but you rejected them. How come you accepted me? He takes his time to answer this question. I lied to you. When I said your mother caught us hugging and she might suspect me not being official was a complete lie. I just wanted to get out of the scene as soon as it happened Wait, what happened?

Theres a bitter smile tugging at the corner of his lips. I, with my tremendous psychic powers, sensed danger. Around you, I mean. Thats why I accepted the job. And as soon as it was over, I wanted to leave the scene and have an excuse. So many questions circle my mind. If he wanted to leave the scene, then why is he still here? Why is he being so uncomfortable with this question? Its like he doesnt want to answer it. But I need to know. And even if he doesnt want to tell me, I need to know. Its my business. Naturally, I repeat the same question. What happened? Only my voice is fiercer this time around; more determined to get an answer. Dylan had a crush on you for ages. If it wasnt for me, youd be killed his intention was to rape you and then get a metal pole and murder you. Theres a smile on his face, a smile hes struggling to keep. But it doesnt reach his eyes. Especially when he cheerfully adds, I guess I kind of saved your life.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It has been an entire week since Xavier admitted to the entire school he had a crush on Eliza. There were dropped jaws, girls would stare in horror and then there were times everybody would just have their eyes bulging. It wasnt a pleasant fraction, to say the least. And then there was Eliza, who seemed to have nothing to do with this sudden confession. She played with her food like always, yawning as if she didnt hear the news. And it has been an entire week since Xavier told me he saved his life. Telling isnt the best word, seeing as it lacks confirmation. The seriousness behind his words, the way his green eyes were cold in a manner Ive never seen before, makes me realise there was nothing but truth spilling from his mouth. It made me feel scared. I remember shuddering for the entire week as if forcing me to take drugs wasnt bad enough, the guy was going to rape me. And then kill me. Theres something about my blond once-psychologist I trust immediately. Instead of believing any other source, I need to hear things from him. But he was ignoring me. Actually, ignorings not a precise word; he gives rushed hellos and forced smile, but after its over, he runs after Eliza. Who always seems to be sleepy nowadays, and returns his genuine smiles with forced ones. I have the urge to slap some sense into her: Cant you see he likes you? I lack confidence, and I care about what she thinks. Mainly because she knows my biggest secret, and can expose it anytime she feels the need. It sickens me to no extent how Im allowing myself from roaming freely, all because somebody happens to know whats really going on in my life. But I ignore those feelings and force a smile on my face. And then the sensation shocks me. Loneliness. Thats what I feel when Xavier and his glasses arent around. When hes not beside me, laughing and teasing me. Just saying more statements about me being crazy that hed never do to other patients. I dont want him to see me as a patient. I want him to see me as a person a normal, healthy person. Why these sudden depressing thoughts are overcoming me, I dont know. Maybe its due to the fact Im completely lonely. My friends dont exist, for the first sign of terribleness in my life. Im slowly beginning to accept reality sinking in, seeing as it has been a whole week without signs of any of them. That text message from Justin wasnt there. Olivers cheese isnt diffusing through the entire hallways. Aria isnt teasing me about my mother calling me insane. Emily isnt giving more suggestions about Hats for Sharks campaigns. Why is that so? Because they dont exist. They never did. And its not too difficult to believe, seeing as I remember hallucinating a lot after that near-fatal jump.

According to Xavier, those drugs ecstasy tablets did so much damage that I dont hallucinate anymore. He says its the one and only good thing which came out of those drugs. Then, after saying those words, his eyes were attached to Eliza. Just watching them with awe. And it seems it was a personal, unrequited moment, so I looked away. Why does he like her? Actually, its more why I even care who he likes. Im not his mother. Hes free to chase after whichever girl he wants to. Im in math class, watching the clock ticking by. My pencil is tapping against my paper.Tap, tap, tap. The homework set in front of me will probably never be taken home, let alone done. My eyes keep flicker at the plain white clock at the front. The teacher continues to teach, disregarding the fact most of the class are struggling to keep their eyes open. All of a sudden, Im realising what Xavier meant when he said he didnt get to experience it. He probably went straight into psychology. He never told me exactly what age he started, meaning hes one of those exceptional people. Those very few people. Just in the paper, there was this guy who became a doctor at age eleven because he was so brilliant. He aced all the exams, and since he considered him worthy, age was no longer a factor. He was saving lives while other people his age were learning to kick footballs. Maybe its the same for my psychologist he left school a long time ago, just to get into the psychology business. And school seems to be something hes missing. Something which people dont want to attend, but are forced to. Something normal. Because this is such a small school, there is only one division for each grade. All year nines are in the same class, without any divisions among us. My eyes fix upon Xavier. His heads down, his blond hairs flying off. His glasses are adjusted I watch him bite his lip in concentration. All of a sudden, I feel his eyes flicker to mine. What? he mouths, but theres amusement in his expression. Im surprised at how he knew exactly who was staring at him. My face flushes. He must think Im about to propose to him or something! Nothing, I mouth back. And, just so he doesnt conclude Ill be out shopping for a ring, I mouth an extra, Your hairs too thin.

He winks at me before turning back to his work, obviously not caring the slightest about my opinion of his hair. Even though its gelled in such a spiky way, its impossible to think he doesntcompletely disregard it. I feel a tapping from behind. On my shoulder. Turning around, I see Elizas bloodshot red eyes which havent had a hint of sleep, but her mouth is smiling lazily. Tell Xavier I agree. Im confused. What? I agree. You know, his hair is too thin. Feeling a little uncomfortable, I turn to the front and whisper, Xavier. He turns to me. What? Eliza thinks your hairs too thin. He frowns for a second, as if not believing me, but then his eyes meet Elizas. She grins like a devil, tossing her dreadful hair behind her shoulder. In more of a smug way. And I have the pleasure of watching Xaviers cheeks grow red, as he turns towards the front with a childlike expression. Like a little boy with a crush. Only, he makes sure to never turn his head behind him again. Though itd be adorable though if Xavier was any other person, Id laugh laughing was the last thing I wanted to do. Especially in a situation like this, where I feel this sad. Why am I so upset? Maybe its because Im seeing him as friend-material, ever since we felt obligated to spill out our hearts that day one week ago. And all he sees me as is a crazy person. All hell ever see me as is his patient. The words sting me. Here I was, feeling alone because some stranger opened his heart to me. But Xavier didnt regret it one bit he didnt care about the consequences. He was so free to trust somebody with his secrets, so I simply had to watch him in silent admiration. Its like he never stops smiling, never stops believing theres a tomorrow. Im the opposite. Arent I the opposite? Hard-hitting, cold, a monster. Talk about the usual beauty and beast, except in reversal gender orders. When the bell rings, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Its Eliza. Again.

Tell Xavier Im going to do it, she says, forcing the it out as if she didnt want to say the word. Her throat seems dry, so I offer her a cough-drop. She accepts it gratefully, consuming it within a heartbeat. Thanks. Ive gotta go. See you around, Mimi. My heart skips a zillion beats, but Im a loyal person. I dont know what the it means. In fact, it can mean so many unpleasant things, the idea of never knowing appeals to me. A lot. But Im a loyal person. If theres one person somebody can trust, its me. So I swallow every bit of loneliness I have, and march right up to my blond psychologist. I tell him the vague sentence Eliza told me. He seems to be in his own world as he runs past me. Out the door. Despite the fact schools not over, and he may be suspended for it. And I cant say I wasnt hurt. Mimi Vivian is somebody who likes to pretend, laugh loudly, and wave hands dismissively. Im not the kind of person to admit it when something hurts me, or I feel very lost at a certain aspect of time. Its not like me. But by brushing me aside, acting as if I didnt exist. That didnt hurt. It burned. It murdered. It slaughtered my soul. My spirit. Im not angry. Im too upset, too sad, too shocked to be mad. Without thinking about the consequences, I run straight through the school gates. Because Im so unfit, its becoming a challenge, but I continue to burst through the streets without looking back. There, I see Xavier, who isnt looking back either. I cant let him know Im following him. Maybe Im going to regret being an eavesdropper later, but I cant help it. Ill be in daze forevermore if I dont know whats going on. Ill regret not invading his privacy otherwise. So the only solution is if I keep running. Keep breathing. Find out whats going and then disappear. I wont interfere. I promise myself I wont interfere instead, Ill grasp the idea of whats going on. The green bushes are rushing past me. It seems like theyre running instead of me. The blue, endless sky has no speck of clouds hung up. But my chest is heaving. So much, it doesnt take a genius to realise the sky isnt running, the bushes arent running its me. And its all for a stupid, ignorant boy who I cant stop thinking about.

When I keep following Xavier, familiarity builds up. I know this place. No, it cant be. But there was only one place I knew Id never forget. It was the bridge I jumped off. I wanted to stop at my tracks, stop myself from taking another step but something caught me. There was nothing worse than not knowing what was going to happen next. I needed to know whats going on, because I have the assumption its not going to be a pretty picture. The images flash back into my mind. Im trying to stop them. But they keep appearing. Slow, beautiful, promising. That was the water back then. It was so beautiful, so rich. I wanted to become a part of it. No. I cant think about it. My mother still thought I was insane. She would call up a zillion people for professional help. Maybe she was right. I needed to save myself; I needed to jump. Right now. Off this bridge. And when I do, everything will be over. I promised myself I never would think about this. Not ever again. Pain collides with every emotion. It overpowers all. I need to see Dad, grandma and Briony. I want to see them. Theyll be up there in heaven, and Ill be joining them. All I needed to do My hearts pacing. Shivers are travelling up my spine. Was jump. It was all a lie. The beautiful bridge was just an illusion. It was like an unrequited love of romantic fairy-tales. There was no prince charming awaiting me when I laughed; Dad wasnt there catching me, repeating his usual catchphrase of Its never too late. Briony wasnt rolling his eyes and saying the usual, As if youre capable of romantic feelings, and grandmother wasnt feeding me one of her rare compliments. There was no happy ending. Just death. And as I follow the now-sweating body of Xavier, I feel my own heart beat faster. I watch him as his hair wildly flies in all directions, and I pass people whore chatting to one another casually. None of them are spotting this wild-looking boy. None of them are realising something completely life-changing can happen this very minute.

But I know. As I watch helplessly as hes running across the wooden, boarded bridge, I realise I dont need psychic powers to predict whats hes going to do next. Hes going to jump.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Times passing very slowly in the next five minutes. I watch him reach over the railing. Hes going to stand up. Hes going to jump. I have to do something, but my feet remain stuck to the ground. Theyre unmoving, unable to take the step forward. The stop which may just save his life. My hearts pounding a zillion times in the same second, as I stand with my lungs heaving. And before I can blink, before I can think twice about what hes going to do afterwards something tells me following a random person isnt the best way to win their affection I yell out, Stop! I think he recognises my voice, because he freezes. And before he can do as much as turn around or jump off, I have my arms around his waist. Hes standing there, not sure what to do. And before I know it, he fights off my grip and lunges forward. Everythings fading to darkness. Im leaning with my back against the ground, groaning in pain. My knees are pointed directly upwards, so its easy for me to pick myself up. And when I do, I see a sight I didnt think Id see. Instead of Xavier jumping off, instead of him sitting down and realising I was right, I see his arms around a girl. The girl is Eliza, whos struggling from his grip but sobbing at the same time. My psychologist seems unfazed at her jerks to break free, and continues to hold her tightly. And then she relaxes, just sobbing more. Her hairs a in a wild mess more wild than usual and her face is covered with makeup smears. She looks like a zombie, to say the least. But I dont comment. Instead, I purse my lips and watch her crying. Nobody stops to look at the pair; nobody even realises theres a girl crying her heart out. But Im there. And the worst part is how Xavier has his eyes closed, not looking at anybody. On his mind, theres nobody but Eliza. Nobody else exists but her. So Im pretty much a rejected patient. Im somebody he got close to easily because he didnt think hed ever see me again. He wasnt supposed to be at school for this long; he said it himself the minute he saved me, he wanted to be out of the scene. But for Eliza, he stayed. He wanted to save her; maybe even claim her as his girlfriend in the process. He never wanted anything to do with me; instead, it was all just something with an obligation feeling attached. Im not about to let him hurt me. So I march straight over there. Xaviers eyes are still closed, his face buried in her hair. Internally, I resist the urge to vomit. Uh, hello? Like something struck him, his eyes open. He looks up at me with reddening cheeks and then looks down. Obviously, I caught him being mesmerised by Eliza.

He mumbles, Hello. You skipped school too? Yeah. I look down at Eliza, whos still clutching at his t-shirt. She was about to jump. She was about to commit suicide. You saved her, I say flatly. I couldnt not save her But how come your psychic powers didnt work? How come she had to tell you when she was about to jump? Mimi, can we do this? No. We cant. I want to know exactly what you see in her. Im telling you Whatre you telling me? More lies? How stupid do you think I am, Xavier? My teeth are gritting against each other, my arms are hanging loosely at the sides. Theyre clenched up into fists. But I manage to spit out, We all know she pretty much hates you! All traces of weariness disappears from his face. Instead, Im left with a cold stare. Nothing personal, just cold. Ice-cold. Liquid-nitrogen cold. And I shouldve just stayed there, just arguing to the best of my ability. I shouldve made Eliza uncomfortable for having somebody who I met first, stealing him away from me. But instead of arguing, instead of making things worse, I take the mature approach and turn back. Believe me, it was the most difficult thing Ive ever done. I wanted to spin around, shake my fist in the air and scold them to the best of my ability. My heart desired for Xavier to know how hell never find a better half-friend than me, or something whos so close to heart. Elizas nothing like him. Shes nothing like me. And me and Xavier? Were alike. Not in the fact hes a genius; well, he kind of has to be to get into a profession at such an early age. It has nothing to do with our outward appearance, because we couldnt be more further away in hair colour, eye-colour, face shape. Its not the fact hes a complete extrovert, while Im stuck on the introverted side of life. Were chasing the same thing. Were both chasing normal. *

Mums surprised to see me in the kitchen, washing dishes. Putting on heavy metal music, I begin scrubbing at every plate in front of me. Whenever Im angry, I do housework. Its a fact of life, a place of nature. Perhaps its weird from another persons point of view, but quite frankly, I couldnt care less. Mum thought it was strange to have such a hobby in fact, whenever the house messes itself up, she lists many possible ways to enrage me. But I continue scrubbing with a smile on my face. Yes. I begin scrubbing harder at the plates. That amount of scrubbing is going straight to Xaviers head. Cocking my head to the side, I wonder if Ill truly end up seeing him bald tomorrow. Ha thatll be a laugh! And then Eliza would like nothing to do with them, and Ill end up being married to The plate drops. The sound of smashing is enough to enter my ear, even with my headphones and MP3 player on full volume. My hands are petrified, unable to move. Mum hears the sound from her bedroom, and rushes over to see me. And then she rolls her eyes at the mess, and curses under her breath about never letting me do housework again. But Im too mortified with my own thoughts. Marriage? Did I honestly think that far ahead? Wait, hold on. What am I talking about? There is no far ahead with me and Xavier. In fact, I havent fully decided upon whether we should be friends or not. That should be the debate, not marriage or any romantic relationships! My heart sinks like a zillion balloons deflating at the same time. Thats right. If I let him get any closer, like a romantic relationship or family, then Ill lose him for good. Forever. Hell be sinking away underground. Maybe its best if we dont become friends. Sure, he was assuring me how he thought it was ridiculous Ive the source of death for all my loved ones. But it doesnt beat reality. Because realistically, thats exactly whats happening; Im destroying the lives of the people I love most. Smashing them into pieces and watching them rot away. I cant do that again. Its too selfish. I cant let anybody get close to me. All of a sudden, theres a knock on the door. As Im dancing around in my apron, expecting a package from the mail for my ecstasy tablets, I open the door whistling along with the screaming music plugged in my ear. Yes? I sing, opening the door. How may I? And there, standing in front of me, is Xavier MacKenzie with a hesitant smile on his face. Im just about to slam the door, but he reaches out and grabs the door handle. Hes got quick reflexes, Ill give him that. Go away, I snarl.

