Trigger warning: a homophobic and abusive asshole mentions of death, drugs and a fucked up organization.

Are you buckled up?
____________
Yeah, you could be my wifе for real
Only takes a woman
To show you what it means to lovе

Approximately Six Years Ago

We never truly did start at the beginning, did we?

It's about time you read the beginning chapter of Madeleine Emryn Alvaris at the age of seventeen nearing her way to eighteen. Let's get something cleared first. For some weird reason that everyone just has to accept and move on in this town, we go by our middle names. It's like our middle names are our first names and our first names are the names you never hear.

Got it? Okay great.

I'm just gonna be blunt and bold here. This story all started because my worthless father was against allowing people to love whoever they want to love.

When it comes to love, gender matters to him.

A man must love a woman.

A woman must love a man.

A woman must not try to be a man, a woman should act like a woman, a woman shouldn't admire her own gender, yadda, yadda, yadda.

That is the way it should be, without any exception.

But you see, my father's teaching of that lesson never stuck, hence the 'yadda, yadda, yadda,' part. It entered one ear and flowed right out the other, never stuck into our brain.

Yes, our.

My mother divorced my father to marry a woman she fell in love with. Unfortunately, they both died in a car accident. At least they were holding hands when it happened?

Her wanting to be a mother changed after I was born. Apparently, it was something she didn't want to do anymore and she couldn't deny her heart of love. At least she didn't stay back and be a horrible mother? I don't know, man. Looking at the positive side of things is difficult sometimes, you know?

Okay, enough of that.

My brother, Maxon, went off to college and he fell in love with his roommate- who doesn't have a vagina.

He didn't have a middle name, lucky him. Anyway, what's with everyone leaving me lately? Worst part is the one that I wanted to leave, never did. The good apples fell off the tree and I was stuck with the rotten one.

Enough about him, let's talk about the star of the show. Emryn, or as you know her, Madeleine had a little crush on Cassidy King- who didn't have a penis. In case it wasn't already obvious.

See mom and Maxon left me to be with their lovers so I was the only one being forced to attend church and be the perfect daughter of Quinton Alvaris. A part that I forgot to mention earlier was that after my mother left my father for a woman, he got into Christianity. It was the only thing that gave him a reason to blame my mother and he revelled in how wrong it was to be intimate with your own sex.

I'd be forced to wear a different face. The face of the daughter he wanted not the person I truly was. A puppet on strings, doing everything and anything he asked. He still chose what I wore, eat and said even though I wasn't a child anymore. He hated that my body was changing, he hated that he no longer had a little girl instead he had a teenager that he needed to control.

Little did daddy Alvaris know, in those two hours I get before he arrives home and school is ended, I'm with Cassidy. Let's just say, we don't keep our hands to ourselves- or our mouths. If I had ever known what was the consequences of being caught with Cassidy intimately, I would have never ever looked in her direction.

Yes, you curious bitches are going to find out- is it okay if I call you that? Whatever I'm going to say it anyway. Finally, yes, the boring part is over.

"Mads!" Cassidy shouts, her beautiful voice being the remedy that brought me out of my thoughts. "What were you thinking about?" She asks, tilting her head to the side, her hands falling from her thigh where they were to slip between my fingers on the bed we sat on. "How badly I wanna taste you again," I lied. Well, it wasn't a lie, I was desperate to be buried between her thighs again but it wasn't what I was thinking about. Shockingly.

"You want me, Madeleine?" She smirks, loving how much I was a whore for her. My head nods and I tugged her closer by the neckline of her sweater. Didn't understand it, how someone can look good in an orange sweater. I don't even like the colour orange.

"Kiss me and find out," I tell her, tilting my head up slightly for my lips to brush hers. I knew she loved it when I spoke softly and did it, she'd inhale deeply every time and tighten her hands on me. Cassidy obliges and kisses me. Taste like strawberries. I kept kissing her, stealing all of the strawberry chapstick she'd applied.

