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Post by * JESSICA ANNE REXING. on Jan 2, 2010 20:45:43 GMT -5
ONE would think it'd be easier to lock up the special cases in the basement. All of the people who worked with these patients called them rooms that they resided it. Jess called them cells. Where else would someone lock someone else up? A mother couldn't lock their daughter in their room because in an ordinary house the lock was on the inside of the door, not the outside. No, the patients weren't necessarily locked up in their rooms, they were just heavily guarded. It wasn't that there were security guards with large machine guns waiting outside the door incase someone decided to break out. No, they were just supervised from cameras at all angles in the hallway. There wasn't really a way to hide from these cameras, however, it wasn't difficult to time escapes right. The door to Jessica's room had a peep hole so she could look out, and in doing so she had determined all of the times that the cameras were angled in certain directions. She kept these marked in a notebook that she had along with many other things. If anyone dared to go through her stuff, she had written her notes about the asylum in ways that nobody would recognize as these sorts of times. They were just numbers, part of her 'routine,' she would tell people.
ANYWAY, on some days, the caretakers of these patients in the basement did a pretty crappy job of making sure nobody escaped. Jess had been there for about six months by now that she now knew what days were going to be easy and which were going to be challenges to maneuver around. She constantly watched every little thing anybody ever did, and by looking out of her tiny peep hole, she had determined some people's habbits. Who knew that a little peep hole could give so much away? Jess thought that perhaps they gave her this hole in her door to try to gain her trust. Show her that nobody would come to her door to harm her. Yeah, the convincing wasn't quite working on her yet.
TODAY was one of the days that made for an easy escape, which meant that Jesse got to go to one of her favourite places at the asylum. Actually, it was only one of two favourite places. She liked the garden and the roof. She just went around the rest of the asylum when she got the chance because she was terified of the small confinement they kept her in that they referred to as a room. It was a cell, they had no reason to deny it. It was an uncomfortable place that they kept her to watch her squirm, which was why at one point she made a run for it when they opened the door. She was athletic enough to make it outside with the doctors and nurses far behind, but she had no reason for that today. Nope, she just walked outside like nothing was the matter. Only when someone stopped to question her did she walk a little faster, and began to run.
SHE was supposed to be escorted around seeing as she was a more 'troubled case.' There was nothing troubling about her. She did just didn't like people, they were going to hurt her. What was wrong with trying to protect herself? It was human nature.
JESSE only stopped running when she was deep into the garden. She loved the garden, particularly the flower beds. She could walk through the gravel paths for hours, undisturbed, without causing any harm to anyone. She couldn't see, nor hear anyone coming after her, so she just took her time, minded her own business, and took an enjoyable stroll through the flower garden. After a little bit, she sat down on a bench and just took in her calm surroundings with the breeze and beautiful scenery laid out before her. For a while, she could forget about the asylum, where she was, how much she hated it, and how the person who had questioned her was probably notifying the security guards to be on alert. It didn't matter at the moment, because she was okay.
tags: open. notes: none?
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Post by milo on Jan 18, 2010 14:26:31 GMT -5
Milo had been at the asylum for almost a year (11 months and 15 days he could tell you if you cared to ask). He functioned well here, better than he did on the outside of course, better than he did in the harsh world with t's chaos and craziness. Milo one one of the sorts they probably wouldn't ever let out. He didn't have a curable condition and even if he could cope with it, he'd never cope outside as well as he would in here. In actuality he did not mind this. He was not one of the patients constantly plotting his escape. He liked it here where things were simply and easier then they had ever been. As a level two he had a certain amount of freedom and he was more comfortable here than he had ever been. He wanted to stay. He was afraid of what would happen if he was ever let out.
He did like the outdoors though. He liked wandering through the gardens between his meals and he did so every day. It was part of his routine. He exited the building in dark, too tight clothing (he liked the feeling of the fabric on his skin and the sweet taste it brought to his mouth). He had seen another patient exiting the building and walking the paths he usually walked. It was a girl who was a level four, without her escort. Milo did not fear her and had watched her for sometime. He liked watching people. He liked seeing them.
