Dedicated to the above user because they are literally like the real-life version of Sage (except weirder, if that's possible).

I passed out as the rocket took off. Maybe from the change in air pressure, maybe because of the Voice. All I know is that one second, I'm laughing like the maniac that I am, and the next, I'm waking up in outer space.

There is one tiny window in the wall of the rocket ship, between Jake's and Nicole's seats. When the rocket turns slightly, I can see Earth through it, drifting away. It is odd, seeing the planet on which my entire life had changed...reduced to a tiny blue and green marble in the middle of oblivion.

"So you're coming with us, then?" I ask the lady next to me idly, the Voice resting for now. "To Mars?"

"Yes. I'll be returning to Earth after a few months, though."

That makes sense. She surely has a life outside of caring for insane teenagers. A family, or at least someone who loves her. On Mars, there are only scientists, astronauts, and now, apparently, juvenile delinquents.

"Who's going to be taking care of us?" asks Xavier.

"Androids and robots, mostly," the woman replies.

"What's your name?" I ask next. I can't tell if this is the Voice or not, but if it is my mental roommate, I, too am curious.

"Vivian," she replies after a moment of hesitation.

"That's a pretty name," Xavier murmurs, still trembling from the takeoff. He looks pale and sickly, much different from how he looked back on Earth.

"Did you puke?" I ask him sympathetically. Now this is the Voice for certain.

"What's it to you?" he snaps.

"I'll take that as a yes," I reply cheekily. Then, I turn my attention back to Vivian. "Hey, how long is this trip gonna take?"

"The trip to Mars is about five to six months long. You will not be returning to Earth," Vivian explains. A shiver of fear runs through me at her final sentence and unfortunately, Jake notices.

"Scared of Mars?" he asks, sneering.

"Did you know that bulldogs - an ancient dog breed - couldn't give birth naturally?" I respond, refusing to rise to the bait. "Every single puppy had to be cut out of the mothers because they were bred to have big heads, but skinny pelvises. Not a good combo."

Jake turns to Vivian, looking helpless. "How can you even think we're near the same level as this girl? She's absolutely insane! And she murdered over a hundred people with common household objects! At least the rest of us have some sort of conscience - have regrets - "

"I don't!" Deirdre pipes up cheerily.

"I regret nothing," Xavier says darkly, "except being caught."

"Excuse me, Drac?" I ask politely towards the muzzled girl. "What about you? Do you regret your crimes?"

Nichole hesitates before shaking her head slowly.

"See? It's really you who can't live up to our expectations," I counter cheerily to Jake. "Oh, if only you had been a little more bloodthirsty..."

Jake's jaw clenches in an obvious attempt to stay calm and he looks away. I begin to feel guilty until the Voice grabs a tighter hold.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I strike a nerve?" I giggle. "Well, I mean, I've struck a lot of nerves, but no one's ever walked out of it alive!"

"It's time to stop," Vivian murmurs warningly.

"You don't call the shots," I sing.

"And who does?"

"The voices!"

"One voice or many voices?" Vivian looks excited and I remember the conversation she and the Earthen doctor had.

The Voice is getting nervous, so I just begin screaming again. Everyone winces. I have a very piercing shriek.

The Voice vanishes for a moment, leaving me feeling hollow and broken. Something about it is off. It would not let me be this revealing otherwise.

I thump my head rhythmically against the headrest. Welcome back, Voice. "Are we there yet?" I ask over and over again. "Are we there yet?"

Jake is staring at me like nothing has ever disgusted him more. Xavier's eyes are closed and his lips are moving fast as if in prayer. Deirdre is clearly struggling not to laugh, a smile creeping over her lips. Nicole is watching me with an expression that clearly says, "Could someone please take off this muzzle and let me at her?"

"Game time!" I shriek with glee. "Let's recount our murders!"

This, I feel a genuine twinge of panic with. The people I've murdered are the last things I want to be thinking about. Before my first kills was the only time I actually attempted to fight back against the Voice and lost. It may control every other aspect of my mind, but the Voice can't control memories - especially not the awful ones.

I struggle to keep my mouth shut, every muscle in my body straining. I have forgotten what this feels like - to fight the Voice, to attempt the hopeless task of keeping it at bay. But suddenly, I'm doing it - I'm holding the Voice back!