No. With his full force, he opens the door and walks straight in without receiving an invitation. My hands are clenching. I want to punch him straight in the face, but I think against it. He waves hello to my mother. Hello, Mrs Vivian. She smiles in return, getting a couple of cookies from the cupboard. Make yourself at home, she says, but hes already adjusting the seat level in the couch. Actually, its better if you dont, I mutter, getting a glare from Mum. I cough. Would you like a muffin? Did you spit on it? He quirks an eyebrow, clearly catching me at my game. Darn it. Im really underestimating his intelligence. Yeah, I think Ill pass. But since hes already in my house, eating away my food like theres no tomorrow, I might as well put my best efforts into humiliating him. Or making him leave. I want him to disappear and never come back, but something tells me it isnt easy with this guy. He probably knows exactly how to bypass questions and still manage to eat all my good. It must be some of the quirks of understanding the human mind. Are you going to answer my question? I say. Theres no lead-up, its just cold and sore questions flung at him. Back at the bridge. When I asked you those questions. Answer them. Now. Fine, he says with a mouthful of cookie crumbs. I wince as one of them escapes and lands on my knee. Elizas like the only exception to my psychic thingy. Like, I cant predict what shes about to do next. So it kinda makes her unpredictable. Which is why I like her cause shes different. He washes down the cookie mixture with a glass of milk. And speaking of, she kind of told us she just wanted to be friends. I grin at this. Did she give you any reason? Yeah, he grumbles. Apparently, Im not dark and mysterious enough. But I cant help it if Im open to people all the time. You know? You cant help what your personalitys like. I understand exactly what he means. But I cant help feeling relieved. If Eliza rejected him, it means its only a matter of time before he realises Im sitting here Hold on. Why am I thinking such ridiculous and sickening thoughts? Maybe I truly do have to check out my brain at the local psychology centre, because there is no way Im ever going to fall for this cookie-spitting beast. Heck, I find it hard to believe hes even human! Shaking those thoughts out of my head, I ask another question, trying to get him to leave. But something tells me hes never going to, and this is all just a waste of time. Hes one of those people who dont try to be mysterious or hates to be in the centre of attention; hes not one of those people who finds any need to keep secrets, and thats why hes so open.

He lies a lot, but with his profession, everybody would be doing the same. So out of pure curiosity, I say, How come Eliza jumped off that bridge? Her life just fell apart. To you and me, its not that bad parents divorcing, bad school grades, not being able to sleep, being ignored. But for her, its extreme. Probably cause shes used to having such a perfect life. While we end up with terrible ones, I say with a grimace, and he grins. Spot on. His grin fades a little bit. Can I test out my psychic skills? Curiosity overpowers me. Uh sure. I think. The reason you had imaginary friends was because you need people who you could trust but wouldnt die on you. Am I right? When he sees the confusion on my face, he quickly adds, I mean, I know that you didnt know it was all a hallucination, but its the fact your brain wanted somebody who wouldnt die on you. Really desperately. So when these characters came into your life, you accept them without thinking about reality. I sigh, looking down and fiddling with my fingers. Yeah. I guess. He shakes his head. Youre not going to be able to live like this. So Ive been thinking we could do an experiment. I mean, I cant sense danger on you anymore, but Im still appointed as your psychologist. I still need to try my hardest to fix you Quit blabbing and tell me. We spend heaps of time together. We become close. And I dont die. Is he crazy? Thats the one thought which pops into my mind when I hear his bold, outrageous suggestion. Maybe becoming a psychologist is too much for him, and hes finally lost his last screw. Or perhaps he has witnessed so many people get hurt, hes starting to think hes in their lives and that he cant die because hes them. Yes. That must be it. How he even came up with the idea, I have no clue. Im willing to bet even the bravest man in the world couldnt take up a challenge this big. So this means Xavier is either a complete brave person, bursting with courage and brilliance or hes just a stupid boy whos looking for time to waste, and this is his idea of spending time. Its definitely the latter. So I open my mouth. No. No. Of course Im not going to agree to this! What are you even thinking? Do you really want to die?

Fine. But if you die, please dont haunt me. I prefer to going to changing rooms alone.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Number one on the list, says Xavier, tilting his glasses a little higher to read the piece of paper in front of him, is creative writing. Trust me, if I could whack him with a pillow, I would. But its kind of hard not to feel bad when hes doing all this to return me back to normal. And to be honest, Im not sure if I mind when hes spending time with me it makes me feel less ignored. I think attentions the only reason hes not spitting out blood by now. He obviously knows I hate writing. My spelling sucks, meaning its only on the computer I can write an essay and consider it acceptable. And also, I hate my stupid handwriting which is always over the place like ink splattered on a piece of paper. Its so squishy and unreadable, making it the perfect torture. My heart skips a beat. Hes been through my diary. Youve been through my diary, havent you? I find myself accusing, blurting out the words before I can stop them. I hate creative writing! To my horror, Xaviers eyes are shining. Wow. Youre paranoid along with delusional. But do you really hate creative writing. Yes, really! He pumps his fist. Bonus! I resist the urge to knock him unconscious. But because hes trying to become my friend, I lower my hand unwillingly. Its hard to make friends with somebody like me; and if hes already dead, then its even worse. I mean, I should at least give him the slightest of chances before killing him. Actually, its more logical to think that way. No, scratch that killing somebody isnt a logical thing. But the cops will make an exception for this boring, obnoxious blond boy. Surely its not murder if its making the world a better place, right? While Im debating all these things normal people wouldnt, Xavier has already bought our tickets. Its some famous authors workshop, and hes going to show us techniques while we try to follow them. According to a proud boy-who-Im-about-to-murder, hes been there three times and thinks its the best way for us to bond. Huh. Not if I can help it.

For one, Id rather if we never get close. I wont have to live with the guilt of killing yet anotherperson in my messed-up life. Its ironic, really, how many people have died because of me. Xaviers an idiot. Hes a complete loser for wanting to do something this dangerous. I mean, if he wants to be eaten by crocodile, then get eaten by all means but when he dies, Im going to feel guilty for eternity. Were sitting in our seats, in the middle of this famous authors class. And sure enough, the young face of Graham Reader appears in front of me, a genuine smile crinkling in his eyes. Though hes directly in front, he makes the effort to look at everybody in the eye. A lot of people are in this small room; itll start to feel crowded in a minute or so. The walls are brand new and decorated with posters, promoting this certain place for other authors and future writers. It sickens me to think how people could possibly enjoy something as boring, expressionless as writing. Dont get me wrong, Ive learnt a lot about people touching others with plain, boring words. But why not turn on some music? Attach lyrics to them at least itd be more upbeat and memorable. Were going to write poems today, he says, a grin spreading through his face. The grin widens when he sees Xavier sitting next to me in the double-seats. MacKenzie! Back again, are you? And referring this young maiden, he says, pointing to me. To his dismay, I snort and purposely scratch my hair and watch bits of dust fall out. Hmm. I should really start using shampoo. Xavier sighs, defeated. Take the maiden out and replace it with horse, he says bitterly. I slap him. He slaps me back. The author or teacher just observes this with a mangling smile. Something tells me hes just like me-short-tempered, but realises he has to control it. Xavier seems to know this fact as well, so he looks up at him and does the phoniest grin. Like, hed win an Oscar for such a terrible expression. Theres a blank paper in front of me, And before I know it, all I can hear around the entire class are the scratching of pencils. Theyre in complete silence. I resist the urge to stand on the desk and holler. Xavier reads my mind, because he hisses, Dont you dare. He sighs when I stick out my tongue. Its his fault for bringing me at a place like this how does he expect me not to be difficult? Ill help you. Just write the first words which come into your mind. And then well swap later, you can laugh at mine and I can laugh at yours. The idea of him laughing at mine isnt really nice. Its a little critical, and self-centred. But if this means I can laugh at his in return, then why not? Finally, Ill show Xavier how terrible of a writer he is.

My pencil taps against the paper a couple of times. Tap, tap, tap. And suddenly, inspiration strikes me like a lightning bolt. Giggling, giggling Thats all my frightened ears Can hear from the puppet In the attic. And when I feel it edging Closer, closer Theres nothing more I see Than the sharpness of a Gleaming knife. Feeling rather proud of this poem, I cant help feeling smug. Surely Xavier would love my extensive vocabulary, with words like gleaming and edging. Ah, Ive used them so expertly! Hell be so entirely impressed. I catch myself in time. No. I dont need him to be impressed. In fact, hes a complete nobody to me. Theres no point in thinking hes a close-to-friend because hell never be more than my annoying, gel-obsessed psychologist. And Ill always be his patient, even if I do want him in the friend-zone. While these horrifying thoughts are circulating my brain, I dont feel the tapping of him tapping on my upperarm. In fact, Im so deep in thought I forget how silent this room is; how there are people who require every inch of their concentration. I yell out, What? Instantly, I receive glares and an eruption of shhhs. Then there are others whore cursing under their breath. I gulp. Ill have to check under my bed for monsters tonight. The boy sitting beside me rolls his eyes and passes his poem over to me. We had a deal. I nod and pass over mine. Dream like forever

Escape from the blindness You live in right now. It must be beautiful It must be splendid, ingenious Too bad you cant see it. Its obvious Xaviers referring to a blind man or woman in this poem. But somehow it catches my heart. Why is this poem making me feel dizzy? Like the suffering Id endure if I was in that persons position, without a single thing to see. My hearts skipping beats. Oh no. Goodness, no. I think Im touched with words. Not music, not speech, but plain words on a paper. Granted, Im not the book-reading kind in fact, I havent read more than two novels this year. I still struggle with vocabulary and spelling of complex words, making me groan the minute were forced to read or even worse, write. This poem Im sure a million others have been written similar. In fact, by the way all human minds are connected in one way or another, maybe there is a poem exactly the same as this one. But Xavier wrote this one. Somehow, it makes all the difference. Unfortunately, Xaviers not marvelling over my amazing vocabulary. Hes laughing like a complete maniac. I begin wondering, a little worried, if I misspelt any very simple-to-spell words. Its probably what hes laughing like an idiot for. But then why is he shuddering at the same time? Its the most bizarre sight; seeing a boy shudder and laugh at the same time. And before I can ask him what hes laughing at, he answers my question with, Count on you to write something worthy of scaring little children. He ruffles my hair. Bad move. We both watch awkwardly as a clump of dust falls on my desk.

Uh could you do humanity a favour and wash your hair? says Xavier, his eyes still not leaving the particles piled on the desk. Yeah. I stifle a guffaw. Ill do the world a favour just this once. * He blinks. Once, twice and thrice. Were in the kitchen, even though its past ten oclock. Mum already went to bed, a little surprised when Xavier came with me. She was even horrified to see a smile on my face. But she doesnt have any idea how much Im torturing him. Oh yes. I shall push him to his limit until hes had enough, and then hell have to leave. Then I wont feel guilt if he dies without my help. Its a win-win situation, really. Except the fact hes being tortured this very minute. Were creating a new ice cream flavour! I declare, a hint of warning to show I wont take no for an answer. Actually, Im making the flavour and youre going to be the tester. Actually, I dont think Do you want me to purposely set Eliza up with somebody else? Where do we start? The mixture, from my eyes alone, looks so hideous Im tempted to pour it down the sink; save this poor, wretched boy from eternal death. But I have to realise Im saving his life, even if it means permanently damaging his taste-buds. The hospital may put me under arrest, but Im just saving his life doing whatever it takes to help him. Im his average lifesaver only, he doesnt know it yet. And in front of me is the most disgusting flavour of food Ive ever witnessed. There is a mixture of tomato sauce, onion skin, radish, cheese and salty crackers all thrown into the blender. How the blender didnt erupt and cause sparks for this hideous experiment is beyond my knowledge. Xavier looks at it and swallows. He probably never thought of creating a will hes definitely considering it now, judging by how pale his skins going. Uh, shouldnt you try it first? Xavier asks, but it sounds more like a squeak. I wave my hand dismissively. Dont be silly its too risky. Theres no point in both of us dying.

He death-glares me. And I can see his eyes twitching, as if he wants to throw his profession down the drain and run out of this house. Hes probably debating how long the mixture will last in his mouth before it consumes him alive. It shouldnt take very long at all. My lips form into an evil grin. Who knew saving a life could be so fun? To my horror, he swallows one more time. His feet are turning so theyre pointing towards the mixture. My jaw drops. Hes not running away screaming, which can only mean hes going to try it! A genuine save of concern fills me. What if he dies? What if he ends up buried under a pile of mucus, after his body cant take the mixture any longer. Will I end up in jail? Whats more, would he follow me to jail so he can continue our experiment? Rotting away in jail shouldnt be any persons ideal place to die. Unfortunately, hes not considering any of those things. I watch in horror as he spoons the mixture, raises the spoon and then puts it in his mouth. He swallows, his eyes squeezed shut. Everything is spinning around. I shouldnt have tried to save his life by killing him what kind of a lifesaver am I? And whats worse, hes not responding. Oh no, why isnt he throwing this mixture up? Why isnt he? Its actually not that bad, he says thoughtfully, taking another spoonful. I cant watch this madness any longer. Im going to sleep. Feeling horrified, I trudge towards my bedroom with hopes of never seeing his face again. Oh goodness, help me and never cross our paths its too much to bear. How can something which looksthat disgusting be not that bad? Thats the questions which haunts me as I brush my teeth, change into my pyjamas and tuck myself into bed. Im hoping he has enough common sense to leave the house. Turns out, he doesnt. Especially when my door opens and he peers at me through the darkness. Ive already switched off the light, so he hasnt seen me staring at him. Instinctively, I close my eyes and pretend to sleep I even throw in a couple of snores here and there to make it appear more convincing. If possible, I can feel him hesitating. Why is he still in my room? My eyebrows subconsciously pull into a frown when I feel something on my cheek. Like a fly landing or something. So pushing aside all my false sleeping, my eyes flitter open to reveal Xaviers lips touching my cheek. He seems taken aback at my sudden opening of my eyes, and I begin wishing I never did. Why didnt I accept it was a

random bug and become too lazy to swat it away or open my eyes? And the thought extends more with his own mask of horror. Especially when he quickly picks himself up and marches towards the exit. What was that for? I call after him, when hes three steps away from the exit. This causes him to stop at his tracks. He doesnt turn around, so Im facing his back. Dont worry. Go to sleep. And without another word, hes out of my room, leaving me more gobsmacked than ever.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
What happened yesterday night is completed discarded. Especially since I shouldnt worry about it he said so himself, didnt he? Anyway, its no big deal. Xavier just kissed me on the cheek and I suddenly feel the urge to vomit. Yeah. No big deal, just the fact my psychologist might be in love with me. The idea makes me even more sick to the stomach, and before I know it, Im vomiting in the front yard. All over Mums garden bed. Feeling the last bit of sick erupt through me, I quickly race into the house and wash my mouth out. Ive got to stop thinking about it. Its driving me insane about what I dont know, and the many ways it can be interpreted. Maybe he just saw me as his little sister, and was tucking me into bed Yes. That must be it. Why am I so obsessed with the idea he might like-like me? Thats impossible. A psychologist and his patient? What a laughable, terrible idea. Its pretty much asking for everything abnormal. Which brings me back to what was on our timetable, and Im suddenly aware I need to meet him at the soccer field. Were going to do more bonding activities, but in my opinion, weve already bonded by the way he kissed me on the cheek I feel more sick at the stomach. Theres something about getting romantically involved with Xavier which makes me sick literally to the stomach. It makes me want to shout out to the world about how unlucky I am. I am bad luck, arent I? It doesnt matter whether hes dead or not, its the fact he might like me romantically Uh-oh. Okay, thats it. Im going to stop thinking about Xavier and last night this instance. Theres no way Ill be able to get through the day with last night stuck in my head, like the remaining of peanut butter caught at the bottom of a jar. I need to be strong and independent like I always am and pretend its all a dream. Actually, how do I know it wasnt a dream? All these thoughts are circling my head as I walk towards Xavier, whos standing awkwardly with a soccer ball in his hands. He doesnt have his glasses on, and Im beginning to realise theyre actually reading glasses he doesnt really need them. So its safer to not wear them in a sport like soccer. Although my sports teacher claims its a game where nobody gets hurt, a lot of paralysed soccer players prove me wrong. But I cant get over how small his eyes look in comparison to his face. In fact, he reminds me of somebody younger than me, though its completely ridiculous. Hes two years older, for crying out loud! I shouldnt be thinking hes younger than me, because its definitely not true. He can be my older brother; and I can be his mental, insane sister.

