I stood at the end of Star's coffin dressed in all black, tears lining my cheeks, I was unable to look up at the world around me. The only thing running through my mind was that police officer's voice as he explained what happened. It played on repeat in my mind haunting me more and more every time it started over; and just like that, another demon was born inside my brain.

"Our investigation shows that Star lost control of her vehicle while trying to avoid being hit by a semi. The driver of the semi had fallen asleep behind the wheel and veered into her lane. They were on a hill; her car was found upside down at the bottom. The car flipped at least four times before finally stopping in the middle of the fifth roll. I'm sorry for your loss. We didn't know who else to call, your number is the only one in her contact list."

The light in my life was put out, all that was left was complete darkness; Star was gone. After the funeral, I sat at the foot of her grave starring at her head stone.

Star Collins

Aug. 21st, 1990 – May 19th, 2019

"The brightest light in Heaven!"

After sitting there for a while, I realized that all the voices in my head were silent for the first time. The only thing I could hear was the wind blowing, it was peaceful. Little did I know at the time, it was the last bit of peace I would get.

*******

A week after my best friend's funeral I was sitting in Dr. Baker's office with Shannon sitting next to me. I was staring at the floor unable to look up at either of them. When I first met Shannon, I was supposed to help her get through her tough times. My how the tables have turned. Dr. Baker was talking, I could hear the mumbles of his voice but couldn't understand what he was saying because I wasn't really listening. Instead, I was daydreaming about all the great times I had shared with Star; we did everything together. The best things in my life happened with her by my side. In some of my darkest times (the ones she witnessed) she was by my side and helped pull me out of my funk. A slight smile crossed my face just before my brain stopped the memory slide show and I heard a voice. 'Why was your number the only one in her phone?' My smile disappeared and I felt someone touch me.

It was Shannon, the second she placed her hand on mine was when my mind finally came back into focus. "Are you ok?" She asked me. I shined my best fake grin for half a second and looked back down at the floor resting my head back on my hand with my elbow propped up on the arm rest of my chair; I was not ok. My best friend was just ripped away from me like someone taking candy from a baby; that easy. "I know you're not but, I'm not really sure what to say. I'm here for you if you want to talk about it." She said sympathetically.

People always say that they are there for you if you need to talk but the fact is, how do we know that for sure? How do we even begin the conversation? Why would I want to throw all my problems on someone else's shoulders? Instead of talking we lock our problems down and try to forget about them. It does not work that well though. When we do that, we cause ourselves more problems. It builds up inside, the more problems we run across the more we lock down in that tiny box in the back of our minds, until one day we explode; which is exactly what I did that day in Dr. Baker's office.

"WHY?" I screamed and then I Exploded, I let everything go. From my earliest childhood memory (the giant ball I mentioned in the beginning), to my latest problem (losing Star) and everything in between, the suicidal thoughts, the voices, the fear, the depression, the anxiety, the anger, everything. I spilled it all out and destroyed Dr. Baker's office while doing so, and I don't mean just the small room we were in, I mean the entire two-story building. I went on a rampage screaming out all off my problems breaking everything I picked up, flipped a couple desks over on their sides (the ones I could manage to flip, some were just too heavy but it didn't stop me from trying), threw pens and pencils at the walls causing them to stick like daggers (even at a few people, some stuck the landing), I threw all the office supplies around, and the harder objects like staplers, lamps and computers I smashed against the floor or threw them at people's heads.

Dr. Baker was carefully following me along with Shannon, they just listened. They did not try to stop me or anything (shocker), they just listened to what I was saying. By the time I finished ripping the building to shreds I had reached the front door (I began my rage on the second floor). I stopped and glared at the busy world outside, the building was finally quiet, my breathing was heavy, and my hair was in my face, I felt like crying as my anger slowly drifted into depression. "It does not make any since." I whispered. "What doesn't make since?" Dr. Baker asked calmly. "Why was my number the only one in her contact list?"

"Is that what all this was about?" Shannon asked.

"No. I lost my best friend, that was the tipping of the ice burg. I am so fed up. I can not take this world anymore. I want to leave."

Dr. Baker and Shannon stood quietly behind me. I broke down into tears, and fell to the floor apologizing for everything I had just done. Shannon shoved past Dr. Baker and wrapped me into a tight hug with tears streaming down her own cheeks. "It's ok, Shhh, it's ok." She repeated while I sobbed harder than I ever had before. My head was pounding, my throat was tight, and I could feel my heart rate begin to speed up; I went into an anxiety attack.

Dr. Baker raced upstairs to his office and found my bag still sitting under my chair. In any other instance he would never root through a woman's bag, but he felt like this was important. He fumbled feeling for my anxiety medicine. He began to get frustrated, like he was not moving fast enough, as if this were a life or death situation (in some cases it can be). He dumped the contents of my bag out on his desk careful to keep my belongings together so he would be able to put it all back when he was finished. Finally, in the bottom of the bag was my prescription and he raced back downstairs grabbing a bottle of water from his mini fridge as he ran.