Her lips catch and swallow my moans. Our hands desperately trying to bring our bodies impossibly closer, already getting carried away and drunk on each other. This was a usual routine except today was different. Today was the last day. Today was the day that my father came home early.

My wooden, white painted bedroom door suddenly pushed open. The abrupt sound repelled our bodies far enough that there was distance. My shock widened green eyes stared at my father standing where the door once was. The three of us were just frozen, unable to speak or move while wrapping our heads around what happened.

My father's confused and startled expression soon whirled into one of rage and a tinge of disgust. "No! No, no, no! Damn it, not you too!" He screamed at me, shattering the deafening silence with his raging voice. His feet thumped on the floorboards as he stomped his way into my room, each heavy step nearing me closer and with everyone, I became more afraid of him.

"Please don't hurt me," I pleaded, feeling my lip trembling, a sign that the tears were about to be spilt. My throat was already starting to tighten as a result of all the horrid ways this could to running through my mind.

"You don't listen to me!" He shouts and leans over on the bed to grab me by the hair and yank me closer to him. "Don't fucking touch her, you bloody son of a bitch!" Cassy screams at my father and launches for him, attempting to tear his hand off my body. His head snapped to her, his eyes glaring at her that would usually send a cold shiver sliding down my back.

"You'd leave if you know what's good for you," he warns her, meaning behind words holding a promising threat. "Go," I choked out, shutting my eyes tightly and wishing all of this would just be a dream. It wasn't. I opened my eyes, feeling my wet eyelashes attempting to stick together.

"I'm not leaving until you're riding behind a cop car on your way to prison," Cassy spat, her hateful eyes drilling into my father's. She wasn't afraid of him and I swore it seemed impossible. It's her bravery that would've gotten her hurt by the same hands that destroyed me mentally, emotionally and partly physically.

"Cas, go," I repeated, this time begging her more with my eyes to protect herself and leave. "I'll see you tomorrow," I continued in hopes to forgive her. I won't though, I knew my father and I probably won't see her ever again. He remained silent probably because he'd realised that it would've gotten her out of the house sooner.

She looks at me, those pretty eyes softening. "I'm not leaving you," she insists. Mentally I groaned, hating that she was blindly walking into a trap. "Elara," I whispered her first name, closing my eyes as I do because seeing her reaction would've broken my heart too much than it already is.

"No, don't make me leave you, please no," she pleads, I could hear the tears running down her cheeks from her voice. "Get out," my father told her. My hands were rolled into shaking fists at my sides, trying to stop them from smacking him across the face.

The bed sinks and I mentally see her getting off the bed, still reluctant to open my eyes. I hear her footsteps walking across the floor, her hand touching the doorknob as it jiggles. "What the hell are you waiting for? Go!" My father screamed at her.

I listened to her inhale deeply and then, the door opens and shut. Next, I hear her footsteps running down the staircase and more seconds later, the front door slammed shut. My eyes opened and I breathed out a sigh of relief.

"Disgusting bitch," My father mumbles, his face churned with disappointment. His other hand lifts and I barely have time to process it until my cheek was set aflame and my head had whipped to the other side. I remained like that, trying to process that my father just slapped me.

I didn't have a choice though, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him in the eyes. Green eyes were so pretty, right? They were the best eye colour right? Not when my father also had green eyes. "Why didn't you just behave, hm? You had to go and mess this all up and what for? Did you get the attention that you wanted, stupid little girl?"

"I'm sorry," I whimpered, pleading that all of this would just stop but it never did before. So why would it stop now? "Your words mean nothing to me you disgusting shit. You'll pay, actions speak louder than words, right?"

He grabbed my hand the tightest he could've and yanked me off the bed. He charged out of my room and headed for the stairs, finding pleasure in how much he was winning over me. Though all the screams and resistance I shoved his way, he still made it to the front door.

He keeps walking, anger in every hard step until I realised he was going to take us somewhere. His other hand finds the backseat door of the car and pulls it open. "Get in the car," he demanded and shoves me inside. I had to push my feet inside otherwise he would've slammed the door on them.