Oh, what a pair. Definitely memorable. I ask him the question which floats around my head the most. Did you kiss me on the cheek last night by any chance? Theres an awkward silence. Then he breaks it by sighing. He then somehow turns the entire conversation to soccer, making no way for me to speak. And therefore, I never get my answer. My stomach is doing flips. Guess it only means I was right although for once, I wish I wasnt. It wouldve been much easier if Id never caught Xavier in the act. But lifes cruel; makes me see things Id rather not see. Which is how Aria and Emily are running towards me, their eyes widened and their mouths twisted into a smile. I know they dont exist, but I cant help seeing them. There was one point where I couldnt see them anymore, and that was due to the ecstasy. However, ever since the drugs left my system completely, Im beginning to see my invisible friends once more. And theyre looking so happy, its a change from my tense, does-he-like-me-romantically thoughts revolving my mindless head today. Its good to see people whore happy. They run up to me and wrap me in their arms, and I giggle along with them. Xavier stops talking and looks up at me with his jaw dropping in horror. Hes probably wondering who Ive killed this time, but his mouth isnt moving. The soccer ball drops from his arms. Are are you okay, Imogen? he says, his eyes still widening. I laugh. Of course! Why not? Hey, youve met Aria Only then do I realise how they dont realise. Darkness falls on my enthusiastic expression. Theyre not real, after all. Xavier probably thinks Ive gone completely insane. But why can I still see them, circling me as they chant poems Ive learnt in sixth grade. Theyre the ones who understand me more than any other human maybe its because they dont exist at all. And because of that, I feel comfortable with them knowing every aspect of my life. Maybe theyre not real to anybody else. But to me, its just like looking at another human being. If it wasnt for Xavier telling me they didnt exist, I wouldve never believed him. Aria is now telling me about how my name rhymes. Imogen Genevieve Vivian. What kind of poor child ends up with a name like that? Obviously me. Suddenly, Im reminded of the day Oliver brought the same concept up. And then Xavier answered back with the same, Apparently, her mum likes tongue-twisters conclusion everybody else arrives at.

Remember there was a time where Oliver was telling me about my name. Hes looking at me blankly. I sigh. He was telling me he didnt believe my name was real. And then you said something about my mother liking tongue twisters. But you cant see Oliver, so how did you? A look of recognition appears on his face as he nods. Oh yeah. I remember. You pretty much mutter what your friends say under your breath. So I didnt have too much trouble catching up. He makes a face. Now, dont let your friends get in the way were playing soccer even if it kills you. I gulp at his last statement he added. Thats right he has no mercy. I can die in front of him and hell just shrug and step all over me. A carpet; its what he sees me as. It does sound a little insulting, even to my own ears. But theres no turning back. I shouldve never told him about my theory of bad luck. Stupid psychologists they think they know everything. Especially how theyre pretty much scientists in their own way. Theyre trying to save their patients from further mental pain. Which I dont think Id be able to do, no matter how much money was up. Im not the empathy-feeling kind. So Im pretty much an experiment. I sigh. According to Xavier, Im not even dignified enough to be classified as a human. My lifes pretty much over. I shall just go marinate in shame and disapproval. With my heart leaping, I stand in front of the goals and nod. The urge to squeeze my eyes shut appeals to me, but I realise its best to open my eyes when catching a ball. Xavier kicks the ball as hard as humanly possible, hitting it straight in my guts. I double over in pain. And humiliation. Tears sting my eyes. Who knew I was this easy to bring down? My blond acquaintance has both his hands covering his mouth as he runs towards me. He stirs me like Im some sort of broken clock, and hes just hearing for the jingling sound. I groan at the sound of my own defeat, sitting up but still feeling pain. Theres no way Id be able to stand up. So much for his bonding plans. Suddenly, I smile evilly. Thats right I completely destroyed his little ploy. I completely ripped his experiment into two halves. Theres no way hell be seeing me as a mental patient anymore. But then I realise hell look at me as a failure instead, so my enthusiasm fades into glumness. Cmon. He pulls me up on my feet, and when Im about to topple over, he puts his arm around my waist. I hiss at him like a snake. Startled, he quickly removes his arm. This proves to be a bad idea, because I end up yelping like a hurt puppy and falling on the floor anyway. Uh sorry, he calls. Even though hes only standing up and Im lying (unintentionally) on the ground, his voice seems light-years away. Were going to do something less dangerous.

After about twenty minutes, I feel enough energy in my body to stand up. I dust off all imaginary dust and groan. He looks at me with a guilty expression as we trail all the way back to my house to get an ice-pack. If only he didnt hit me with such a kick itd be written in the Guinness World Records I wouldnt admit defeat. Im repulsed at the idea of me toppling to the ground. That showed, immediately, how weak I was. Why couldnt I catch that ball and stop the underestimating eyes of Xavier MacKenzie? I mean, he already thinks well, knows Im insane. Shouldnt there be some justice for any other weaknesses to slip up? Theres no way Im going to let him win this unintended war. Use me as a target, will ya? I snap at him. The expression on his face reminds me of a deer stuck in headlights. Maybe its my bulging eyeballs and the crooked way Im walking, like a witch. Or perhaps I caught him off-guard by talking abruptly midst a silence. But from now on, hes my puppy and Im his master. And not a very merciful one of that. * Were doing what? I cant disguise the disgust in my voice. Um, isnt it my turn to choose a bonding activity? No. His voice is so cold, it catches me off-guard. In fact, its still my turn. Mainly cause I wasnt the one who tumbled over after a slight kick. A slight? Okay, fine. It wasnt that light. But you didnt have to get knocked over. Now, cmon. His impatient side was getting attached to me. To this moment. And yet, I cant help grinning like a complete idiot. When he turns around, he narrows his eyes. What are you grinning at? Bowing my head, I hide the extra smugness on my face. Hes standing there, his arms folded and reminding me a stubborn toddler refusing to attend play-group. Its kind of scary, but hilarious at the same time. If thats even possible. Aria and Emily are behind me, discussing something about the latest horror movie coming out. But I ignore them and look up, looking Xavier straight in the eye. Unfortunately, I cant do that without bursting into laughter. Alert shines in his eyes as the relaxed manner drops, and his arms are tensely by his sides. The glasses which werent on for the soccer match were now shielding his glassy eyes.

It just makes me laugh harder. Finally, after his annoyed expression begins fading, I say, Its nice to see the real Xavier. The real? Dont play stupid. Youre impatient, quick-tempered and extremely bossy. Arent you,Xavier MacKenzie? His mouths moving so many times a minute, like he has a zillion things to say. But its like somebody muted him and pressed fast forward. Mainly because his mouths moving, however, not a single sound comes out. He finally gives up, exhaling a lot of air. And then he looks up at me and smiles crookedly. Whats with the extra malice in my name? No reason. But I gotta admit, its a wonderful name. He raises an eyebrow wearily, waiting for the punch line. I give it to him. For the devils assistant. Sticking his tongue out at me, I begin debating if he truly is an adult he surely doesnt act it. But I return the gesture with a loud raspberry at the same time. Ah, how I love displaying the mature side Mum would be so proud. And then shed never think of me as mental anymore. I snort internally. Yeah, right itll give her more reason to send me to another mental house. Suddenly, the cheery expression on Xaviers face changes into a sly one. Dont change the subject. Were still doing the other bonding activity. I sigh as I allow myself to be pulled away. At least I tried to get out of it.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
How has my humiliating life resorted to door pranking? Well, Im not sure theres a proper definition for this bonding activity, but we have to ring a doorbell and run before the person opens it. Its a very stupid yet difficult task. Especially if the victim has miles of space between their door and a hedge, tree, etc. How the idea of doing something so time-wasting is beyond me. Xavier is completely irrational in this area of life. I watch hesitantly as he demonstrates how it should be done. He looks left and right for people and runs straight towards the door. My eyes squeeze shut immediately, because although I know hes not going to charge through, I still believe he could. And then his brains will splatter all over the poor strangers building, and Ill be the one cleaning it up. Its funny how the only thought circulating my mind if Xavier supposedly dies, is how Ill be forced to clean up his remaining organs. What a wonderful human being I am. A couple chattering to each other and a small dog on their leash are walking by. They look at Xavier and walk away quickly. I cant blame them, because as well as looking young without his glasses, he also reminds me of a Martian sent from the deepest of the solar system. His face is too thin, too scary for a normal human being to witness. Yet, I dont think its half-bad. Which clearly stretches my abnormal-ness to the maximum. He rings the doorbell. The door opens, revealing a half-drunk man with a Mohawk. The thick whiskers around his mouth clearly indicate he hasnt been shaving for many days, and the unfashionable clothes which Emily wouldnt wish on her worst enemy shows he doesnt care about what he wears. I shudder at the sight. Whats more, hes one and a half the size of Xavier. Poor, poor psychologist. I watch from the hedges as he gulps. But my mouth curves into a smile. It serves him right for suggesting such a terrible task. What does he think I am, an elephant? Possibly so. Hes getting a taste of his own medicine, and by the way hes swallowing as well as sweating like a pig, its obvious hes not enjoying this new job. I sigh. If he dies, Ill be charged with manslaughter and a witness. Thatll mean Ill have to cut out on my dance classes just to go to court, and were practising for the grand finale. Although it hasnt been a major part of my life in fact, I dont remember the last time Ive taken dance lessons, even though it shouldve been in the last week its still going to affect my life in some way or another.

Silently, I smile. Xaviers right I really dont think about anybody but myself. Guess Im determined to prove him wrong. When I stand up, I look up at the house-owner and give my best smile. The best I possibly can without it looking fake. Then I babble on and on about how we want to supply him with lotto tips, which immediately holds his attention. With his mouth slightly agape, my psychologist is giving me a look or horror, mixed with relief and a thankyou. Together, we make up the amazing techniques for winning the lottery, while the man scuttles around his room for a notebook. He comes back puffing, his mouth exposing large brownish teeth, as he takes down our fabulous notes. I have no idea why hes believing us, but I guess adults need something to put their faith in. Even if theyre complete strangers without the slightest clue of whats coming out of their mouths. Then Xavier finishes off our Nobel-Prize-Worthy act by adding, In conclusion, these weeks numbers are I dont quite remember what he said. Instead, Im too busy trying not to burst out in a fit of giggles. How convenient of me to have a psychic friend who can sum it all up with his powers. With his amazing ability, its possible he The man grunts in approval as he slams the door in our faces. I guess its his own version of a simple thankyou. As were walking to our next door to prank, I look at Xavier curiously. I never knew you knew the lottery numbers I dont. But how? Theres this thing called lying. You should try it sometime. Im still gaping at him when he grins at me and continues walking. Internally, I gulp at how terribly my life has flown. The next time I see that guy, hes not going to be as friendly unless throwing somebody into shark-infestedwaters can be classified as an act for building relationships. Xavier, on the other hand, is walking with his hands behind his head, his elbows sticking out from the sides. Were going to go to somebodys door and prank them. What if they turn out to be an axe-murderer? Something tells me theyre not going to catch us however, Xavier got caught despite being the one to raise this despicable ploy. Its just a sad world when nothing goes according to plan; and an even sadder one when I have somebody with glasses, controlling y every move.

I thought feeding him that fatal bowl of ice-cream would scare him off for life. Unfortunately, hes not that easy to scare. I grumble under my breath. Some luck I have even when I break out of my little shell to tell somebody Im dangerous, they disregard me without even listening twice. We arrive in front of a house with russet bricks and a wide front yard. But its so crowded, it looks more like a museum. A terribly decorated museum. Especially with the gnomes sitting here and there, three fountains and the enormous amount of flowers too many to be considered pretty. But Xavier doesnt go to the front door. Instead, he stands there with admiration in his eyes. For the slightest of seconds, I thought he was a complete lunatic. Who in the name of strange would like something as scattered, as messy as this house? And whats more, its about three blocks away from mine. It makes even more sense for me to dislike it. When my psychologist casually says, Ah, thats Elizas house, I realise why were standing here. Hes a lovesick puppy who still hasnt gotten over his major crush. But it makes me feel so lonely inside, knowing hes in love with somebody else. Sure, hes hanging out with me and everything, but Im never the only person on his mind. Im never his number one. Second place is all Ill ever know, so theres no point trying to fight it. This Eliza she won his heart somehow. I dont how she did it, but shes definitely one to be admired. She made this impatient, bossy and optimistic boy fall in love with her. Realising what terrible thoughts Im having, I shake my head a zillion times a minute. I feel Arias hand on my shoulder, assuring me. Shes always there. Always there for me. And then I feel Emilys hand on my other shoulder, and feel I can stand up forever. Without falling, without failing. Because I have two people holding me up, even if they dont exist. Although theyre figments of my imagination, I still cant predict what theyre about to say next. This is exactly why I never even dreamed of them not existing; if I cant predict them, doesnt that automatically make them human? Another soul, having no connection with me? There are chills running up my spine when Arias grip tightens. You like him, dont you? she whispers, her voice a soft warm breath against my ear. But theres a edge to her voice. As if shes accusing me. Stop liking him. Hes dangerous. Hes going to get you killed. But you dont exist. Thats how I regain my strength, feeling a lump in my throat. I push Aria down and watch her tumble soundlessly towards the floor, uninjured. How can she be injured in first place? She doesnt even exist. Theres no part of her anywhere in the world except in my imagination. And thats where she belongs in my imagination, and having no connection to the real world ormaking me think she does.

She cant tell me what to do. Theres a difference between talking to imaginary friends and them talking back. A typical child would boss their imaginary friend around, taking them everywhere. They would make the choices, set an extra spoon for the figment of their imagination to eat. It is, however, a completely different case when they start talking back; when they start making choices for me. I wont let them. I wont let them take over my life, no matter how much of my heart Ive given away. It doesnt matter if they did exist, because somebody shouldnt have the power to control my every move. Yes. Nobody should have such a dominating power. Which is why I stand up tall and declare Im leaving. And before Xavier can take his glued eyes of Elizas house possibly hoping she would come out and declare her dying love to him Im already walking. Fast, stumbling steps towards my house, three blocks from here. He shouldnt be able to make me do what he wants to do, either. Maybe he wants us to become closer. But it doesnt matter, because Im not going to let him die. According to Aria, however, Im the one whos going to be injured if I spend another second longer What am I talking about? Why is Aria, my imaginary friend, controlling what Im thinking? The possibility of Xavier being able to hurt me? Oh, please him with his big round glasses and slightly crooked nose cant hurt a fly. Or an ant. Or anything, really. I should stop bringing myself to such stupid conclusions. Suddenly, I feel a tug behind me. Thinking its my psychologist, I turn around and manage a frown on my face. Immediately, the expression disappears when I find myself face-to-face with a grimacing policewoman. She looks so familiar Are you Imogen Vivian? My heart leaps. Uh yeah I mean, yes. Have you been harassing that man down at that house? My visions blurry from shock and worry, but I manage to dart my eyes to where shes pointing. Shes pointing at the door Xavier gave his expertise numbers to. The one we just pranked without thinking of the consequences. The owner reported you. Now, Im not going to arrest you or anything I just want to give you a clear warning. I believe another boy was with you? Theres something really odd about this policewoman. Theres something so familiar about her. I read her nametag and realise there isnt any Amberleigh in my life. Especially not spelt in such a girly way. But why does she look so familiar? She looks nothing like anybody I know in my life, however, she reminds me of everybody. Does that even make sense? Unable to speak properly, I nod my head. She continues, If you could just tell me where he is, Id like to have a chat with him. Do you know where he lives?