He had a small present for her, tucked in the pocket of his jeans, for this beautiful young girl. He had folded her a perfect little father out of bright purple paper. He liked the color of the paper and the feel of it between his fingers. He folded this flower for this girl carefully and meticulously. He folded it for her because it seemed like a good idea. His therapist told him it was good to create things for other patients, to make them feel cared for, to show them kindness. Maybe this girl looked like she needed it.
"Jessica," he said when he was next to her. He had a soft and timid voice and he did not look her in the eyes. Making eye contact scared him. He fished the paper flower from his pocket and handed it to her, held it out for her to take, a simple gesture for him.
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Post by * JESSICA ANNE REXING. on Jan 18, 2010 20:59:10 GMT -5
FORGET it. That's what Jess was telling herself. She had to calm down, and keep her cool. They weren't going to hurt her here, oh but that was total bull that the pyschiatrists told her to gain her trust, to pour her guts out. She did it once; she fell for it, and never again did she dare do so. They told her they weren't going to hurt her. That's what the pyschiatrists said, but they were wrong.
WHAT was so wrong with this place, was that they tried so hard to help people - if they were any level but four. Since Jess resided in the basement, she was left to fend for herself. Not much care was given to her. She practically lived in a jail cell and whenever the head of the asylum got bored, he'd give her a sedative and run as many tests as he damn well pleased. It was terrible really. That was perhaps another reason Jessica was so paranoid. If they had just let her be, she would probably get on fine. Sure, she would look over her shoulder more than a few times in a minute, but really, she would be better off. She was scared that maybe her ex would come after her again. She was afraid of the sedatives they gave her. Afraid that they crushed up meds and threw them in her food, which was why she snuck to the kitchens quite a bit. She didn't like the tasers, but normally ended up getting tasered anyway for fighting back, breaking out of her cell, or getting too aggressive with another patient. It wasn't her fault everyone wanted to hurt her.
FOOTSTEPS began to echo in her ear. She snapped out of her daze and quickly focused her attention on where the footsteps were coming from. Thank God it wasn't the authorities. She probably would've just ran for her life, jumped a few fences and she'd be gone... and on a milk carton. So either way, she was pretty much screwed. Here she was afraid. There she was afraid. Either way she was afraid. At least this face... didn't do much. It just barely calmed her, but not enough to let her guard down. She didn't really know who he was, but she was smart enough to know he was not a staff member.
HE knew her name. Something inside of her felt bad that she didn't know his, but that was what he was trying to do. Here he was, knowing her name (which was to be expected when she was a level four) with a paper flower that was delicately created. It was nice, but it was all a fake - a plan to get under her skin, become a part of her so that she'd tell him something and he could tear her apart. Two times she reached out for the flower. Two times she drew back. Finally on the third she snatched it quickly. She didn't want to ruin it. It was probably the first nice thing anyone in this god foresaken place did for her. Still, she wasn't convinced. So with that, she put it in her pocket so the flower part was sticking out and the stem was tucked in her pocket safely.
IT could've been counted as a harsh comment, but she was no stranger to them. Without a thank you (because she wasn't sure if it was deserved), she said, "I have no idea who you are."
tags: milo. notes: none?
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Post by milo on Jan 23, 2010 20:27:36 GMT -5
Milo was quiet as the girl reached for his little gift to her. He held it out for her, only waiting for her to take it. He noticed her hesitation but found no real meaning in it and simply waited for her. He was the sort of person who would have waited until the end of the earths and back again for something like this. He would have waited for an eternity for her to take his little flower because he was a calm sort with endless paitence and it never occured to him not to wait. Eventually she snatched it from his hand and he withdrew his hand just as quickly, fearing accidental contact because he did not know what sorts of tastes such contact would bring to his tongue.