For thirty minutes I sat in the back of the car, endless tears rushing down my red cheeks while listening to him repeat how wrong I was. For thirty minutes I sat there regretting every touching Cassy because now, I hated myself. I hated this feeling he made me feel. At the end of the day though, I knew it wasn't wrong.

The car stopped in front of this massive building painted in golden brown. I didn't get enough time to glance at the name at the top because my father was already pulling me through the automatic doors. "Why are we here?" I asked him, looking around the small waiting room.

"They'll fix you, don't worry. I'm not giving up on you," My father sweetly smiles at me, his palm smoothening my frizzy hair as he spoke. My eyebrows furrowed, he was still speaking cryptically. I was only more scared and confused. "What do you mean? Nothing is wrong with me dad," I denied.

"Yes, there is something terribly wrong with you. It's like a disease that runs in the family but don't worry, they will fix you," He denies. I hated his words so badly, I didn't want to hear anything that came out of his mouth. However, my life was in his hands.

"How? How will they fix me?" There's nothing wrong with me. "The church started a new program, to guide those who have been lost when it comes to who they're supposed to love," my father finally reveals with a calm tone as if we were discussing the morning newspapers.

"What?" I bluntly asked, my heart racing as I processed what he just said. What kind of program? "Don't worry, just know you deserve this okay? I warned you several times not to turn out like them," my mom and brother. "But you did anyway," he sighs.

"It's alright though because in a month you will be out of here and I will find you a sweet young man to marry. It's going to be okay, just take your punishment and listen to the doctors and everyone, okay?" He continues. Everyone drinks, everyone smokes, everyone breaks the rules so what's the big deal about another rule? If being with another woman is a sin then it is my sin that I would have to pay for, not him. So why does he care so much?

"No! I don't deserve this. I didn't do anything wrong," I shook my head and tried to pull away from him but his hands on my shoulders just applied more pressure. I could see the anger rising again beneath the greens of his eyes. "Yes! You do. All of the pain, you deserve it," he hissed. Tears were pooling in my eyes again.

His eyes flickered to the women that were standing nearby and gestures for her to come over. As she walks closer, his worried eyes fell on me. "Is having females around you going to be a problem? Would you want to...be with them too?" My father seriously asked me. As if he was genuinely concerned that I'd want to fuck every female near me.

"No, what the f-" He cuts me off, already predicting what I was about to say and didn't like it. "Do not use that type of language with me! How many more rules are you going to break?" He scolded me.

Next thing I knew, two girls dressed in the same floral uniform pulls me away from my father and through this automatic opening door. "What's going on?" I asked them but neither answered. They only released my hand until I was shoved into an empty room.

My eyes landed on the man standing in the middle of it, his attention on whatever he was writing on the clipboard held in his hand. His eyes flickered up and he smiles widely when he sees me. "Good day, Emryn. I'm Doctor Dane, I will be recording your process throughout the four weeks you will be with us."

What he said only made me more confused than I already was. "Where am I?" I asked him. "You are at a private psychiatric hospital, that is the professional name for it. The informal one would be a private mental hospital. Here we specialize in curing mental illnesses and in the treatment of mental disorders like your own," the doctor calmly explains.

"I'm sorry, what?" I blurted out. Like your own. "I don't remember having a mental disorder," I denied, still bluntly confused on what the fuck is going on. "Yes, you do. Your father filled us in," the doctor confirms and glances his eyes on the clipboard he held.

"You think being bisexual is a mental disorder?" I narrowed my eyes on the doctor and prayed that this wasn't why I was here. "Yes." They're here trying to stop people from being gay instead of helping actual people that need it?

"Moving on. This is a one month treatment however based on our observation, we would offer an extension to your parent or guardian if we think it is needed. There will be no technology involved at this ward only a television during your movie hour every day," he continues, taking breaks between every point to ensure that I understood.

"A day here consist of having breakfast before taking medication, there's a lot of outdoor activity in between and then you have one hour in the library before your session starts," he goes on. This can't be real. If it was, how bad can it be? "Session?" I questioned and he nods his head.