Theres something odd about the way she directly asked where he lives. A sudden feeling of suspicion swells up in my stomach. Shes a policewoman surely she can just look him up in the phonebook, or just look him up on the police database? Im sure its a privacy-invasion to casually ask for somebodys address while claiming shes a policewoman. Even so, I genuinely dont know where Xavier lives. It strikes me odd how he knows so many people and their addresses, but I dont know his. Maybe its just me, however, it seems as if hes trying to hide his location from the world. Why havent I had the slightest of clues about where he lives? Hed tell me to meet up in areas, never inviting me to his house. Theres something odd about that. Something very off. Truthfully, I shake my head and watch the womans face grow ten years older. She fakes a smile as she gives a quick wave before walking in hard, stomping steps away from me. Until I cant see anything but a casual figure. Xavier wasnt anywhere to be found. He knew exactly when to disappear, not leaving a single trace of ever being here. Even Im beginning to wonder if he was with me all along, or if it was just a hallucination. But he was here. He was definitely here. However, something caused him to turn away and pretend he wasnt. So in conclusion, theres something about Xavier MacKenzie I dont know. Right then, I realise exactly what he is to me. He isnt a friend, he isnt family. Hes not a hallucination or an animal. And hes definitely not a romantic interest, hes not an item like a television or computer. Hes a stranger; a complete, utter stranger.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Xavier and I are sitting on the couch, as far as possible from the other. Another day has passed, and the darkness has approached us. The streetlights are gleaming through my window, reminding me how night-time has snuck up on me. Its strange, because Im usually the first person to notice when the sun sets. But today has been such a busy day, I didnt even realise when the day ended and the sun buried itself among the water. Among the horizon. The entire day flashes beyond my eyes; Xavier getting a toy gun and squirting me with water, him dumping an entire bowl of ice cream on my perfect hair and the horrors of ending up following him, because he threatened to tell everybody at school how I was a nice person. If word got around, people would want to get close to me. And when they do, Ill be cradling back and forth, just waiting for the horrors to chase me for them to drop dead on the ground, none of their muscles working. Because, after all, Im the most terrible luck in all of history. I should never have been born heck, wouldnt my mother love that? Shed have a chance to attend that art school she always wanted to, but couldnt because it requires a lot of dedication and time. Both which are things she couldnt manage while surviving a baby the crying, the sleeping, the screaming. She mustve gone mad. I personally think it was dumb of her to get herself pregnant so early, but nobody listens to me. Im never heard. Theres an awkward silence as we both sit there, neither of us knowing what to say. Hes looking away from me. Im trying not to look at him. Basically because I marched up to Elizas house and knocked on her door, while Xavier was still chasing after me, begging me to not tell her anything. But as she opened her door, her expression a little surprised after all, she definitely wasnt expecting me I yelled out, Xavier loves you! and ran away. Naturally, Eliza was blushing like crazy as she mumbles something before softly shutting the door. Xavier had a horrified expression, mixed with pure embarrassment. On the bright side, if hes not talking to me, hell be useless as a psychologist. Therefore, hell have to stop this madness he calls bonding. Because I sure dont want to bond with him. The sofa were sitting on is blood red, with little tears and sponge squeezing out of them. It makes me wonder why Mum never buys any new stuff, and always relies on the op-shop to buy her furniture. Shes never been the type to think about money; after all, she pretty much offered a milliondollars to Xavier if he could get me back to normal. But now as hes not really my psychologist, and he pretty much doing all this bonding business because he wants to, the deals off. Which is stupid, because if I were him, Id run towards a patient with a lot of money than one with actual problems. Hes really dumb when it comes to business; someone should seriously show him how its done.

Xaviers the first to speak, Whyd you do that? Knock on Elizas door like that, I mean. I have the answer already. Because somebody needed to tell her. You didnt really tell her, did you? Theres a pause. A short silence as he sighs. No. No, I didnt. All I said was, What would you say about me? and she laughed and said I wasnt mysterious, like an open-book and too optimistic for her tastes. Despite feeling its wrong, I begin laughing. Hooting at the top of my lungs. Xavier looks at me like Ive gone insane, wondering whether he should stop me, cut me into two pieces or laugh with me. After all, I completely dont mind the second option he has every right, especially after Imlaughing at his problems. How Im not dead this very instant stuns me. As if the heavens suddenly found good in me, he doesnt take the second option. Im going to live a little longer than a teenager who knows, I might even become an adult before somebodyreally hates me and slaughters my spirit. Unfortunately, he doesnt take the third option, either. Instead, he puts his hand over my mouth. Whatcha tryin to do? Call the police over? Youre so dumb. Arias suddenly in front of me, grinning. Hes calling you dumb. The grin disappears. Why arent you slaughtering him by now? When Oliver called you Mo for Monster, you pretty much had him ripped up into two. When my eyes dart around, I see Emily. Her lips curling up in disgust. She obviously is asking the same question as Aria, only, Im not sure how to respond. To either of them. Theres something about this situation which makes me feel ashamed, so I bow my head to prevent looking at their disgusted faces any longer. Life turns out to be very hard when my imaginary friends begin judging me. But Xaviers not a fragment of my imagination hes real. Although I cant tell reality from fantasy, I cant predict my own thoughts and hallucinations, theres something about him which makes me realise hes not a fake. Hes right there; hes right there in front of me. And he has this real scent attached. A stench of human which cannot be found on any of my imaginary friends. And because hes real, I take a deep breath. Because hes trying so hard to get me back to normal regardless of whether he receives a reward, I feel sorry for him. Hes trying so hard. But when is he going to realise Im impossible to get through? So I make it possible. Do you want honesty? Yeah. Theres uncomfortableness in his voice, mixed with curiosity. Sure. My imaginary friends are judging me for not uh killing you by now.

To my surprise, he begins laughing. Its like my laugh is contagious, only a good five minutes and confession later. Which makes me wonder why I told him in first place. When he begins laughing, I scowl. And then I feel like hitting myself, because there are times where admitting honesty isnt the best option. But after ten seconds into his endless laughter, I begin smiling myself. And I dont regret telling him, all of a sudden. Its okay, he says between fits of laughter. Hes right. Im not normal, Im not perfect. My life may have been nothing but a lie, and everything always goes wrong. My bad luck has affected so many people in my pathetic life, and I begin wondering why Im still breathing still laughing, still living when its my fault so many people have lost their lives. But as Im beginning to realise, its okay. Im okay. * Theres something about the wind blows. The direction, the breeze. Nothing can quite make my dark hair tousle or my eyes to close in the most peaceful of ways. These are the thoughts circulating my mind as I sit down, just staring across the waters. Because its night-time, Im almost expecting a stranger to find me. And then theyll scold me about sitting at a beach in the dark, alone. But I wouldnt care. Id only pretend to leave and find myself another place to rest. There is nothing more relaxing than the soft waves of the sea, clashing and banging together and clawing at the sand. Always, a little of the sand is taken back into the water. There is never the same amount of sand on the beach. Because the tide isnt high, the sounds begin to fade into the distance. I simply watch this with my hands around my knees and my feet planted firmly on the ground. Its been so long since Ive sat here. My eyes dart over to a bridge, floating across the beach. Its not a place for vehicles, nor can it hold more than a certain amount of weight. But its enough for me to remember it forever. The handles are made of rope, the stepping path is made of solid wood. Despite being a bridge over a sea, its extremely safe. There are safety nets under the handlebars, connecting to the side edges of the stepping path. This was the bridge I jumped from. Maybe it should hold more of a significant meaning, but I cant find any other reason why Id remember this. The irony of the whole situation is how the bridge is guarded to be safe. But what can the builders do with people whore willing to jump off under their own will?

Nothing. Nothing but the awkward, Sorry. We couldnt save her. People believe there should be more freedom of speech, but I believe there is enough. We can choose whether we want to die, when we die, and how we die isnt it enough control? Although we cant choose how long we live, we can control our death if we wanted to. If we really wanted to die, its easy. All it takes are a couple of pills, maybe some fire. Or even a silent jump. I remember when I stood at the bridge, my arms spread out beside me. A zillion thoughts ran through my mind, adrenaline flowed through my blood. I was going to jump off this bridge. And I wouldnt care what happened or who cared. Because nobody can stop me from ending my own life; I have that much decency in myself. The way I jumped reminded me of a bird, only I wasnt flying. I was flapping my arms, my wings, to try and keep myself in the air. I wanted to fly one last time, but I didnt get a chance before being knocked breathless. It wasnt like I imagined it to be. In my wild fantasies, I imagined a lifetime of beauty. The beautiful blue water would kindly swallow me, but lead me to another world. A wonderful, magical world. Somewhere I could be close to people somewhere I could find love and family and not have the bad luck chasing after me like a disease. It was nothing like that. It was nothing like the paradise I dreamed, longed for. It was a lifetime of blackness, murky waters and dark skies. I remembered gasping, calling for help and wishing for somebody to save me. After a couple of minutes, I was knocked unconscious by the coldness of the water. The rest of my adventure was erased from my memory, and I still have a blank spot from what happened. Mum said some rescue crew was lucky enough to float past and see a body floating on the surface. They carried me out and I ended up in hospital with minor injuries. How I survived is still beyond me. I shouldve died that day. This very minute shouldnt be liven by me. It was all a nightmare, and yet, I felt this sense of accomplishment. Curiosity disappeared from my life instantly I no longer want to fly anymore, because I know its impossible. There are some things which everybody knows are impossible, but it doesnt stop them from trying. For me, it was trying to fly while I was falling. But maybe I did fly that day. I didnt completely fall, because Id be dead by now. I flew a little. Not too much, but a little. It was enough to keep myself alive. Thought youd be here, says a voice from behind, startling me. Xavier has a smile on his lips but no glasses. His eyes are sleepy. Cmon. Lets go. Your mums worried.

Worried? Its midnight already. You arent home. So she called me in the middle of the night and asked if I knew where you were. Lemme guess: psychic powers? I roll my eyes. Sometimes, you make abnormality look good. He doesnt say anything to this. Instead, he starts walking towards my house. Theres a stride in his step, like hes trying to avoid me. This infuriates me. So naturally, I almost sprint to catch up to him and his grimacing face. The darkness of the sky makes me realise how alone I was, and at the same time, I cant help noticing little specks of light streaming through the clouds. Its almost as if theres still hope left amidst the darkness. Suddenly, he stops. It wasnt psychic powers which helped me find you. It wasnt? No. I think ugh I know you too well. I just kinda knew youd be here, but I dont know why. Although this would be the best news to a normal person, I feel my heart deflating. Almost every girl in the world would squeal at this statement, or if theyre the more relaxed type, theyd smile on the inside. Having somebody who knows me inside out would be the most romantic, most amazing thing in the world. If I was normal, that is. But something Ive learnt over the years is how far away from normality I am. Far, far away. I have the worst luck, almost like a curse, set upon me. A shadow version which will destroy everyone who has ever cared about me. Ive learnt I shouldnt trust people; Ive learnt Im capable of killing. In a couple of weeks, Xavier will die a painful death. And I cant do anything to stop it.

CHAPTER NINETEEN
I keep repeating the names of my imaginary friends, over and over again. To be honest, Im hating the amount of laughter Xaviers throwing at me actually, itsbeyond laughter and heading towards hysteria. Were on the couch at my house, mainly because I have no idea where he lives, and watching the sunset. From the window, of course. Neither of us can be bothered standing up and moving towards the balcony to get a better view, so distant beauty it is. The thing is, Xavier still doesnt believe the whole bad luck thing. So Im repeating my imaginary friends names, talking to them when theyre not there noting they dont exist in first place, but Im pretending to talk even when my imagination isnt working. With my heart racing every-time I see them, I wonder if theyre infuriated Im pretending they dont exist Figment of imagination or not, they still have feelings. But hopefully, this will remind him how completely insane I am. Maybe my craziness will be working to my advantage, and hell be out of sight. Unfortunately, it doesnt seem as if its working. When he finally manages to stop laughing, he says, I see what youre doing here. Doing what? I decide to play innocent. You know exactly what youre trying to do well, sorry to disappoint you, but Im not leaving anytime soon. Thats what I was afraid of. Uh-huh. So just quit trying to get rid of me, cause youd have to kill me. Seeing my eyes widen, he quickly adds, Purposefully. With force. Maybe a knife. Whatre you trying to do, show me Im not bad luck or give me different methods of murder? He laughs. Both. And thats when I stop looking out for Xavier. If he dies, itll all be his fault. But I cant look forward to such a terrible upcoming event. I have to get something else to look towards. Some sort of goal, but my life is made out of pretty much nothing. Nothing besides people telling me Im full of imaginative thoughts. Ive had people call me insane, spontaneous in a negative way, and completely and utterly disrespectful.

Ive had enough of bad names thrown at me. But it still doesnt mean I want to prove myself to the world for being right. I dont want to be right in the manner Xavier dies. If he passes away, I cant believe Im saying this, but I may just miss him. May just. Theres a small, tiny possibility Id feel strange with his absence. Hold on, whats that? Looking at where Im pointing, he tenderly covers his entire upper-arm. Its full of sores and bruises. Do you really want to know? Duh? I tripped over an electric wire and landed headfirst in the table. Then the kettle was on there, and so um I think you know the rest. He looks at my blank expression. And then starts smiling. You always wrinkle your nose when youre oh-so-silently thinking Im crazy. Well, arent you? He sighs, looking towards the sun setting behind the window. Yeah, he says distractedly. Guess Im not really normal myself. Hes just so stubborn; why cant he be like all the other psychologists in the world, the old ones who dont know how to communicate with teenagers? The ones who still the world hasnt changed since a century ago, and not take notice of what the patients are doing. My life filled with a zillion psychologists and psychiatrists similar. But Xaviers not like that, and Im not letting him learn my life-story completely. Were just as stubborn as each other. * He thinks Im asleep. Which is why he stands up from the couch and heads out the door, careful to open and shut it gently. But Im not asleep. Ive been awaiting this moment all day, waiting for the perfect time to follow him through the sinking darkness .Theres no way hell detect a shadow behind him, especially with the dim streetlights in this small town. And when he arrives at his house, Ill have an idea of where he lives. Curiosity killed the cat, but there are times I cant help myself. It doesnt matter if he ends up living in a palace or a trashcan Im not doing this to see his status in wealth. But something odd is swirling around in my stomach, suffocating me with unease. Theres something about the mystery of Xavier MacKenzie which makes me realise I have to solve it.

Theres a good reason hes hiding away. Hes doing a wonderful job of making sure his past has nothing to do with his present. And about Eliza telling him hes not mysterious enough? I think shes referring to the openness of his blond hair, which isnt dark or anything. But he has got to be the only mystery in my screwed-up life. So why not take the chance? Grabbing a flashlight, I head out the door with my mobile tucked in my pants. The thing is, although Im confirmed I wont be needing light in this pitch darkness, somethings telling me there might be danger. Which is just silly, because this is the road I practically grew up on I know it like the back of my hand. Every street, every sign and most neighbours if they havent arrived within this week. And yet, this strange sensation overflowing through me tells my internal organs I need a flashlight. Right now. No, screw that. I dont need a flashlight. I need drugs. Realising for the first time Xaviers truly away, I log onto my computer and search for the online drug store. Its disguised as a completely different website, and theres a special password one needs to punch in to an entrance to the drug-world. I learnt all of this from Dylan, who according to my psychologist, was about to drug and rape me. And then, of course, Ill be killed. I feel uneasy. He did save my life, didnt he? If it wasnt for him, Id be dead. But would it really be a bad thing? Id meet Briony, Dad and A bitter smile plays on my lips. Because Im so brilliant at lying, Ive somehow forgotten that jump; the close touch from losing my life. When I jumped, I knew I wasnt going to see any of my family. Its like Death has a brilliant power full of malice. Everything felt like it was okay until I lost my footing. And then I started falling. Faster, faster. And though I never made it to the spirit side, I still knew I wasnt seeing any of them again. Ever. Theres something about the fall which matured me, haunted me. Deciding theres no need to feel guilt, I checkout the drugs and look at the receipt. Accordingly, Ill be getting my supply hidden in a small jewellery box tomorrow. Which is perfect, seeing as Mum has work and there arent any risks of her catching me. But Xavier would see right through, wouldnt he? Hes a psychologist I always end up underestimating him. Forgetting. Just like I completely forgot my genius plan to follow him to his house. Feeling kind of restless without the drugs, I scamper through the street like a squirrel. A head of blond hair, impossible to miss, is three meters in front of me. The flashlight is tucked in my pocket, safe and sound. Theres also my mobile, which I managed to bring home from school when I needed it, inside. I have full support in case anything goes wrong.