Within the next second, however, it breaks free with a gasp and a word. "Stop."

Everything pauses. At least, that's what it feels like to me. That is the first time the Voice has ever addressed me using my own mouth instead of just thoughts. I can somehow tell that it won't do it again unless absolutely necessary, but I had been fighting it. The Voice had had to use my mouth to tell me to stop.

I shake my head back and forth so violently that I and the Voice are disoriented, confused. I know all the others are watching me, judging me, but everyone has been for nearly three years. I'm accustomed to it.

"What are you doing?" asks Deirdre. It is the first time that she sounds even remotely scared of me.

I do not reply. If I speak right now, I will lose focus.

But processing the child's words turns out to be too much alone. With a gasp, my head thuds back against the headrest and I am no longer fighting. I have lost.

The Voice keeps an incredibly tight control on me for the next few hours. I can sense that this is draining, not just for me, but for it as well - but it won't risk anything after that debacle. Vivian is watching me very closely, obviously waiting for me to snap once more. I simply sit still, staring at my feet and resisting the small twinges of thought that start with dangerous things like maybe you should...from the Voice.

*

Soon, everyone begins to grow restless. We are all shifting in our seats and stomachs start audibly growling. I have no idea what time it is back on Earth, but it is near a mealtime, judging by my biological clock.

"I think I'm the most uncomfortable of us all," I boast loftily as if we are in the middle of a conversation on the topic, "because I am in a full-body straightjacket."

"We weren't having an uncomfortableness contest," Jake snaps, boredom making his voice even tighter than usual.

"We are now! I win!" I shriek suddenly, making everyone jump. I am annoying even myself, but the Voice is attempting to compensate for her earlier slip-ups.

"It is about dinner time," Vivian agrees, checking a watch implanted in her wrist. She has been floating to and from different parts of the spaceship for a while now, but rejoined us a couple of minutes ago. I gather that the vessel is pretty big - either that or understaffed - by the amount of time she spent away from us.

Standing slowly, she floats out of our small room - to go procure food, hopefully. Although I won't be surprised if she comes back with a full stomach herself and ignores our hunger.

"Why didn't they just kill you?" Deirdre blurts out to me. Everyone else looks like this is a completely unacceptable question, their eyes widening in shock at her forwardness, but I have been wondering the same thing myself for three years.

"I don't know," I reply thoughtfully, finally free of the Voice's clutches. "Since it's too risky to ever release me back into society and I've killed so many people, they should have killed me long ago. Why weren't you four killed?"

"I was high when I...committed my crimes. I was a severe drug addict. They actually used me to see if they could wean somebody so addicted off of their drug," Jake explains. "Like...an experiment. A lab rat, I guess." His voice is bitter.

"Vampire girl can't talk, so what about you, Xavier?" I ask.

"People spoke out against my humane euthanization. Saying I had been brainwashed by my father and things of that nature, and how else was a kid supposed to act in that situation, et cetera.." Xavier sighs and rolls his eyes as if their sympathy towards him is the most idiotic thing in the world.

"Well, probably not chop off his own legs, that's for sure," I snort. "Deirdre? How about you?"

"Buncha 'morally correct' people, saying I was too little to kill. Like other people don't already kill way more innocent children on a daily basis." She frowns. "See, I only killed bad people that the government wouldn't lock up, people who had it coming. And all of the animals, their deaths were really quick and easy. I had to eat somehow. Like I said, I just like killing things." The same slightly maniacal glint from earlier enters her eyes. "I haven't touched a gun in over a year."

"I haven't touched anything but a straightjacket for two years," I counter in a boastful voice.

"Seriously? They kept you in a straightjacket that long?!" Deirdre murmurs in awe.

"Yup. I can literally kill you with any manmade object that's not attached to the ground. And a fair amount of Mother Nature's objects, too."

Just then, Vivian returned, holding packs of astronaut soup. "Oh, come on," we all groan. "We're seriously using eating methods from over a century ago?" Xavier complains. "I was brainwashed by my father, I don't deserve this!"

We all chuckle, except Vivian. She merely shrugs and says, "Dinner time."