A/N: Trigger warning: depression, thoughts of negative self-talk, mentions of past mental/emotional abuse. Reader discretion is advised.

Forward.

How I wish I could be able to join in with the crowd and move on.

Forward.

So many people can't seem to want to let go and find a new direction.

Forward.

Backward.

Let the spirits of the dead come and let me rest my head on the pillows so I could rest my eyes.

And yet, how I wish to remain awake and keep the demons that lurk in the shadows of my dreams away.

Forward.

Backward.

I'm marching on with the parade, but I still walk backward and join in with the sheared sheep of the mediocre.

Painting a magnificent masterpiece in the hurricanes, the tears of the broken cascading and washing beauty away.

Forward.

Backward.

Forward.

Backward.

Forward.

Standstill.

I wanted to make it easier to let them love me for what they wanted me to be- silent yet driven, passionate yet demure.

But what good is pleasing others when it seems like I can't win the game?

Am I doomed?

Am I broken for life itself?

Forward.

Backward.

Forward.

Backward.

As the final beams of the sun fade into the horizon, I only see the void of the endless night- no stars to light the way.

There was nothing to say. Nothing to do.

They all just left me alone to die.

And I can only hear the words that contradict and complement my saga of life.

Forward.

Backward.

Forward.

Backward.

Standstill.

Forward.

Standstill.

Forward.

Backward.

Standstill.

Standstill.

Silence. Loss. Standstill.

Death.

*******************

"Wendell?"

I slowly opened my eyes, wincing a little as my vision made way to adjust to the bright and harsh light that illuminated the room. I was now lying down with my arms and legs strapped down onto a restraint and my white bodysuit was now replaced by a pair of leather pants and a white T-shirt. "What...what's going on?" I croaked, turning my head to face the grim and sad eyes of Dr. St. Pierre and Logan, the female therapists at the doorway.

"You had a panic attack that was triggered by your anxiety," the dean said firmly. "And I think it's because of your slow detoxification from binging on those pills when you were back home."

"I was so worried about you," Logan said quietly, walking over to my side and brushing his fingers through my hair. "You gave most of the orderlies quite a fright with your screams and all that when they saw you huddled by the toilet."

"I'm sorry," I whimpered. "I didn't mean to-"

"We know," Dr. St. Pierre cut me off. "But you are still a high risk for another psychological breakdown. We're keeping you isolated for a couple of days. Two at best, and another two if need be just in case."

"Why?" I couldn't help but ask. "I didn't hurt or do anything wrong."

"It's for safety precautions regarding your health," Dr. Valenzia replied. "Your withdrawal from the old you is causing a bit of a setback with your mental breakdown."

Ah, so my inner psyche- my inner "bitch from hell," to be specific- is setting me up. "So, what do I do now?"

"You just rest," Logan said. "I'll be here to make sure that you're doing okay. You've been out of it since this past Wednesday and it's now Friday. Sedatives and all that."

"So I missed my classes?"

Dr. St. Pierre nodded. "But all of the teachers have been informed and we'll make sure that you're caught up," he promised me. "Right now, you need to just let yourself go and rest for a while. We'll be back to make sure that you're fed and healthy. And you'll enjoy a shower with a guard and orderly to watch over you."

I nodded. "I'm sorry," I murmured.

"We know," Logan said, placing a chaste kiss on my lips. "Just trust in us right now, Wendell. Let us help you from your inner demons."

I just laid there and watched everyone leave, a female guard dimming the lights a little so my eyes could take in the intensity of the isolation unit. Four white walls with a two-way mirror. At one end lay a desk that held my backpack and all of my notes. And at the other end was a nearby bathroom that most likely held a shower, a toilet, and a sink.

I sighed heavily, knowing that this was all my fault mainly because I let my inner demons try and haunt me.

One step forward, two steps backward. This ought to be good for a poem or two to be used for a journal entry.

************

Useless little shit! I should've fucking killed you in your mother's womb.

Your mother always had those bad vibes that seduced our father into tricking him into marriage, Wendell. You deserved nothing but the worse for what she did.

Cowboy up, nerd.! Stop being such a bookworm and take what's yours right now!

It's all about a rite of passage into being a real man. Don't take things too seriously and learn to laugh with everyone else.

Ugh, such a boy will never have a real chance in life if he continues to deny himself childish pleasures like his classmates. He's doomed to fall into the cracks.

You brought this on yourself, Hardass Harding. You get what you deserve.

Useless!

Worthless!

Pathetic.

A blemish to the family name!

Worthless!

Worthless!

Worthless!

DIE!

DIE!

DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE! DIE!!!!!!

"SHUT UP!!!!" I screamed, finally snapping at the dissonance of voices from my so-called family and friends that continued to mock and rattle my mind. "Please stop talking and just let me be! My God, why can't y'all just let me be?"

"Because you're letting them try to mold you into their image and block me out," I heard my inner saboteur say in a bitter tone similar to my voice. "I just don't get it, Wendell. You were such a warrior back in the courtroom when you read everyone else for filth and tore everyone out back at McHell High. And now you're letting these pigs here try to silence you? Pathetic!"