Thats when I watch Xavier zigzagging his way through the streets. Hes going through one road and coming out the other, appearing as if walking around in circles. What is he doing? And by the second time he twists and turns in his crazy way, I realise theres an aimless edge to his ambling. Hes just walking about like hes sleepwalking! How terrific. After three more rounds of chasing after him, I feel my digestive system about to flop. Right on the ground, open for everybody to witness. It seems like such a terrible tragedy to walk around with such pain, but Xavier seems to be doing just fine with his crazy routes. There are fifty dollars betting he has no clue what hes doing. Its so frustrating. And thats when it hits me. He knows somebody is following him. Hes trying to lose them by walking aimlessly after all, how long can a stalker walk around with such hopes, only to find their target isnt getting anywhere? A normal stalker would have to give up sometime, right? Its too bad Im not normal. And after my miraculous discovery, my eyes are narrowed. The only thing on my mind is Xavier MacKenzie, and I cant help feeling the urge to vomit. What a lucky person I am, having him in my not-really-working-well cranium. Wouldnt life be so much easier if this was Elizas brain? Then they could be all lovey-dovey and end up together. The bitterness in my voice surprises me. I sigh, not loudly enough for my fast-walking target to hear. Unfortunately, there are things I cant control at all. And Ill have to survive the fact hes the only thing on my mind. After another three times of walking randomly, bumping into doors and tripping over rocks, he finally begins to relax. But even so, he turns back to check one last time. I duck behind a plant. Theres a smile on his lips. He thinks hes lost me. Huh. He doesnt know anything at all, does he? For a child-genius, he sure is clueless when it matters most. I watch him as he walks straight towards a red-bricked house. Just the minute Im about to step forward, theres a woman behind me. Shes an elderly one, with false teeth and a weary look in her eyes. She asks me if I know where her house is, which is the understatement of the year. Because I pretty much have it memorised. Now, before I have myself accused of being a stalker, she has lived in this neighbourhood all her life. She used to babysit me while my workaholic mother stayed outdoors, getting fresh air and enough money to keep us living. Naturally, I know all the rooms of her house and even made my mark with blue crayons in her sons room, whos now in his late thirties. Its amazing how quickly time passes by. But last year, she developed dementia she cant recall where her house is. And when the condition is worse, she forgets her sons name.

And suddenly, Xavier wasnt my number one focus anymore. Sure, I say kindly, leading the woman to her own house. Shes stumbling a little, as if her foot is crooked. There has been a little trouble with her walking, ever since five years ago her footing is too crooked to be considered normal. And when Im finally at her house, I get the key from the doormat and fling the door open. She even forgets where her key is. There you go. Have a nice night. Theres confusion in her eyes. She clearly doesnt know who I am, but she coughs and hides it. Entering her own house, she says slowly, You too. Oh, darn it. Only after I wave which Im assuming she didnt see I realise how lost I am. Xaviers probably at his house, laughing like an idiot as how wonderfully he fooled me. He mustve known Id be following him, and used my dumbness to his advantage. My hands clench. Im never letting him do that. Thats when I see him, on his doorstep. My anger over-boils so much, Im confirmed I dont care if he thinks Im a stalker. I want to march right up to him and demand an explanation for keeping his location so secret. Its not fair how he pretty much lives at my place while I had doubts on which street he stays at. So I lose my pride completely. Forget stalking, Ill do something better Ill confront. What is the big? I say, when Ive reached his doorstep. Only when I let my eyes open clearly because they were shut of frustration and anger I begin to wish I never opened them. What? And there he was, Xavier MacKenzie. My psychologist, my knight in rusty tin which converts to shining armour when I least expect it. The blond psychologist who was always so happy, so wonderfully optimistic. He seemed so carefree. There never seemed to be anything which worried him; and whats more, there were times he used sarcasm in a worthy kind of way. But all this was in front of me, and yet I didnt realise. It seems as if all the light has been drained out of his body. His cheeks are white. His eyes are widened so much, they look as if theyll never be the same. He looks shocked. Why wouldnt he be? Theres a gun pointing straight at him.

CHAPTER TWENTY
Theres something about this moment which makes me want to scream. Aloud. For everybody in the world to hear. But my stomach is fixed tightly with a rubber band, and even after my lips make several odd shapes, not the slightest sound escapes from my lips. Im frozen in time, just watching Xaviers eyes widen when he sees me at the exit. My hands are shaking when I see the silver gun, pointing straight at him. The person behind the gun is wearing a dark cape, not showing any of his or her figure. For all I know, it might be a chimpanzee. But the confident way theyre holding the gun makes me sick. This isnt a simple I got drunk and feel like killing a stranger situation which makes the news ever so often. This figure knows Xavier. And they want him dead. So I definitely conclude its a human with a spiteful heart. Somebody who hates my psychologist so much, theyre willing to kill him. Meanwhile, Im stuck on the spot. Im wondering whether I should exit this area without looking back, or if I should save him. Both seem like completely ridiculous options especially since somebody dies either way. If I leave him here, theres no doubt hell die before sunset. And yet, if I stay, well both be killed. But at least I wont have to live with the guilt of another dead person. Too many people have died because of me. And although there happens to be someone completely loathing Xavier, I cant help feeling Im the reason hes about to be murdered. Itll be all my fault and Ill have another person to mourn over. Its up to me to save him, right? Which is why I do the bravest thing ever and knock the gun out of their hands. Now, this makes me sound courageous and confident trust me, I was anything but. I pretty much stumbled and knocked the gun out of their hands. It wasnt confident. Not even close. The figure is wearing sunglasses, so I cant see their eyes. They hesitate for a second. I know this from their unconfident structure of their foot, pointing away from me. And before I can blink, I watch them pace out of the house and vanishing into thin air. Not really vanishing, but my eyes just cant see traces of them running down the road anymore. Suddenly, I feel a zillion years old and too many questions which need answers. By looking at Xaviers narrowed eyes, its obvious hes not going to answer them. He looks annoyed and grateful at the same time, if its even possible. Whatre you doing here? he says quietly. Youre not supposed to be here. You werent supposed to see it.

And despite the drowsiness Im undergoing, I manage to grimace. So this is the thanks I get? Fine. He sighs. Thank you for not letting that guy kill me. But I take the thank you back for getting yourself caught up in my mistakes. Your mistakes? His eyes widen. Get away from me. Youre making me say stuff I really dont want to say. Youre my psychologist. How can you expect me to trust you if youre refusing to trust me? I sit down beside him. Im surprised at the gentleness of my tone, when I really want to punch him in the face. Its the easy way to get information from another person. But nevertheless, I put an assuring arm on his shoulder. He flinches like its hot water. Trust me. Kay? Youve done it before with the whole saving up money for Quinn incident. You dont get it, do you? What? I told you already. Quinns dead. She died with the rest of my parents oh, dont tell me youve forgotten. Its obvious by my face I have. Thats exactly what Ive done: forgotten. My brain which is sharpest with useless things cannot put two and two together. The money wasnt for her. It wasnt for me, either. It was to give to him. Him? The figure about to kill me, he deadpans. I owe him around a hundred-thousand dollars. And, God, Mimi Im such a horrible person. I know I should be all No, youre not, but I agree with you. Good. Because youll be killing me when you hear what else Ive got to say. He takes a deep breath. I was hoping that, if I hung around you and you changed, then maybe your mum would pay me a million dollars. So it was never at your own will? Never. Really, I find you annoying; Id never spend time with you otherwise. And I know your mothers broke I mean, you guys barely have enough food in the fridge but I still held onto a little bit of hope. Yknow? And hes right. It does make me want to kill him. Without saying another word, I purse my lips and exit the house. But not before making a big show of slamming the door in his face. He completely deserves it after the deception he made me suffer. Whats more, he thinks this is all just something he can admit verbally and get away. No amount of apologies can make me forget this incident.

As Im walking home, I think of the many ways I can murder Xavier MacKenzie. I shouldnt have interrupted when the axe-murderer had their own way. But honestly, running down the street and yelling, Hey, Dude in the Black Cape, its okay! You can kill him! isnt going to help my insane reputation much. At all, really. Then Ill have more people recommending mental hospitals to me. I can drown Xavier. Theres always the drowning option. Or I can get a knife and stab him through the heart. No, even better, Ill get Eliza to break his heart. I could always get Mum to hire a serial killer for my sake and rip him into shreds, but to avoid more questions, I wont suggest the option. The idea of pushing him off a cliff sounds wonderful. But something tells me Id be at the bottom, just waiting to catch him. * Xavier and I avoid contact for the next couple of weeks. It feels awfully lonely without him, and I feel disgusted for thinking such a positive thought. Ugh, that boy has this strange thing about him when Im with him, Im annoyed and want him to leave and never come back. However, when he leaves, theres nothing but loneliness filling my pathetic life. That boy has a gift for making people feel emotions. My eyes are on the window, as I watch the sun setting. Thats right. A couple of weeks ago, that was us, sitting around. It happened to be the day I found out facts about him. He was about to be killed, but I stopped it. And though I regretted stopping the serial killer, especially after he admitted I was nothing but worthless in his life, Im happy I didnt murder him. I sigh. Its not his fault Im a boring, unimportant person of his life. Those are the pessimistic thoughts circling my mind as I tap my fingers on the coffee table. Theres a small tissue on it, filled with ecstasy tablets. Taking a tablet, I pop it into my mouth. Nobody can stop me. Especially since I no longer have a psychologist watching my every move, and my working Mum is never home. And though it should make me feel free and light, it just breaks my heart. Nobody cares about whats happening to me. Whats more, Xaviers not scolding me like I assume he would. Am I really this worthless? So on top of being bad luck to anybody close to me, I become somebody everybody hates. Isnt that a good thing? Thats when I realise my old psychologist has done the right thing. Of course he should avoid me Im nothing but trouble. Although he claims not to be normal, something tells me it was all a lie. Sure, he has somebody chasing after him because he owes them money, but it doesnt make him abnormal. He still has family and a wonderful life, filled with a girl Eliza who might one day fall in love with him.

The thought of Eliza and him makes me shudder, even though its not cold. I dont like him in a romantic way, thats for sure. Its simply just the absence of a friend. Im dressed in a pink mini-skirt and a baby-blue top. If it were outside, I wouldnt dream of wearing something this exposing. But Im alone in the house without anybody. Just alone with the drugs And suddenly, the beautiful colours are surrounding me again. Im giggling at how the suns setting, and how the night is the perfect time for cool breezes. My take on life becomes more optimistic as I sit at the balcony, looking at the traffic below. It makes me feel as if Im one of them. Just somebody among the crowd, not the one everybody questions. A sense of belonging and beauty overwhelms my mind. Theres no sign of Aria or Emily. And Justin and Oliver are out of the question. It makes me feel sad, but only for a slight moment. Reality cant hurt me. Im just too happy, too bright. I must be radiating a zillion lights at the same time, filling the air with my laughter. The skys turning a bright red. Xavier would love the colour Im sure he would. But I choose not to think about him. Instead, I just sit there. The beauty of the world cant be seen with the naked eye. My father and ex-boyfriend are all there, up in heaven. I know this for sure, especially since the clouds are flashing so vividly, I resist the urge to cover my eyes with my sleeve. Grandmother must be out there as well. She must be rolling her eyes are cursing under her breath like she always does. I smile and yawn afterwards. It seems as if a zillion years has passed. My eyelids are drooping, but Im determined to notice every sketch in the endless sky. Thats when I hear the knock on my door. Stumbling, I want to open it. But its like somebody tied up my legs with a piece of rope, even so, Im giggling as I scramble across the floor. Theres nothing more wonderful than this moment. My mistakes, my imperfections I recognise them as forms of perfection. Something Id never have done if I was without drugs. Without waiting for me to open it, the door flings open. For a fraction of a second, Im worried. But then the feeling disappears. And in front of me stands Xavier MacKenzie, his eyes rolling when he sees me. His upper lip curls in disgust as he snatches the tissue from the table and shoves it in his pocket. Imagine. I leave you for a couple of weeks, and this is what you get up to. Theres no stopping you, is there? My mouth opens and Im about to prove him wrong, but Im too tired to argue. So I say a feeble, Whatever. What am I going to do with you, Mimi?

He enters my room before I can stop him. Then he brings out a blanket and throws it over me. I watch curiously as he rinses two cups and adds milk and chocolate powder to them. He stirs with a spoon, not putting it in the microwave after all, hot chocolate isnt ideal in summer. Handing a mug to me, he begins gulping down his own. Im staying with you tonight, he says casually, as if its something he usually does. Just to make sure you dont fall off a balcony or something. My mouths resisting the temptation to ask a zillion questions at the same time. He seems to notice, because hes grinning like an idiot. Its a wicked one which doesnt reach his eyes. Obviously, he loves the idea of torturing me. But with him around, torture doesnt seem like much. Its as if the capability to be frustrated and angry vanishes when hes smiling at me like that. He answers them himself. Your mum gave me a spare key once. She didnt want me to tell you. But anyway, its hard to explain without telling the truth. She was worried you might jump off the balcony when he leaves her house. She leaves me alone all the time. And yet, you chose to come today. So you just knew I was on drugs? His eyes are so pretty. I can see them properly because hes not wearing glasses. Why dont they shine like this when Im without drugs? Maybe because I never see him as anything but an annoying psychologist who may well be a stalker. He has a key; what else am I supposed to say to that? Yeah. He grins. Why does my heart stop? I just knew you were going to be on drugs. Am I that predictable? No. Youre unpredictable. But it just so happens were the same; abnormal and rejected. You just cant see it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Neither of us can see it. Thats what he said. Xavier said those words to me two weeks ago. Its weird to think theyre still circulating me, like hornets on my mind. Theyre stinging thoughts . Biting, puncturing thoughts making me scream aloud in the middle of the night, all due to frustration. The endless frustration which drowns me. In murky, unclear waters. He said were the same. We cant be the same. He made a mistake, its coming back to haunt him. At least he has a chance to put everything right; I cant save everybody who ever loved me. Mainly because theyre all dead. Theyre all probably watching me from heaven, wondering why Im still smiling. Theyre probably wondering why I still continue to hand out my heart like its useless. To be honest, Im not sure either. Theres something about Xavier which sets him apart not as a psychologist, but as a person. He seems to understand my emotions and feelings before I do, and the slightest things I do can make him mad. There are times where he wants to set fire to my body. I can see it in his eyes, but I only smirk. Thankfully, I have Emily sitting next to me. Shes making disgusting slurping noises while drinking from her glass. She looks at me with an apologetic expression when I glare at her. The sound is annoying me; actually, a lot of things are irritating me today. But I ignore all the feelings of hatred, welling up within my soul, ready to burst out. Ill tell you a secret, says Emily quickly, putting her glass down. Its like she can understand how, if I dont get some sort of distraction, Ill be starting up chainsaws. Why is Xavier so desperate to play with my emotions? The worst part? I dont think he knows hes doing it. My weak spot is my nose. I raise an eyebrow. Your nose? Yeah, shameful. But if you tug at my nose and twist it, it really hurts. Like, extremely hurts. Despite feeling the randomness, I cant help grinning like an idiot. I can always count on my friend regardless of whether shes real or not to cheer me up with an unique, yet girly resolution. One which will make Oliver fall more in love with her weirdness. But it doesnt matter for them if relationships dont work, because they can start over Id allow them to start over. Theyre only figments of my imagination, after all. Thanks, Em. For being here. Wheres?

Before I finish the sentence, my smiling best friend enters the room. She has an awkward smile on her face as she greets me. Im glad Ive got all the company in the world maybe I dont have real-life friends, but I know I have the best ones. Perhaps Justin and Oliver might come later? Its strange how I surround myself with creatures which dont exist. Thankfully, Xavier still hasnt explained how I still see my imaginary friends talk with them, laugh with them to my already fearful mother. I cant help feeling sorry for her. Shes tolerating me, when all she ever wants is a normal daughter. And though I tried my best, I cant be normal. There are some people who never fit in the world. Im among them. Were the same. For some reason, those words are more comforting than annoying, like they were the first time around. But theres no way we can be the same. Maybe its seems like stubbornness or my own consciousness convincing theres nobody quite like me. However, I dont think its either. Its theoretically impossible for us to be the same. Maybe Xavier did feel rejected, once upon a time. But he isnt bad luck. At least he has a choice on what he does and doesnt do in his life. Everything I long for; all the choices I cant have. He still doesnt realise how lucky he is. These are all the thoughts surrounding my head. Once more, hes the only thing on my mind. And Im beginning to hate this new feeling this new plunging Ive been attacked with. Thats right Xavier absolutely detests me and I hate him back. Its a mutual process and we were quite content without the other. But recently, this new feeling has overcome me. He promised to be here in the evening, and here I am, impatiently waiting for the sun to dive down. Ive always hated evenings they all remind me of the night I jumped off that bridge, almost losing my life. And yet, its the only thing Im looking forward to this entire Saturday, which consisted of nothing else but eating ice cream and snoozing. I dont allow myself to think how devastated Id be if he forgets. Or worse, if he refuses to come. And all of a sudden, I begin realising I do care what he thinks of me. When did these pathetic, girly feelings overcome me? My father wouldnt have been proud. Although he loved me to death literally he still had this strong pride around him. Whenever Id beat up yet another boy, who was terrorising the helpless girls back in third grade, hed smile in approval. This makes him seem uncaring; but rather, it was the opposite. He loved the idea of a girl fighting her own battles, not letting anybody take her down. And also, it allowed him to rest in peace realising that, even with him gone, Ill be alright. Ill always be okay. My fights will always be fought; Ill never back down or show myself.