"A priest or a representative from the church will be having lectures every day with a group of people just like yourself," he answers. "When you are not attending to a daily task you will remain in your room. Every day at two pm after lunch you may return to your room and a nurse will attend to you with the medication that you must take."

"I don't need this! Let me go home! This is fucking crazy and fucked up," I shouted and attempted to turn around and escape but the doctor grabbed me by the elbow and turned me back around. "Patients that disobey gets in the chair and then three days in the blackout room," he lowly tells me.

"What's that?" He smiles at my question and releases my arm. "Electrocution chair where you will be sitting if you do not comply to any of the rules given to you. The backout room is a room without any light and you'll be trapped there for three days."

The man opens the door and the same two girls from before we're waiting outside. Without a word spoken, they guided me down this long hallway and we took a couple of turns until they finally stopped. "This is your room. Door must be unlocked at all times or punishment will be served," one of them said before turning around and walking away.

I stood in front of this white door with a silver circular doorknob. All of the doors looked exactly like this one. This place gave me all sorts of bad feelings. Hesitantly, I lift my hand and wrapped it around the knob, twisted it and the door creaked as it pushed open. The moment I walked in, my eyes locked on the person sitting on the chair pushed against the open window, a cigarette in his hand.

"You must be Emryn," the guy starts, his eyes flicking over to the open window where he killed the flame of his cigarette on the concrete. My eyebrows furrowed as I wonder how did he have that when I'm sure he wasn't supposed to be in a place like this.

Though I remained silent and after a minute of waiting for a response, he just hums and returns his eyes on admiring whatever was behind the window. I didn't think he needed a response, he didn't ask a question. "Well Emryn, I am Zayn," the guy continues.

Zayn. That's a very interesting name. I wonder what it means. Still, I am too afraid and reluctant to open my mouth and allow the words to be heard. My eyes left Zayn's body for the first time to look around this room.

Everything was too white and too bright. I hated it. I needed the colour, the personality, the vibrancy. There was a desk pushed against the wall and a small bedside table on the right side of the bed with an artificial plant on top. That's the only colour the room had.

It only took me a second upon looking at the bed to realise that there is only one of them. If Zayn and I were supposed to be roommates, where is his bed? This was the question that got me curious enough to actually speak.

"Are we supposed to share a bed or something?" I bluntly asked. His eyes snapped to mine, a bit of shock mixed with the brown before the corner of his lips tugged upward. "No, my room is next door," he says and nods his head to the right, signifying that his one was the room to my right.

"So why are you in mine?" I asked, not finding the answer myself. This isn't summer camp where you say hello to your neighbour. "Every other room has a window, meaning mine don't. I need one to smoke so the docs don't detect a scent," he reveals.

"Oh."

Zayn smirks, his eyes remaining on me as he stands up and slowly strides out of the room. However, he slows down right beside me, our shoulders almost touching. His hand reaches out to twirl a curl of my hair around his finger. "See you around, blondie," he says with a wink before letting go and walking out of the room.

Throughout the rest of the week adjusting to this place, Zayn appeared everywhere. His day was intertwined with mine and he took every opportunity to be at my side. I didn't understand it because when he knew I wasn't around, I observed him. Zayn stayed to himself, never letting anyone speak or touch him. When it comes to me though, he never leaves me alone.

He followed me to the library and looked at me like I was an alien when he noticed I wasn't reading a book. He pulls out one from the shelf and dropped it in front of me. "Read it, read it right now," he demanded. I blankly stared up at him, not phased by his order. "You will read this book, Emryn. You won't regret it," he insisted. My eyes finally look at the book he'd presented to me.

"To kill a mocking bird?" I questioned. The name was familiar. Zayn nods his head and continues to get me to read the stupid book. It didn't work but we did compromise. Every session we had in the library after that, Zayn and I wouldn't be found on the sofas laying down while he read the story to me.

Friday, we were so close to finishing the book that Zayn decided to take it back to his room. I was scared, remembering what the punishment would be if we broke any of the rules. "It's just a book," he brushes me off and pulls me into his room. I'm not supposed to be in his room either. "We have thirty minutes before they come to check on us," he whispers and glances at the clock.

