'we can't escape from the demons in our head. they're going to be there forever, living in the back of our minds.'

Scarlett's POV

Only darkness flooded my sight, but I could hear voices right in this moment. Normal, human voices. Not those gruff, inhuman ones I was used to. The soft chattering from outside the room, the chilly air from the air conditioning, the needle embedded into my skin, once again. Oh god no, not again.

Peeling my eyes open, I blinked a couple of times, letting out a tired groan. When I finally arose from my oh so peaceful slumber, I heard voices outside the door as my eyes snapped open. I was welcomed by the clean scent of the hospital, the coldness of the room causing goosebumps to appear on my skin. A needle was lodged in the crook of my elbow, and I winced as it pulled on my skin once I moved my arm.

The sweet scent of my mate wafted in as he walked in, in all his glory. Tousled hair and tired eyes expressed his almost nonexistent concern. But, I couldn't stop thinking about what happened. I looked down at my left arm, to see the bandage removed, and replaced with a new one. I probably had a dazed look in my eyes, as I wondered about what they thought of me. I didn't dare look up in fear of making eye contact, in fear of what I would see if I were to look into his eyes.

The worst part of anxiety. Caring about what everyone thinks, constantly worrying that I'm not good enough for them; and I'll never be. They, the doctors and nurses, probably thinks I'm a suicidal psycho that is actually a spoiled brat that didn't get what she wanted. Hell yeah, I want to go back to my parents, up in heaven, though I'll probably end up in hell.

I snapped out of my trance, when a tingle shot up from my hand, signifying that my mate was touching me. Willingly. I hated how tense everything seemed to be when he was around. I stayed still, still being able to feel his hand touching mine. The nurse had come in, with a huge needle, that looked petrifying, by the sheer size of it. My past experiences had needles involved, and it wasn't exactly a pleasant memory. However, my brain seemed to taunt me, replaying the scene as it were a film playing right through my very eyes.

**********

Again, the higher ranking members used their jurisdiction as an advantage against the lower ranking ones, like me. They simply looked down on us, to put it in a nice way. Two of them gave a contemptuous smile, as they flounced towards me with an aura of pride and dignity, following their tracks.

A few of them laughed, making my heart drop in my stomach, and I could feel a storm of rage pushing up, but I pushed it down unwillingly. If any disrespect was shown, they would feel even more angered, and would beat me bloody and bruised until the morning where I would be waking up, in a pool of my own blood.

Trust me, I've learned that lesson. That left me with scars on my back that never healed, even until now, although the incident happened four years ago, when I was first learning the position I held in my pack.

Now, two of them held me down ferociously, as I struggled from their tight grips on my wrist, helplessly. One of the men, who was big and burly, and generally, just scared me to death, held a long needle, and was currently filling it with a liquid.

Handcuffs laced with small doses of celestial silver and moonstone held me down, and a sharp jolt of pain rushed through my nerves with every movement I made. They grinned diabolically, as they injected the liquid into my veins, enough to cause excruciating pain, but not enough to kill. It was a rare mix of aconite and silver. This, used in large doses, can incapacitate someone, and brings the victim permanent damage.

As the odd feeling liquid through my nerves, a sudden jerk of pain hit my abdomen, and I groaned. As the pain gradually worsened, I screamed in pain, but the sound was muffled by someone's hand covering my mouth.

It felt like knives were constantly being stabbed into the still tender skin that had taken a beating just a while ago. I gritted my teeth, trying not to show indisposition, but awfully failing. The laughter only rose, once again, as I blacked out after black dots dotted my vision entirely.

**********

As the nurse came towards me with the needle, I instinctively leaned towards my mate, who snaked his arm around my waist. Which surprisingly made me feel relaxed, immediately. More zings sparked through my arm from how close he was to me, and I could almost hear my wolf squealing excitedly in my ear.

I could feel the needle entering my skin slowly, and I clenched my hand around his, and he squeezed it back, giving me a sign of assurance. She was finally done, and she left when my mate started glaring at her, though she tried not to show that she got the hint, taking her time to gather everything and leave. I'm pretty sure she tried to show her defiance, towards him.