After all, I pretty much live by my grandmothers quote: The more you spill, the less you are. Wholeheartedly, I agree. Somebody who exposes every part of their thoughts, past history and dreams of future has almost nothing to share. Theyre less of a mystery, less of a person to the one bearing all these useless details. Im not allowing myself, however, to become less. My life will always revolve around making it better. But that all changed when Xavier walked into my life. I cant hide things from him. Its like that wall disappeared between us, and soon, Ill be doing everything in my power to make him happy, make him smile. This thought is repulsive. Its sickening, its terrible, its horrifying. And yet, the only thing I want to see right now is his smile. Ugh. I slam a pillow in my face, hoping these disgusting thoughts will fade. No such luck. Its all stuck in my mind like superglue and eating away my flesh like leeches. I think I actually like him. Maybe he isnt that bad. Oh, no. Im turning into the typical girl! Wouldnt my father just shake his head in disappointment now? Actually, he probably wouldnt need to my grandmother would already beat me with a cane, yelling, Cut those teenage hormones out of your system! and the disappointment would be enough for every human being on the planet. I dont care what they think. This is most shocking of all. Everything doesnt matter; what people think are completely beyond me. My whole life has been lived, trying to make my reputation as the Post-It Queen and boss people to their doom. I never wanted anybody to know me, or let my reputation lower. But I dont care what people think when they see Xavier and me together. Whether they assume were friends, romantic interests, worst enemies none of it matters anymore. Cause I genuinely dont care. These thoughts shock me. Though not as much as when the doorbell rings, and Im aware with a gaping mouth how late it is. Quickly, I fling open the door to see him smiling. He has a box of chocolate in his hands as he passes it to me. Here. Moving away from the entrance, I open the box of chocolates. Actually, I pretty much rip it apart. And once I finish, I stuff one in my mouth. Its assorted variety. Unfortunately, Ive put it in my mouth too quickly to check the labelling. Xavier eyes me with disgust, and Im glad that things are back to normal. Im aware how I, out of every chocolate Ive ever eaten, have always checked what was inside. Theres something about putting an unknown flavour in my mouth which doesnt appeal to me. At all. And yet, I disobeyed my private record because I was too nervous. Something about seeing Xaviers face makes me queasy in

the stomach. Oh why are these feelings invading my personal space? As it turns out, killing people who care for me arent the only thing out of my control. Liking somebody unconditionally also fits under the same category. Deciding the chocolate tastes gross, I slobber it out into the palm of my hand. Theres a oozing black liquid running across my hand, undeniably sticky. Whats the black stuff? Xavier waves his hand dismissively. Oh, thats just the poison. You dont have to worry too much about that. Narrowing my eyes, I wipe my dirty hand on his t-shirt. The black and the brown chocolate stains his blue and white striped shirt. He begins complaining about how much washing hell have to do when he gets home, and when I snap back with a, Why not ask that hooded figure? He hates you so much, he might just not separate the whites from the coloured. That shuts him up. And in good time, too, because Id be drooling again about how cute his smile is. But he has terrible skin. Ill give him that. Not exactly acne, but little tiny bumps which arent visible from the distance. And yet, they happen to be the only thing I look at when Im up closer. I had this entire list of what guys should be, under my standards. They must be serious, dark, pessimistic exactly like me. When Xavier walks into this room, that list has mentally been burned somewhere. Its probably coughing and choking on flames this very minute. I swallow, unable to endure this kind of pain any longer. I hate the fact he looks at me with disgust, but smiles at the same time. I hate how when hes around me, he always seems to be shivering like Im some air-conditioner cranked up to fool speed. But most of all, I hate how he has enough power to send me anywhere. Whenever Xavier opens his mouth, does something in relation to me, I end up going to heaven or hell. And thats what I hate most of all: how much significance he has in this minor, terrible life of mine. The worst part? I cant get close to him. If I really care about him, I would avoid him for the rest of eternity. A strong wave of guilt washes over me. What I really want to do, is push him out of this room out on the other side of this door. Then I want to mumble about him dying and slam the door in his face, never to see him again. Its the number one way to guarantee hell never die. But Im a selfish human being. Which is why I keep him here, locked up in my house. He probably has somewhere to be, and here I am, convincing myself he actually wants to spend time with me. Its probably some sort of call from his agency I should stop trying to fool myself. He hates me. Its how lifes always been. An entire half hour passes, and hes whistling the tune to some rock song. Hes rinsing the cups and adding chocolate to them, causing me to raise an eyebrow. Its probably the only thing he knows how to make what a typical, Im-never-entering-the-kitchen boy. Then, he pours the milk in and passes me a cup.

We sit in silence. Its just peaceful with him around. I personally dont know why he hangs around me; especially since he no longer needs to. And all those bonding activities arent a part of our lives anymore. But Im not complaining about his presence not at all. Mimi, he says suddenly, catching me off-guard. About about what I said. You know, that night when you caught that mysterious guy almost killing me. Come to think of it, why are you so casual? Seriously, have some sympathy! People these days arent going to survive with I slap him on the arm. He winces. Wimp. Back to the topic, old man. Actually, I dont think I want to know. Like I said before, everything Xavier says or does happens to land me in either hell or heaven. He just has this unfair advantage. But I ask anyway, because curiosity wont allow me to sleep. Okay, fine. I ugh I just wanted to say I wasnt telling the truth. The annoying parts true you get on my nerves way more than humanly possible. He takes a breath. But its not true that that Id never spend time with you otherwise. Taking a deep sip of his chocolate, the conversation has been cut. He never quite explains his emotions. Its something which stuns me, seeing as psychologists are rumoured to be sensitive, feeling people. Maybe hes an exception. And whats more, there isnt anything else he adds. I cant really reply, because I cant say anything without making the situation awkward or more unbearable for him. Hell probably go scarlet and never speak to me again. But it doesnt matter, I think with a stupid smile pasted on my face. Because Im already rolling around in heaven.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Since Em told you her weakest spot, Ill tell you mine, says Aria, matter-of-factly. Its my toe, by the way. My big toe. If you step on it and dont you dare do it Ill be fall over. I dislocated it when I was younger. I just stare at her. She rolls her eyes. Honestly. Its like having a weak spot is so baffling. It is I mean, I dont have one why should anyone else? Cause youre not normal. And you dont exist. She pokes the air a couple of times in a row. And then a smile breaks through her face. Touch. There are breezes drifting through the air, until I can almost taste the warmth. Dust juts itself up my nose, making me come close to sneezing. The rooftop is the best place to sit and relax during summertime, especially to forget how I have three exams tomorrow. I have science, math and art, but Im choosing to procrastinate and talk to my imaginary friend. Yes, I do realise Im the perfect role-model for years younger than me I already know. Whats more, Xaviers away for the day. He says he has some business to take care of, and I have myself convinced it involves Eliza and the word kissing attached. Or maybe hes going to ask her out again, hoping he doesnt get rejected. A bitter smile plays on my lips. Thats right he still likes her. Whats worse, I cant bear to look at him anymore. Not when I know he only has eyes for one girl. Does this mean I like him? Well, between like and dislike, its definitely like. But I also have the feeling if it was a casual like, I wouldnt be so worked up about him visiting Eliza at least, thats what I think hes doing. I groan, resisting the urge to smack myself. All these dreadful thoughts are taking over my soul, when he might simply be doing something innocent. Maybe he doesnt even know where Eliza lives; maybe his naturally happy aura is taking over every piece of his soul. It may even be damaging brain cells. After all, nobody can be that optimistic. Why is he the only thing on my mind? I hate how he can send me to heaven and hell. And though a couple of days ago, he unintentionally sent me to heaven, its hell without him sitting beside me. I even miss how he drinks his hot chocolate usually slurps it all down like Emily, when I finish mine. But unlike any other person, I cant keep my eyes off him. I cant scold him without smiling; I cant feel happy without him around. The overcome of restlessness flies over me. And the need for taking drugs, to get out of this living torture, appeals to me more than ever before. Only, hes clueless about my mind.

No matter how Id like to think, were not the same. He cant see through me. He cant see inside my soul. Whatre you thinking about? says a sly Aria. You like Xavier, dont you? Shut up, I mumble. I want to push her off the rooftop and watch her get hurt. Its amazing how, despite how seemingly innocent and optimistic he is, I still am not influenced by Xavier. This brings a smile to my face. He doesnt have complete control over me. And as for Aria, Im saddened by how shes not real. It just means there wont be any blood when she trips and breaks her neck. You like Xae-vee-er. You-oo la-eek Xae-vee-er. My teeth grit against each other. She seems to take the hint, because her annoying chant fades into the background until its not there anymore. I sigh. What am I supposed to do with the truth? Shes right I do like him. I like him a lot. But what does anything have to do with how I feel? At the end, its all up to him. And its not like Im admitting my feelings anytime soon no way, thatd be uncalled for and completely embarrassing! Shaking these terrible, disgusting thoughts out of my head, I stare blankly at the balcony. The ledge is so beautiful. It has raindrops still dripping off it, due to the sun-shower in the afternoon. Everything is so peaceful, at the same time, restless. These are my days without Xavier frowning upon me, laughing and shuddering at the same time, or just smiling lazily. Ive fallen for him. Fallen with a thud on a concrete surface. But because hes a boy, hes automatically not going to realise my feelings. Hell never know how I feel on the inside. And its enough to drive me insane. Insanely in love with him. And I cant do anything about these terrible thoughts. Deciding I cant stand another minute without him around, I grab the phone. Maybe itll make me appear weak. But theres no guarantee that, if he comes around, well get along. We might start a food-fight or start a random argument with no intention of stopping. Because were so like-minded, Xavier tends to avoid me hes more of an opposites attract person, seeing as how he fell for Eliza. However, I prefer somebody like me. Somebody similar. And hes the closest person Ive met who, though not from personal experience, is the same as me. He mustve seen a zillion people with similar problems as mine to decide how our brains work. Maybe thats why Im so attracted to him: because he understands the part of me, the insane part, which I never expose. Hello? Theres his voice. I almost drop the phone. Ohaithere. It ends up sounding like one word. ItsMimihere. Iwasuhwondering ifyoucouldcomeover?

What? I take a deep breath. I was wondering if you could come over. Oh, uh sure. I guess. Expect me in five. My hands are still trembling as I put it back. But its a happy trembling. For once, life is going according to plan. Hes going to come over right about now, and I wont need to make excuses to see his face. With a goofy grin on my face, I sit at the laptop and cancel my order of ecstasy. The last thing I need is Mr Teenage Genius to work out my password and username, using them to my disadvantage. Logging out of the computer, horror strikes me. I begin to realise just how much hes impacting me, because I just cancelled an order. If my mother had asked, I would never have done it. Or even one of my old psychologists, who kept asking me how kids talked these days so they could have more luck reaching their other patients. He has an influence on me. And the worst part? Its a good one. I promise myself that, if Xavier comes around, Ill never buy ecstasy again. Although I know its going to be hard, my mind isnt ready for the disgust and disappointment on his face if he ever sees those tablets. Hed be able to sense them on me. Id be another typical teenager under his eyes. Ugh. Ew. Ew, ew, ew. Why am I thinking these thoughts? Deciding I shouldnt droll on this any longer, I get a pair of knitting needles and begin knitting a scarf. Its the colour red. I think thats his favourite colour, so I might just give Oh no. There are my girly, teenage thoughts again. Theres no way Id embarrass myself by not only exposing I enjoyknitting, but hell be shocked as to how I made something for him. Its the one-way ticket for him to run away and never look back. So I make a scarf. Not for anybody but myself. Arias sitting next to me, polishing her nails. I dont remember when she got off the rooftop, but then again, I havent been noticing anything about me lately. Everything significant in my life begins with Xavier. Because hes a major part of my life now, regardless of whether I admit it or not. Yknow, you should just ask him out, says Aria. I almost drop the knitting needles on my toe. What? No! I dont like him in that way! You dont? Our eyes lock. Her eyes are ablaze, demonstrating a challenge. A challenge I cannot win, because what can I say? She pretty much has my inner-thoughts spot-on. Therefore, I look away. The first one to look away. And from the smirk forming on her face, its obvious she realises her victory.

You dont like him in that way, do you? she teases. Yeah, right. I mutter something unintelligent under my breath, frowning at the sky. Its almost night-time. He said hed be here by five minutes, and almost two hours have passed. Boys are so typical cant keep their word when it escapes their mouth. Whats more, Im hoping to see his eyes shine and his mouth form into a smile. Im obsessed with his face. I just need to see it once more. But I cant. Because ultimately, it all depends on him. Im having a hard time not feeling depressed about this. He shouldve kept his word. However, he doesnt realise how much he means to me he keeps it. Oh no. Here I am, droning on like this is some soap opera. I hate this part of my life, where nothing seems to go right. And he still is clueless about my feelings not that hed be any more informed if I told him directly. Hes a boy. A stupid, useless boy. A boy I like anyway. All of a sudden, I see Aria shaking. Violently. Shake, shake, shake. Its as if shes suffering from a seizure, but at the same time, her eyes are fixed on me. Like shes suffering in the cold in the middle of Antarctica. Thats what her shaking is making me draw an analogy to. I dont like this one bit. I dont like this at all. If my imaginary friend is suffering from a breakdown, wouldnt that mean I should be as well? But theres something about her at that moment. I dont see her as an imaginary friend; she seems real. Like a real girl in the middle of my house. Her eyes are widened as she croaks out a few words. I cant hear her at first. Shes rocking backwards and forwards, as if shes trying to protect herself by rocking. As if the movement will prevent her from feeling more scared. Finally, her voice is a little louder and more clearer as she says, Go there. Go to the top of the tower, north of the bridge. The small tower where people go to sight-see. Feeling a little nervous, I begin giggling. Uncontrollably. But theres nothing funny about this situation. Her hair is suddenly messed up, her expression a couple of centuries older. Shes giving me a weary look as she repeats, Go now. You need to go there. My imaginary friend is telling me where to go. Its like what Xavier once told me: its okay to know and love people who dont exist, but when they begin talking to you, controlling and convincing you, then youre in trouble. A heap of trouble. But theres something about Arias face I cant ignore. She cant be a figment of my imagination; because if she was, I wouldve known exactly what she meant by going up at the tower. But I dont. Im completely clueless, if not helpless. I have no idea whats gotten into her. From the terrified expression on her face, Im reminded theres something serious about this incident.

So I stand up. Am I crazy? Yes. Does my imaginary friend succeed in convincing and consulting me? Yes. Is there something extremely peculiar about the oh-so-organised Xavier not turning up, even after a couple of hours? Oh yes. Could this incident have something to do with him? Yes. And if I somehow run to the tower and it just so happens whats occurring there has a connection with Xavier, would that make me normal? Would that mean every hallucination, every imaginary friend has something which is real and normal? No. Because I dont think Ill ever be normal. But, as I pick myself up and fling out the door, I decide I shouldnt drone over my past. My bad-luck, my insanity. The fact Im listening to someone something that doesnt exist. Theres probably going to be nothing at the tower, but Ill be curious for eternity if I dont run now. I need to look up. Up into the future. The future of insanity.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Im not sure what Im looking for. All that I know is I need to get to the top of the tower fast. For what reason, I wont know until I get there. I shouldve brought Aria with me, but she was shaking so violently, I was scared. So Ill have to survive without my lucky charm and hope to get out of this place alive. Its a bittersweet feeling, going after something I dont know is there. My imaginary friend told me to get there. So here I am, climbing the million staircases and waiting for the door of the tower. The stars are cracked, the handle on the side looks about to crumble down. Paint has already worn out from this building, even if it hadnt even been three years since it was made. But I continue to climb until my knees are weakening and legs are throbbing in pain. Its the kind of person I am; pushing myself to limits for something I dont know. Something which might not exist. Im expecting to see Xavier on the tower, maybe having a cup of coffee and watching the stars. Or maybe hes with Eliza, deciding she was more important than me. My hands clench into fists. I dont know what Id do then. Probably push both of them off this tower. Maybe I wouldnt even regret until the police chase after me. If Xaviers ready to cheat on me not that we were dating in first place, but still he deserves to die a painful death. Amazing. These feelings of murder still havent disappeared from my system. It makes me crack a smile. When I reach the top step and open the door, Im not sure what I expect. Thankfully, Elizas not up there. Not from where Im standing, anyway. But I see Xavier with his hands tied behind his back, a gag stuffed in his mouth. Theres a figure behind him; I can see the tight ponytail falling on her back. Its that policewoman who asked me where he lived, the day we went pranking. And he wasnt around when she asked. Its like he knew exactly when to vanish. Her hands are tugging on the front of his t-shirt, lifting him to face her. Obviously, he cant speak. So when he sees me behind her, his eyes widen. Its a warning. Hes telling me to get away from this scene. But its too bad my stubbornness hasnt vanished, and I refuse to get away from this place. Im watching everything from a distance. As if sensing somebody behind them, the policewoman turn around to face me. Her hands drop Xavier in shock, staring at me, dumbfounded. I stare back. I realise why she was so familiar that day, when she asked me about Xaviers location. Her eyes are the same. Her body figure is the same, but a little most pudgy on the sides. Im looking at Aria. Only, in adult form.