By the time he reached me with my meds the police began to swarm the building. They leaped out of their cars with guns drawn using the car door as a shield. "Someone must have hit the panic button." Dr. Baker whispered. Then he stood abruptly and spun around to look at all his employees gathered behind him. "Who pushed the panic button? Come on! Who did it? I want to know right now!" He yelled with anger brewing stronger and his voice getting louder as he spoke. No one confessed, they all stood with fear-stricken eyes. "Dammit! Do guys see anyone in here trying to rob us?" He asked fiercely. They looked around and shook their heads. "This is not a reason to push that button! Get to picking this shit up! All of you! I will deal with the police." He turned to Shannon with his face as red as an apple freshly plucked from the tree. "Shannon could you please try to help Lizzy up to my office? You two can wait for me there. I will be up as soon as I can." He spoke in low tone, almost a whisper; took in and released a long breath before turning to face the police.

"Of course." She answered.

My mind had drifted again before we got all the way back up to his office. To be honest I don't even remember the walk back up there. What I do remember however, is Shannon and Dr. Baker begging and pleading with the cops not to take me away when they barged into Dr. Baker's office. I was too lost to respond. My heart was beating ninety to nothing, I could not catch my breath, my vision was blurry, and there was a constant high-pitched ringing in my ears. The two cops that were hauling me off (one of my arms in each of their hands with my feet dragging behind me and my head bobbing back and forth since I couldn't control it, I felt like a rag doll), they threw me into the back of one of the police cars and drove off.

To my surprise, they didn't take me to jail. Instead, they took me to a mental hospital and had me committed. The police walked me in, by this time I was able to walk and control myself. The first thing I noticed when we entered the building was the lobby, it was brightly lit and resembled a large living room, it did not seem like an office at all. There were two love seats, four recliners, and three couches that could fit four people on each one, all the furniture was brown, the walls were white with a wooden trim and base boards, everything was uniformed to fit perfectly in their spaces and matching. The next thing I noticed were the two women standing behind the desk, one had long blond hair in a curly braid resting over one shoulder, she was wearing an overload of make-up pasted on her face, the other woman had shoulder length brown hair, (she obviously chose more of a natural look), both wearing dark blue colored scrubs with the name of the mental ward embroidered on it, Mellow Estates with a house like design around the words.

'Mellow Estates? What the hell kind of name is that for a mental hospital? For one, it sounds like a hippie named it. For two, Mellow? What? What is so mellow about this place? What about Estates? Isn't that for apartments?'

I thought this to myself while the police gave my information to the blonde with the clown make-up. The brunette asked if I had any bags to take to my room, I looked at her with a blank expression. "No ma'am. Barns and I just brought her straight here after her little episode at her Psych's office." One of the officers spoke for me. "Little bitch tore the place up!" Officer Barns (the other officer) said and laughed. The brunette gave him a dirty look, "There is no need for that kind of attitude." She snapped; the blonde did not seem to care for it either.

"Come on sweetheart, I will show you to your room." The brunette spoke so sweetly, it made me wonder if they thought I was handicapped or if she was just trying to brush off the dickhead officer's comment. Either way, I did not respond and simply followed her to my new home. We stepped into the elevator, she pushed the button for the fifth floor, and as the doors were closing I could see Officer Barns staring at us, I shot him an evil smile making it known that his time was coming and I will enjoy every second of it, the doors closed completely.

The elevator stopped, the doors slowly slid open, we stepped out, and turned right passing four doors before finally stopping in front of mine. "Well, here we are! Room 524!" She said and slid the golden key into the lock. They did not have the key card locks anymore which later I found out why. Some of the patients found out how to trick the lock and sneak into other people's rooms, they would fight or have sex, or steal things. The other reason was because some of the employees thought it would be better if the patients had an actual key for their room to help them feel a little more at home rather than a patient in a hospital.

When she opened the door, I immediately understood the meaning behind the 'Estates' part of the name. It really was like a little apartment but better; it also came furnished, and fully stocked with food and drinks.

"Your new mattress has already been brought in and if you step into the room you can decide which bedding you would like, and the Orderly will be in to make it for you shortly. All the furniture is brand new, so you need not worry about that. We change the furniture out every time a resident moves out. The fridge is already stocked. You get groceries once a week so be cautious about how much you eat. You must keep your place clean as we do have random inspections. The Orderly will not clean your place for you and it would be wise not to bribe any of them to do so, they are only here to collect your trash (which you must take out and place it beside your door), change your bedding once a week, and make sure you have clean clothes. Any questions?" She explained. "Where is the tv?" I asked.

"There is only one television in the building, which is in the lobby, so if you want to watch it you must go downstairs."

"So, what am I supposed to do? Just sit here and stare at the wall?"

"The entertainment center over there in the corner has plenty of activities that you can keep your mind busy with. If there is something that you would like and do not have you may put in a request for it with the note cards provided which you will find on your countertop in the kitchen. Fill it out and place it in that mailbox next to your door."

"Can I send letters or make phone calls?"

"You may send letters, the letters will be monitored, but the only time you will be able to use the phone is for your sessions with your psychiatrist and you will continue to have your weekly one hour sessions."

"How did you know about those?"

"The police told us downstairs, were you not listening?"

"Oh, I guess not." I said and realized she called the patients residents. I gave her a questioning look as the thought crossed my mind.

"Problem?" She asked.

"No, I just realized you called people here residents instead of patients."

She gave no explanation, she just smiled. "If you need anything else just hit the buzzer on the intercom and someone will get to you as quickly as possible. My name is Samantha by the way." She said and held out her hand. "Lizzy." I said and shook her hand. "It's very nice to meet you Lizzy." She said and walked out of the room.