We had a small conversation, making small talk and I was pleasantly surprised when neither of us wanted to rip each other's throats out in frustration. A small part of me hoped that this wasn't just an act. It hoped that he would never hurt me again, like he did when we had first met. But a part of me knew that that wouldn't happen.

We managed to actually hold a conversation without anyone storming off. Instead, we laughed together, as we cracked more jokes, the ice around us breaking. Well, this is a new start, I guess. It's definitely better than how I have been treated back in my pack. It felt nice, to actually have someone to talk to, to joke around with.

However, I had a gut feeling that something would go terribly wrong. Pushing those thoughts away, I focused on the moment that we were having right now, and it made me...wish, or hope, that we actually stood a chance. But it is highly unlikely that he would accept someone like me, not worthy of ruling a pack. I don't even have control over my own, damn mind.

Every time those thoughts invaded my brain, it made me feel something, like the voices in my head temporarily took control over everything. My hands would move to their own accord, making negative statements in my head. It is so uncontrollable that my brain couldn't take the thoughts sometimes, as they raced rapidly through my mind annoyingly.

I was put on an IV that transported the nutrients that I needed, since my stomach is apparently too weak to handle food at the moment. I was to seek the help of another psychologist the next morning, just in case any...incidents like that are repeated. Honestly, I dreaded going to talk to someone that I didn't know at all; expected to tell her all my thoughts and feelings.

But they don't understand. They never will. It's not easy, when you're fighting a raging war, in your head, that seems to almost to never exist, but it's always real. I always hope that the voice in my head will just go away, and leave me alone. But it never stopped with the remarks that always cut through my heart and left it there, bleeding. And I had no one to confront.

I wasn't going to just open up to some stranger that I've never met before in my life. I hated the fact that the voices in my head prevented me, from feeling any form of happiness, but at the same time, I can't do anything to stop them. I hated the sadness I always felt. It's always easy to smile when there's something worth smiling over. But what if there's no reason to smile, at all? There's just no point in smiling anymore.

No one could ever pick up the broken pieces, when my walls were up so high. When the shadows lurked around my mind, trapping my thoughts and turning them black. Sure, I had little hope of Xavier ever opening up to me, and we could sort the whole thing out, but I highly doubt that he would waste his time on me.

I am a burden on everyone's shoulders, and I can't do anything about it. Again, why couldn't I just be a normal werewolf? One that had a good childhood, met her mate, and lives a happily ever after? I guess that those stories they tell you about Prince Charming were a lie all along. Some dude on a white horse, isn't going to solve any of my problems.

Xavier had left a few minutes ago, and I stayed at the hospital ward, feeling all alone.

With those haunting thoughts trying their best to taunt me, and succeeding. After laying there for what felt like three hours, I still couldn't sleep. I was worrying, anticipating about the visit tomorrow. It turns out, I only managed to get maybe an hour of sleep, and I tossed and turned, unable to sleep, staring up at the ceiling.

In the middle of the night, probably just after midnight, I was still pondering over my negative thoughts that drowned out everything else.

It just wouldn't stop.

The voices rang in my head, repeating the words, once said.

'You're worthless and pathetic, why don't you just go and kill yourself.'

'All you are, is a burden to everyone around you. There's no reason for you to live.'

'Fuck you and your pathetic life, you attention seeking whore.'

'Why don't you just slit your wrists and kill yourself, huh?'

'Your sad, rejected ass will never be loved by anyone.'

'You're so broken, ugly and pathetic. Your damn life is a mistake.'

'Go kill your fucking self. I hope I don't see you in heaven; I hope you rot in hell.'

'You're so fake. Faking disorders to get the fame. What the heck is wrong with you?! People like you make the world a terrible place.'

'Go and jump off a cliff. No one wants you here, and ever will.'

My wrist started burning, as if shot by a flame, and I started scratching it, as if I could feel an itch. But I knew what it really meant. My wrist burned, and I felt tempted to do something I know I'll regret.

**********
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