"Shut up," I hissed. "This is all your fault. I want to get better, you know?"

"No, Wendell. You're just surrendering to those idiots who let you try to make you into an idiot," my inner saboteur replied snidely. "You know what? Fine. I'm done. You want me gone and out of your life, then I'm out. But don't say that I didn't warn you when it blows up in your fucking face."

And he spoke no more.

I should've felt relieved.

I should've felt like I was ready to finally tell everyone that I'm finally cured.

Instead... all that was left was a lingering emptiness that began to fill my mind. It was as if my personality was being sucked out of my soul and I was left as a hollow shell of myself.

So, what now? What is left to do after my evil ego has decided to leave me in the dust?

"Sing a song," I heard the voice of my grandmother in my head. "When you feel down and you want to give up, sing a sad song to make it all better."

I took a deep breath and began to sing a familiar song that I loved to listen to. And it was one of my go-to songs when I was stressed out from too much verbal abuse and my grandparents were not around.

[Verse 1]
How can I decide what's right
When you're clouding up my mind?
I can't win your losing fight
All the time
Nor could I ever own what's mine
When you're always taking sides
But you won't take away my pride
No, not this time
Not this time

[Chorus]
How did we get here?
Well, I used to know you so well
But how did we get here?
Well, I think I know

[Verse 2]
The truth is hiding in your eyes
And it's hanging on your tongue
Just boiling in my blood
But you think that I can't see
What kind of man that you are
If you're a man at all
Well, I will figure this one out
On my own (I'm screaming, "I love you so")
On my own (But my thoughts you can't decode)
[Chorus]
How did we get here?
Well, I used to know you so well, yeah
But how did we get here?
Well, I think I know

[Bridge]
Do you see what we've done?
We've gone and made such fools of ourselves
Do you see what we've done?
We've gone and made such fools of ourselves
Yeah, yeah

[Chorus]
How did we get here
Well, I used to know you so well. Yeah, yeah, yeah
Well, how did we get here
When I used to know you so well?
I think I know
I think I know

[Outro]
Ooh, there is something I see in you
It might kill me, but I want it to be true.

"That was beautiful," I heard Logan say.

I turned my head to see the dashingly-handsome roommate of mine as he held a tray of food in his hands. Said tray of food was nothing more than a bowl of buttered rice, some spinach greens with vinaigrette dressing, and a smaller bowl of fresh fruit. Logan, with a male orderly following behind him and carrying some fresh clothes, came and placed the food on the desk. "Thank you," I murmured. "It's one of my favorites. Paramore."

"I know. That song's from the Twilight soundtrack," he told me. "But I bet you just loved the song of heartbreak, right?"

"I never got the point of the books or the movie," I muttered. "But the music was awesome.

"Maybe you can sing another song sometime soon," Logan offered as the orderly began to unstrap me so I can eat. "I liked hearing you sing."

"Well, Grandma Lillie Jean told me to sing a song to make a bad day better. But I don't know if I can ever sing again after my inner saboteur decided to give me the boot." I sat down at the desk and began to eat.

"Well, it's a sign that it was time to finally find your own identity. But never let the emptiness dictate your path, Wendell," Logan replied, handing me a glass of water. "And I want to hear you sing again."

I nodded, taking a spoonful of rice and eating it before speaking. "I'll find a song to sing soon," I promised him.

"I know you will. Anyway, we got you new clothes and we're bringing you a bed to lie down in so you won't need to be uncomfortable with lying down on that restraint," the orderly- a beefy Black dude- said. "I know it's not comfy to be stuck on that thing."

"You have no idea," I commented, making the duo laugh.

After cleaning my plate, I accepted the bundle of clothes from the orderly as the guards took the restraint away and two more brought in a rollaway bed with some linens. "Rest, Wendell," Logan instructed me. "After your shower, you'll have a few minutes to meditate before it's lights out."

"Thank you," I breathed as I let him take my empty bowls away before I hit the shower. "Will I see you tomorrow?"

He smiled. "Of course," he said. "Now relax and focus on getting better. When you come out of here, I want you to talk about everything to Sellers and Valenzia at Monday's lunch hour."

I nodded, making a beeline for the compact yet comfortable bathroom. I had a feeling that the next sit-down with them would push me over the edge. And I knew that the topic of my addictions would be the next one to talk about. I was going to use my time in isolation to mentally and emotionally prepare myself.

As for my inner saboteur biting the dust? Well, it was fun while it lasted, but I needed to live my life right. Fare thee well, sass-mouth. I knew you a little too well for my taste.

Send some love to Wendell. He could use it right now. This was the hardest chapter to write because Wendell is still human underneath his take-no-prisoners sass. And again, folks. This chapter...wow. This was the hardest chapter to write, and I had a LOT of time to prepare myself for re-uploading this.

In the next chapter, we'll take a side trip to learn a little more about Braden Satillo and his true endgame. And child, his story is a trip! You can't afford to miss out!

Dedication: diaryoftheintrovert.

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