My imaginary friends arent imaginary. They exist in the real world, only at an older age. When I gather enough confidence to take my eyes away, my eyes are locked on Xavier. He has something attached to his handcuffs. My mouth goes dry. Its a bomb attached with handcuffs, ready to explode anytime now. Hes going to die. Not if I dont step in. Which is exactly why I take a step. Realising what Im about to do, Aria lunges at me, knocking me over. Shes fully on top of me, her dog-like breath inhaling up my nose. Its disgusting, its repulsive. Its murderous. Shes about to kill one of the only people who matter to me. My mind is racing through a zillion thoughts, but one in particular captures my heart. Thats right. Aria, in her teenage form, told me her weakest spot was her big toe. With a jumpy aura surrounding me, I quickly glance at her big toe. Shes not wearing sandals, but sneakers which appear thin. Using all the force in my arms with added adrenaline, I push her off me. Thats when I step right on it her big toe. She howls in pain, jumping around like a maniac. Seizing this opportunity, I rush to Xavier. Im about five centimetres away when Emily steps in front. Its the biggest shock of the century; I didnt even realise she was here! But her nose. Its a weak point. So I stand up and pull on it. She doesnt howl in pain or anything. Shes trying to hide it, however, her eyes are squishing up. Its turning red as she finally grasps at her nose and takes a couple of steps backwards. Theyre both probably wondering how I managed to strike their weak spots precisely. Maybe I wouldve told them. But something tells me I wont be taking seriously; instead, Id be recommended to more psychologists/psychiatrists, and my entire life will fall under the drain. So its better if little people think Im crazy. I need to hurry up and rescue Xavier. Using my teeth, I separate the handcuff blades until the teeth are turned the other way around. I then throw the bomb and the handcuffs over the railing. I dont have time to see how much was left. Instead, Im going to focus on what Ill do after both the adult versions of Emily and Aria being striking. In no time, theyll be back on their feet. And attacking me. Get away from here, I hear Xavier hiss in my ear. Go. No. Im not leaving. I turn away from the railing, noting how its shaped like a balcony. There are metallic, vertical bars with a slight gap between each. Almost like jail-cells. Emily and Aria are staring at me, disbelief in their eyes. Theyre waiting for an explanation of who I am. Or maybe its just a murderous expression for no reason. But I dont know history, so I lick my dry lips and ask the question running around in my mouth. What do you want from Xavier?

Neither of them looks like theyre in the mood for debating, but I manage to be confident. I stand in front of my psychologist. Its obvious he doesnt appreciate being protected by a girl, because he keeps trying to step in front of me, trying to reverse this protection program. Its not working because I block him front standing in front. He owes us. Emily turns to me, her eyes blank. A lot of money. But he got out of it. Got out of it? Its as if Aria cant keep her lips bitten any longer, as she blurts out, Its that Eliza girl! Shes the daughter of lawyers, so she somehow won a case for the pest. Its obvious with the malice in her voice, shes talking about Xavier. He shrinks away a little, probably ashamed. Now Im beginning to realise theyre not the bad guys here he is. Call it love or just pure feelings, but Im on his side, regardless of whether hes in the right or wrong. Both my friends are staring at me. Its strange seeing them as weary, tired adult forms. What happened after she won the case? We got sent to jail. To jail! What a laugh! We dont deserve to go there. Especially when we were the good guys the ones who were generous enough to lend him money. And we get in jail for extreme harassment. I ask the million dollar question. What did he need the money for? Neither of them answer the question. Instead, their eyes are fixed on the boy behind me. Hes just staring straight ahead, trying to avoid everything thats going on around him. But he hasnt zoned-out completely; its impossible. So eventually, when he realises the attention wont leave him for the next hour if he doesnt speak, he says, I needed it. To prove I wasnt crazy. I must look confused, because he sighs. I told my parents I could see the future. They snorted and said I had to make them rich if they were to believe me. So I stupidly went to the casino and lost every cent of Dads money. I knew his bank code because it was written in the back of his diary. I see this ending badly. It will, believe me. He looks up at me with sad eyes. So when I lost it all, I still didnt learn my lesson. I borrowed money off everybody, and told them how I was psychic. I boasted about it. So these people here He gestures to Aria and Emily without looking at them. Believe me. They gave me around ten thousand dollars. But, Xavier, youre not a full psychic. Theres a bitter smile on his face. I know. Whats worse, I cant pay them back.

Thats right, says Aria, stepping forward. You cant. So you have to die. The logic in her sentence is almost laughable. Just because somebody doesnt pay back money they owe doesnt give a person reason to kill them. Although it must be mostly out of rage. They must still be seething about Xavier going against them, getting Eliza and turning against them. He shouldnt have done that: even explaining about how he couldnt afford to pay them back would be a less damaging theory. I sigh. Despite being a genius, hes really stupid sometimes. Now, its too late. Hes really done it. Theres no way Id be able to save him from this mess or convince the adult versions of my friends to stop attacking him. Hell end up dying. Thats a wake-up call. A major one. Its all my fault they found him. Every person who I ever got close to, ended up dying. Its the story of my life, the fault in the stars. This is what its like to be me bad luck, and completely unneeded in this world. Because he got close to me, hes going to die as soon as possible. Hell be lucky if he lives to see sunrise. Which is why I ignore the matters of right and wrong and shove them both in the stomach. Neither of them completely knocks over, but its enough to stagger their balance. Like theyre about to topple to the ground. And just when Im about to push them over, theres a knock on the door. Its a door which opens and flings out, causing me to lose focus. My eyes are set at the person walking through. Its Justin. Maybe I should be happy about seeing my ex-boyfriend, but nothing is the source of happiness. Not when Im this close of the edge, almost ding or getting friends to die. In his adult version, Justin has facial hair all over. Hes chewing what I assume is gum, as he grins at Aria. Hes got that blonde girl, he says, clearly pleased. Xaviers head snaps up. He obviously knows her. I didnt want everything to resort to this, but its true. Elizas being captured as well. When my terrified eyes tear away, I look down on the other side of the railing. Water. Dark water. The same water I jumped in, on the bridge. Which is visible from here. Theres no way Ill survive if somebody pushes me in. But my main priority isnt myself; its Xavier. Would he survive in these waters? Obviously not. Shes ugh here, says Olivers voice, struggling with Elizas hands. She breaks away from his grip and narrows her eyes at Aria and Emily. Its you lot. Shoulda known. Eliza Xavier starts.

Shut up. Youre clearly in the wrong. Now, just let me die. Her body is trembling. Over and over. My heart skips beats just watching her. Just let me die. Why couldnt you let me die? I turn to my psychologist. Theres something hes not telling me. He purses and looks down, his hands shoving in his pockets. Defeat is the only thing on his face. So my merciful self doesnt ask him a zillion questions. Instead, I sigh. Eliza didnt want to jump cause of petty problems, right? I say, but it comes out as a whisper. Theres a grimace on his face. If only.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
How the heck are my imaginary friends real? If theres a main question circling my mind, over and over like a pesky fly, this is it. My life threw itself down the drain. Im walking on a tightrope of sanity. Just one more push, and Ill be plunged into nothingness. Because, after all, my insanity has been confirmed. Theres something about thinking somebodys real and realising theyre not. I mean, its a shock at first, but people such as myself learn to get over it. Maybe even accept theyre not real, but more fun better than reality. However, when figment of the imagination turns out to be real, its a completely different story. Im crazy in the worst way possible. Everything about my imagination, about these people being real its driving me crazy. More than I already am. Imogen, are you okay? says Xavier. I dont remember the last time he called me by my real name. He looks genuinely concerned. Its like youre about to faint Something close to that, I reply, gnawing at my lower-lip. The insanity of this situation makes me want to laugh. Burst out in hysterics about how completely bizarre this moment is. My imaginary friends turn out to be real. Elizas here with the both of us, looking completely bored. Oliver and Justin look really sleazy and disgusting when theyre in adult-form. And Wait. Tell me the truth. I turn to Xavier, staring him straight in the eyes. Why did you accept to be my psychologist? You know the truth No, I dont. He hesitates for a second. Then sighs. Because you can predict the future as well. You just couldnt see it. Thats why I kept saying we were the same, because we are. Just in different ways. I blink. Once, twice. What? I can sense danger. You can sense danger, but you get to see the personalities of it. You could see Aria, Justin, Oliver and Emily. But why were they in teenage form?

Typical. He rolls his eyes. Youre Imogen, arent you? Complete wacko. Theres no explanation towards why you saw them at a younger form. But since danger was near, you could sense it. You didnt tell me. Not a question, a fact. Idiot. If I told you, would youve believed me? Dont you think its a slight coincidence you happened to stalk me when I was about to get murdered? By some figure? You probably didnt realise it, but your brain subconsciously knew you were in danger. Enough chatting, spits Aria, grabbing me by the collar. Her teeth are gleaming. That guys no good. Dont fall in love with him. Regardless of the fact my entire life can crash the very next second, and that a woman capable of murdering has her hands on my clothes, I flush. Terribly. Embarrassingly. Im not in love with him! Amazing, says Xavier, reading my mind. Youre about to be killed but you just mustprotect your dignity before dying. How typical. I shoot him a glare. Like you wouldnt do the same thing. No, I wouldnt. Id just admit it. Aria rolls her eyes. Its as if she wants to kill us, but hold on. Why are all of us up here on the tower, chatting about nothing in particular? Arent they our enemy? Shouldnt they be throwing us off cliffs, bouncing us against walls by now? Of course they would. Being our enemy and all, these people hate us. So what are they waiting for? As if Emily can read my mind, she glances at her watch. She sure is late, she mutters. How typical. We cant kill without her around. My stomach lurches. Thats right. Theyre waiting for one more person, possibly the brains between them all. This person will have all the perfect ideas for torture. Maybe this mysterious stranger is evil enough to step on us kill us that way, mercilessly and painfully. The more I think about it, the more fear builds up within my chest, until I cant take the anxiety any longer. Xavier seems to notice this and steps forward, probably in hopes of calming me down, but Aria hisses at him. Like two identical magnets, he repels away from her. Simply, he watches me wearily. He feels bad by dragging me into this mess. Id be pretty mad myself if it wasnt all my fault. Its my fault these strangers criminal-minded strangers have found him.

When my psychologist made that mistake of gambling away money, surely there was little hope of ever seeing somebody introduced at a casino ever again in life, really. Especially since this majorly small town has no gambling centre. He mustve gone to the nearest city to try his luck. So whatre the chances of them following him? Shame. Thats the only thing I feel. Thats right; its completely unfair of me to assume its his fault Im in this mess. Because its not his fault. Its mine. All mine. Thats when she enters. At first, I cant see her face properly. But then she turns around with a glint in her eye. Its Eliza. In adult form. I blink twice to make sure Im seeing correctly. My vision and sigh remains unchanged; sure enough, in front of me, is a version. The adult version, while the teenager version is standing right next to me with a dropping jaw. Theres something extremely creepy about seeing two versions of a person. Two people in the same area, the same person. Eliza opens her mouth. Then closes it. Sometimes, its best not to voice questions aloud; it keeps us alive. Especially if we say a single word out of proportion, wed be executed. My eyes dart over to Xaviers secret love. Shes hanging her head down, waiting for the torturing to start. Sure enough, adult-Eliza takes a menacing step forward. Thought you could keep us in that rotten lil prison forever, did ya? Come to think of it, says Aria, stepping forward. How did you manage to get us in jail? You mustve had a lot of convincing to do. I see a knife flashing in Olivers hand as he steps forward. My hearts racing as he presses the blade softly in Elizas neck. But its still enough to draw a string of blood, oozing down her shirt. Shes looking at Xavier from the corner of her eyes, clearly frightened. But its no good. Mainly because when he steps forward, Aria drags him back with her nails clamped into his face. Little pink marks are visible, acting like minor scars. Theyre all over his cheeks. Speechless, I watch this entire scene unfold. Not sure what to do or say. What if I push them all over the railing? Unfortunately, Im not as strong as Id think. There are several things beyond my control this moment highlights the majority of my uselessness. So here I stand, my arms limply at the sides. Theres every opportunity for me to escape after all, theyre not expecting me but somethings nagging at me to stay. And thats what I do. Mainly because I doubt Xaviers going to live through this night. And if he does, its not going to be in one piece. Ill be blaming myself forever; Mums going to be more weary, finding more psychiatrists and mental institutes

for me to attend. Luckily for me, shes against mental houses, so Im safe. For the time-being. If she gets really desperate, who knows what shell do Thats when it hits me. Not in literal terms, but Im suddenly aware of whats going on. Adult-Eliza cant see the resemblance between herself and the teenaged version. She probably is completely unaware this is her teenage form. Which means that, if somebody dies before becoming an adult, theres no way an adult version would exist. But Im not about to tell her. Thats the only thought circulating my mind as Adult-Eliza gets her teenage form and pretty much drags her down the stairs. Watch her die, hisses Justin in Xaviers ears. But my psychologist has no emotion in his eyes. Its like theyve gone blank. Like hes had enough of torture. Justin frowns at this, disregarding it all the same. He turns to me. Whyre you still here? Go get! No, I say. Only after the word escapes my mouth, do I realise how Im playing with fire. Oliver steps forward. Its amazing how he still smells of cheese, although its fainter. But its still there. He rolls his eyes and is about to say something, but I stop him. Dont speak. Aria steps in front of me, curiously. Who are you, anyway? I shrug. Just someone. As if dismissing the thought completely, she shakes her head. Her forehead is suddenly overwhelmed with creases. No, no. I remember you. Youre She circles me like a vulture, and I cant stop spinning around with her. Youre different, but so similar. You have something about you Xaviers head suddenly snaps up. Get away from her. Make us, cuts in Justin. He studies me for a second. Then steps back, a satisfied expression on his face. Shes a psychic. Arias face darkens. Throw her down. Before I realise whats happening, Im being tied up with ropes. I try to scream, but sometimes, when too much effort is put, it doesnt end up happening. Which is exactly why I feel this jabbing sensation. This new kind of pain which isolates my inner-thoughts. A new blackness which covers the back of my eyes like a curtain. This is what its like to be truly helpless; to crave and beg for forgiveness and help. Then, before I can tell whats happening, Oliver hauls me and throws me. Right over the railing. Bit of the rope happens to be unravelling, and on a reflex motion, Xavier grabs it. Just a second later and Id be crashing to the ground, every part of me squashed on the concrete like a pancake. However, nows not the time to discuss specifics.

For the second or was it third? time, Xavier saved my life. And I can do is ruin his by sprinkling some of my bad aura. My wrists are joined onto Xaviers, whos holding on with all his might. The group snickers. They love the panicked expression on my psychologists face; the helplessness, the loss of hope. Maybe theyre finding some resemblance between his reactions and theirs. Perhaps this, they thought, was the ultimate torture having somebody wanting to save another, afraid if they let go, itll haunt them forever. Thats when I see Eliza, being led to the bridge. That bridge which holds so many haunting memories. My entire body trembles just watching her, and maybe more thoughts would revolve around my mind, but Im more concerned about my safety. Xaviers wrists are strong enough for me to hold onto, but for how much longer? I watch with a new waterfall of hopelessness as Eliza struggles with her older version, screaming. But I cant hear her scream. I cant hear anything. My hearts beating too fast, the organs in my body are getting too much blood. Just the throbbing of my heart is loud enough for my ears to hear; it empowers every other sound source around the world. But I stop this aching. Instead, I look up well, try and tilt my head up to look at Xavier. Let go of me! Save Eliza instead! What? Are you crazy? Bad question. But do you really want to betray her? My head cant tilt high enough to see Xaviers reactions. But I suppose its a grimace on his face. Thats what I expect around his mouth as he says, No. Im not leaving you. The heartbeat is still racing against my ears. Its still not loud enough to block the splash; the large, sickening splash. I feel ready to vomit. When I jumped, I was lucky enough to be saved. Nobody was out there today. Eliza was already pushed in; she was already dead. I hear their chatter as they travel down the stairs the adult-versions of my imaginary friends. Theyve finally been avenged. Xavier mustve seen the whole incident, because its amazing how much adrenaline he received. With one tug, he hauls me up and over the railing. I hit the ground with a thud, suddenly aware how much I love the ground. All these times Ive wanted to fly, I always landed on the ground and adored my purpose in the world; to walk.