Throughout the second week, that become a reoccurring thing. Staying in each other's rooms until the last minute where they come to tell us lights out. Zayn also showed me that under the little fake plant pot he had in his room, just like I did, he hides all of his medication that they ordered we took.

It was a Saturday night when Zayn had convinced me to share his last weed joint with him and he was the only person I trusted at this place so I agreed. "Why are you in here?" I asked him. He was a book written in a foreign language but some words I could've understood. I wanted to understand all of them.

"Mom got a bad dream that I was going to end up gay so she put me in here...to prevent it I guess," Zayn shrugs his shoulders and slipped the joint from my hand to take another drag. Zayn never asked about me which I appreciated because I hated thinking about Cassy. Would I seem like a bad person if I say that I liked it here because I was away from my father?

"What's your deepest desire?" He changes the subject, slipping me out of that weird thought. His head was tilted up now, staring into my eyes and the sight of him took my breath away. Must be the drugs. "I want to start over," I sighed. Every night before I go to bed, I continue my little fantasy in my head. Where I had enough money to run away and have a life away from my father just like my mom and brother did.

"Tell me more," Zayn sits up and stares at me as if he was genuinely interested. I found it hard to believe he could've concentrated on anything right now but I still went on. So I close my eyes and pressed play on the fantasy I had planned out in my head.

"I'd change my name to Madeleine, it's simpler and I like simple. I've always wanted to dye my hair black or navy blue. Whichever looks better. I want to be a simple waitress or a librarian. Maybe a hairdresser? Whichever life wants to offer me..." A smile tugs my lips as I spoke. "I like your blonde hair though," he comments, reaching out to twirl a curl around his finger like he often did.

"So you don't want to go back home when this month ends?" Zayn questions. I shook my head, hating that I didn't but it's the truth. As creepy as this place was, it was nice to be free. Even though I was locked in here and under a strict schedule, I felt freer than I ever did at home.

"These lectures haven't changed my mind. I still don't find it wrong to be with a girl," I revealed. Staring at Zayn because too intense so I flickered my eyes out of the window where the moon spotlighted us. "All my life I've pretended to be someone else to please my father. I don't know who I really am and I'm not going to find the answer if he's around," I continued.

Zayn's held my jaw and forces me to look at him again. "Promise me you'll make your fantasy a reality when you're out of here. Be Madeleine, she's who you want to be, not Emryn," he ordered, his words heavy and strong but filled with so much care and hope.

"I'll try."

"You better try fucking hard," Zayn cups my cheeks and tilts my face down to press his lips to my forehead. My lips parted out of shock, taken back by how normal Zayn's action felt. He pulls away, his brown eyes never breaking the connection with mine as if he was battling with something.

Fingertips gently stroked my cheek and I couldn't help but lean into his touch. I missed touches like these. "Would it be fucked up of me to say that I'm happy your dad put you in here? I'm happy to have met you," Zayn confesses. His throat bobbed as he swallow, our eye contact faltering.

"No," I answered even though I probably wasn't honest. I couldn't think about what I was saying, my lips just moved and said them for themselves. Zayn closes his eyes and presses his forehead against mine. Hands still holding my face close to his, my mind was so quiet I couldn't find any voice telling me to get away from him.

There should've been one though because when Zayn finally kissed me, our bodies started making decisions on their own. Clothes remained on but neither of us wanted to be alone for the rest of the night.

Our minds were shut off, neither of us predicting the trouble we were promised to face the next morning when we'd be caught sharing a bed, cuddled together. Doctor Dane promised the punishment we were warned and feared about.

However, Zayn made it his mission that I would never step a foot near that room, even if it meant breaking me out of that mental facility. "Become Madeleine," was the last word he told me before he forced me to run off before the guards caught on to us.

ELEVEN THOUSAND???
What?
You guys are trying to kill me I swear to God😭❤️

Forever grateful for you.
**waddles back to my room to write the next chapter I'm extremely excited for**