Its as if all the energy has drained from his soul, because my psychologist is sitting with his knees up to his chest. Maybe hes crying. Or sobbing. Or regretting everything that happened tonight. This is a night well never forget. Im not entirely sure if I can ever expect to be normal; or if Mum would believe me if I told her. Maybe the whole adult-version-thing was a trick of the eye? Perhaps Eliza would survive her massive fall. Although I highly doubt either: only because these miracles are the types which happen in movies or plays not in real life. But theres one thing I do realise; something big, something vital and unforgettable. Xavier, in a sickish and spur-of-the-moment way, chose me.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Elizas funeral was held under a sunny day. People gathered around, the young and the old. Im sure half the people didnt know she existed. I have this theory that, whenever a person dies, people come to their funeral regardless of whether they knew them well or not. Maybe its just relief. After all, as the average human were all thinking, Thank goodness its not me. Its natural. But Im the exception at this funeral. Im not thinking the typical, Thank goodness its not me. Instead, the only words repeating themselves over in my head are, I shouldve been the one to die. There are times, yesterday, where I screamed aloud. Then Id wake up, switch on the light, and realise theres nothing wrong. Id go back to sleep. This is a pattern which repeated itself too much for my comfort. Every single day, I live in fear somebodys going to kill me. Xavier might be regretting saving me after all, its my fault he was figured out. My heads buried in my knees as I plunge myself on the dirt ground. Nobody turns around to give me weird looks, which makes me glad After all, Eliza doesnt deserve any more attention diverted from her. If it wasnt for me at the top of the tower, Xavier wouldve chased after her. Saving her. But thanks to me, he stayed. I was saved. She had died. Three people died at the top of that tower. Eliza died physically, never to return to us. Not in Earth, anyway. I wonder if shell ever look down at us, smiling in forgiveness. Xaviers spirit died that day. Thats the reason hes not coming to the funeral he just cant bring himself. Theres something eerie about arriving at a funeral, knowing he had every connection. An opportunity to prevent it. Then theres me. I died that day. My spirit, like Xaviers, died. But in a completely different way. For one, Ive lost all hope about me ever returning back to normal. Once upon a time, it was simply something which I could grasp after all, Imogen Vivian can do everything. This time, everythings impossible. The idea my mother would ever stop getting psychologists to rule my life completely impossible. Ill be considered crazy forever. Insane. Completely out of this world, and not in a good way. I hereby acknowledge the absence of Eliza Green, who killed herself. I shut my eyes. Now I know why Xavier didnt come. This is too painful, hearing lies which are fed to the entire world in a spoon. Every nerve in my body dares to stand up for myself, yell out every possible curse and give a million reasons why Eliza Green didnt kill herself she was murdered. But I keep my lips sealed tightly. Life goes much easier when I dont complicate things. There are a couple of murmurs of disapproval, especially from Elizas uncle, Zac. As a strong Christian, he doesnt like the idea his niece committed suicide. So hes

going around, telling everybody whod listen that theres something wrong with this statement that his darling little Eliza would never dream such a thing. And when hes waved away like a pesky fly, his face burns. He wants everybody to believe him, but it seems nobody does. Hes probably waiting for some miracle to come running with two feet, somebody to explain how hes right. Im the person hes looking for; the solution for all his problems and crazy theory about something else happening to his niece. Unfortunately, Im not stepping forward. Hell be raving on like a maniac, and theres nothing I can do to stop him. Its a lifelong fact. Instead, Ill be watching wearily as some more people shoo him away, telling him he should be more sympathetic towards his niece, instead of trying to defend her actions. Im beginning to wish I never came. The birds are chirping, the sun is glowing like a thousand light-bulbs stuck at the same time. Theres something about this funeral which makes me feel haunted. None of the memories from the night is appealing. I want to make sure I never remember the feeling of hopelessness again. But it attacks me once more. The face of Eliza as she was plunged into the water. I couldnt see it properly, but it was shock. Also expectancy at the same time, as if she knew her actions to save Xaviers life was going to end up ruining her own. Xavier explained later about his life. Actually, he didnt know he was doing it. I gave him a dosage of his ecstasy, figuring he needed it way more than I ever did. Then I sat beside him, as he told me the many mistakes he made. He was laughing on the outside, giggling like a maniac, but it was all the drugs. I knew he was crying his heart out within. Elizas parents are both lawyers, so she was excited when he went to her. She had started this no-pay online lawyering system, hoping that by the end of school, these successes would lead to a better life. Also, think how good it mustve looked on a resume. So she wholeheartedly accepted the job, without even thinking about the consequences. Xavier didnt tell her everything. Instead, he told her about those people the adult versions of my imaginary friends being addicted to alcohol. He didnt tell her they were sober when giving away money or that he took money from them in first place he lied to all of them, playing innocent at the same time. Somehow, Elizas parents trusted their daughter with the investigation in the crime. And as full-time lawyers, they arrested them for harassment and stalking. It was a bitter day, that one. If it wasnt for them going to jail, they wouldnt be that bloodthirsty. My psychologist told me about how he read a book about war, and there were these prisoners captured in enemy grounds.

When they finally got freedom unintentional for the enemy it was like a bull among a bunch of red cloth. They burned everything in their power, destroyed the enemys hideout. They killed their enemy much more viciously. All out of spite, all out of pride. They made sure to humiliate them, torture them. Ten times worse as done to them, regardless of whether justice was on their side or not. According to Xavier, my imaginary friends were pretty much the same. They got vicious after finally being released from jail. They couldnt believe their eyes, but at the same time, were waiting for this moment all along. Just waiting to be avenged. And then they found Xavier, and thats when I wanted to cry. Mainly because its my fault they found him. No matter how many times he tries to deny it, the facts always going to be there. My fault. My stupid bad aura chases me around. If it wasnt for me, Eliza would still be living, smiling. Xavier says they wanted to hurt him. But they also knew killing him was far too easy they wouldnt get much satisfaction, and itd be too short. Also, they assumed he wasnt the type to get affected by physical pain. So they chose the next best thing; hurting people he loved. And it did get a reaction out of them, and somehow it exceeded their expectations. They knew from the moment Xavier looked close to crying, that theyve won. I wanted to tell him it wasnt his fault, but he shook his head, showing no sign he heard me in first place. But how could I deny it? Thats the problem with this entire mess; I cant deny it. Its true it is his fault theyre after him in first place, regardless of whether my bad luck caught them to follow; showed them the path. Theres not a word I can say to comfort him. He knows it, I know it. But it doesnt stop me from trying. Mainly because, despite the fact hes still a psychopath who believed he could tell the complete future, theres something special about him. He lost his charm; everything he says now is completely glum, emotionless. Distant to such an extent, I wonder if his minds living in mars. But I continue to try and help him. Mainly because our roles have switched; hes the patient, the one whos depressed and unable to forget something haunting him. Just like Im the psychologist, trying to calm my patient and having them relive life in a different manner. Our roles have definitely switches. And secondly, I still have a thing for this charm-less, manslaughter-committing boy. Trust me, I really dont want to say it aloud. Its true, however its always true. Just because I end up knowing his history doesnt mean my feelings have subsided. Did you hear about this girls boyfriend? whispers a middle-aged woman in a black dress. The one who died, I mean. She had a boyfriend? Oh, the poor boy, says the next, shaking her head. He mustve been devastated.

But hes not at this funeral, says the first woman, an edge in her voice. This is gossip for the second woman, whos gaping. As it turns out, he doesnt care. I heard from Elanora that hes out of town, collecting insurance. Insurance? How much is this girl worth? About five-thousand dollars. And, according to Elanora, hes insisting he needs some of that money for uh mental classes. I can barely hear anything. Nothing but a deep buzzing voice is ringing in my ears. But I need to hear more. My nights will be spent awake if I dont hear the finishing of this sentence. With a fluttering heart, I try and listen to their conversation, unsure of whats coming next. Xaviers probably considered her boyfriend here. And although I should be more suspicious about why hes trying to claim money, the only feeling overwhelming me is jealousy. Green, yucky jealousy. Hes considered her boyfriend. If so, then what am I? Mental classes, echoes the second one, as if trying to comprehend this statement. Who is this boyfriend of hers? Jason, Jaundice or was it Justin? She frowns. No, definitely Justin. My jaw drops. Theres a piece of detail Ill never tell Xavier. For one, the last thing he needs to know is that Elizas death wasnt a luck and chance. They were about to kill her they knew toexactly how much she was worth, and they intend on taking every cent. Maybe Justin will tell the people at the insurance centre how it wasnt really a suicide, and how he tried to stop her and blah-blah-blah. Hell work something out; hes smart enough to kill the right people. I have full faith in him, although its not a good thing. Everything seems so distant. It seems as if Elizas died a century ago, not two nights. It alerted me, most of all, how quickly the funeral was set. It seemed as if her parents wanted to forget their daughter, because the agony was too hard to bear. Therefore, they wanted to bury her and get it over with. It makes me sad how desperately her parents want to forget her. But its not like they have much choice. Theyll never know what really happened to their daughter. And I have no intention of telling them, because Ill be blamed. They wont say it aloud, but Ill be blamed. So theres no need to bring negative attention on my side. Mum wasnt too thrilled about the idea of me attending a funeral, especially from somebody who committed suicide. But I insisted I could find a connection with her, so she grudgingly allowed me to come. Though she wasnt completely satisfied about me. I havent told her I was the reason Eliza died. Theres no point; itll make more excuses for me to check out a psychologist. Right now, however, I dont need one. The one person I want to talk tomay have a position in the psychology department, but I dont want to see him as somebody helping my mental issues.

Instead, I want Xavier MacKenzie. No, scratch that I need him.

EPILOGUE
He puts a bunch of flowers on Elizas grave. Its raining today, a complete contrast from the sunny days two weeks ago. Xavier seems to be a little happier, but the smile on his face is a sad one. Rain is pouring down his hair, drenching the blond strands. He doesnt have his glasses on today; he says he doesnt find a purpose for dressing up properly anymore. I notice his socks are odd, his shoes are different and his shirts on backwards. But as long as hes smiling, Im not going to burst his bubble. Stepping through the dirt track, he finally grins at me. His eyes are weary, all the same. Sorry, I guess. Sorry I got you into this. I start crying instantly. I think theres something about these last couple of days which taught me how ironic this world is. Theres not a day in the last two weeks I didnt burst into tears, in one way or another. Memories, shocks. Regrets. Theyre all spinning around my head like a globe, making me dizzy. Xavier stands there with his mouth agape, as if wondering what to do. Theres an awkward silence as he steps in, putting his arms around me. For a psychologist, he hates physical contact of all kind thats what Ive noticed, while meeting him properly. I know him different from the rest of the world, because the Xavier I know is a scarred, easily-pestered, regretful one. Even still, I continue to like him more with each passing day. Mimi, he says. Theres nothing simpler than my name. Sorry. I know its lame, but I jerk away from his arms, almost stepping on a grave. Whatre you apologising for? Its me.Its my fault youre in this mess. I ferociously wipe away every tear on my face, swallowing a couple of sobs. Oh no. Im crying. How can this be? Crying in front of the last person Id like to have an advantage. However, everything changed that faithful night Eliza fell to her death. Somehow, nothing matters anymore. I I told you I was bad luck. Idiot! The word stops me at my tracks. Hes fuming. How can you still believe youre bad luck? I He kisses me then. But it isnt soft. Full of anger, regret, hurt. Pain. Sadness. It makes me happy, but at the same time, I feel like crying. I can see through his emotions; the last thing I want is to read the mind of the broken, because Ill wail even louder. My heart is slowing down as he pulls away. Everythings going the wrong way around.

Theres one major question. It escapes my lips before I can stop it. Are you sure you want to be with somebody as messed-up, as broken as me? Then I swallow. I have to say it. We both know the truth, but this is something which needs to be said. Im not normal. Dont you think Ive noticed that? Its okay, cause Im not normal either. He grabs my hand. Well be unnormal together. I believe the word is abnormal, I point out, unable to hide a smirk. He rolls his eyes. Smart aleck. It amazes me how were talking so casually, as if were not standing next to a grave. The grave of somebody we murdered together, without any intentions. Its our fault. Its all our fault. But its okay, because life moves on. When were together, we can laugh and talk as if the world hadnt changed. And when the two of us separate, its like the world doesnt hold a purpose for either of us. I wasnt kidding when I said I needed Xavier hes the only one who I can talk to, knowing he recognises my entire life-story, and I know his. One things for sure, though. And I voice it aloud. Ill never fully stop blaming myself, you know, I say quietly. He stops at his tracks. So you still think youre the reason they found me? Yeah Then you owe me. He grins, his eyes suddenly flashing. All weariness has disappeared. It reminds me of the old Xavier the innocent, childish one. And just seeing a flash of him in this mature version makes me want to cry. Gosh, Im being sentimental. Ill have to go get a fish-hook stuck in my eyes to figure whatreal pain feels like. I smile at the violent form of dark humour. Mimis back. A little damaged, more mature but shes back. I owe you? Yeah. Theres a pause. Run away with me. Are you crazy? Bad question. But dont you want to start over? Go to a new town, visit new places? Leave everything behind us and just I dont know run away.

Only the weak run away without a purpose, I point out, though this idea is intriguing. So tempting. He shakes his head. Were not running without a purpose. Were chasing normalcy. And yes, I realise it doesnt exist. But theres nothing stopping us from trying. I remember the determination in his eyes, the spirituality of this moment. The ambition, the goals. Everything inspiring Xavier to chase something down, without knowing what it must be like. What is normal? Is there a proper definition? How would I know when Ive reached it? As it turns out, I dont run away. I stay at home, only a whole lot happier. My mother stops working as hard, seeing as I no longer need a psychologist. Since I dont need one, she doesnt require extra money. We stay home, laugh at old comedies and discuss different ways to knit. I forgot how amazing my mother was how bubbly she was. It makes me ashamed to think she lost her personality after I made that jump. It wasnt just me who got affected; everybody around me was the same. Xaviers still out there, somewhere. After a whole three months of constant working, he found enough money to tour Europe. He sends me regular emails, and I scold him about the excess usage of exclamation marks and capital letters. But Im just so happy hes moving on with his life, learning to leave the past behind. Hes visiting me in about two months, so theres something Im definitely looking forward to. Hes still chasing after the same thing. He told me in his last email: hes waiting for the giant bomb to drop on him and he can be all, Waa-laah! Im normal! I smiled at that email, replying with things completely irrelevant to his one. The subject of normalcy isnt raised again, and Im glad. Because if so, Ill be forced to tell him my clich but true observation. Theres no such thing as normal. It doesnt exist in any shape, form or species. Theres not a worldwide definition of it. But normal is when were together; we forget the world, our regrets and everything that make us abnormal. Its funny how immature I was when I first met Xavier, refusing to accept his help. Now, I dont think I can survive without another shield. And vice versa he needs me as well. Especially those late nights when one of us has a nightmare, calling the other and babbling all our problems without explaining the whole story. Its reassuring, having somebody else know us like the back of our hands. We keep each other sane.

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My seventh completed novel. This is too good to be true! And since seven is my lucky number, this book's pretty much lucky. ;) I do realise it's nowhere as suspenseful and awesome as Summer of Adam Deveraux, but I hope you liked it anyway. Because I don't want to forget a single person, I'm not going to name any of them at all. Those who helped me complete this story. So thank you so much to all my readers, because you guys are amazing. And even you there, reading this right now. Thank you. The sequel to this story is Invisible Magic, which you'll just have to read. ;) It's like a stand-on-its-own novel, but you'll also see Xavier and Mimi in it. It's not going to continue their story. It's going to be a different story, different characters (in another world) but will have Xavier and Mimi in it. So you might just need to follow me along with that story as well. ;) Thank you so much for reading! I know this is a lot to ask, but could you vote for every chapter to show your support for this story? I'd love you forever! Remy xx