He knew the taste behind many touches, as was his synesthesia. But he did not know the taste this girl's touches would give him and he was moderately frightened of it. He liked order in the chaos and knowing things brought him this. He knew the taste of his bare feet on the shower floor, knew the taste of his friend Oliver's (a doctor) gentle hand placed on his shoulder. He knew the taste of all of his clothing as it rubbed against his skin, knew the taste of the wind on his cheek. He filed and categorized it all in his over sized brain and it brought im comfort.
This girl was new and newness scared him. But his therapist was constantly reminding him that new was okay and new was to be explored. This was what he was doing today with his voice and his little paper flower. He was exploring some newness so that he may discover what it was.
He was silent when Jessica spoke, determining how to best respond. He knew, because his therapist reminded him frequently, that people generally expected a response to whatever it was they were saying. Milo was quiet for a long time, not looking at her, tapping his fingers lightly on his leg to calm himself. The tapping was one of his ticks, like his hand flapping or rocking or banging his head. Like most autistic kids he needed that to help filter out the stimuli constantly assaulting his senses. He did eventually say something.
"Okay," he said and that was all. He was quiet for another long moment. "My name is Milo Lysander Kincade." He had a soft voice that made a deep blue sort of hue appear in his eyes, at the corner of his vision, as did most sounds. He was always berated by the colors of the sounds around him. This girl, Jessica, spoke in a very light purple color and he could tell her this if she asked. She liekly never would. No one ever did. But Milo had these colors in his head.
Milo knew a name was not who he was, was nowhere near who he was but he didn't know how to give her information that he did not really have so he just gave her his name.
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Post by * JESSICA ANNE REXING. on Jan 23, 2010 20:51:39 GMT -5
OKAY, so his name was Milo. He actually gave her his full name, as if she was going to remember or actually use it for that matter - which she wasn't. He already knew her name so there was no real sense in her introducing herself. However, in her mind there was some real sense in her asking how he knew hers. So she asked, and she wasn't the most pleasant about it. The thougth that he knew her name scared her a little bit, so she asked coldly. "Who told you my name?" Had he been watching her? Memories from before her Alkaline time were flooding back to her and they weren't the prettiest.
IT was clear she was kind of defensive, and once the authorities tracked her down it'd be clear that she was a level four. All she had to do was spot them and run. Eventually they would get her. They'd either taser, or get one of the more fit security guards to grab her while they sedated her. If that were to happen, she wouldn't care for Milo. It was a cruel truthe really, but she'd probably just leave him behind. He didn't seem the type that would hurt anyone - hence the flower. But it was all a fake. It was always just a fake. She knew that by now, so why didn't anyone just give it up?
JESSICA didn't know what to do with herself. What if he said something and got her mad? Then she'd hurt him and he'd probably give a scream, which meant that he'd potentially attract attention which meant that her hiding place (which wasn't quite a good place to hide considering most of the plants were only to her knee) would be blown and she'd have more than just one or two people chasing her. She was a level four! It wasn't like she was that Shayna girl who was only a level four because she was famous and it wasn't like famous people to be called 'insane'. No, she was different and dangerous. She was paranoid to the extent where she'd get violent, and not just a punch or two violent, but actually violent.
IT wasn't anyone's fault, and she almost wanted to warn Milo. Almost. That would ruin her plan though. It was clear that the flower was just to try to get her to open up, and she wasn't going to buy it. No. She would let him suffer the way she let everyone else. Whoever tried to hurt her would pay, and she had quite the hit list going. Milo would bump to the top with one false move.
tags: milo. notes: nada.
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Post by milo on Jan 23, 2010 21:24:40 GMT -5
Little Milo, little sweet and innocent Milo really had no idea what he was getting into with this girl. He knew about her sure. People tended to talk around Milo because they did not know he was listening to them. He not only listened, he heard. He heard whispers a if they were clear as day because he knew how to interpret the sounds. His brain was really something quite impressive. He knew about Jessica. He knew she was level four and she was paranoid and potentially violent. He knew everything spoken about her since her arrival at the asylum. He knew a lot of what she had done here, about her escape attempts and all the times they stopped her. He knew she liked to go out of bounds and sneak from her room and all that sort of stuff.
Knowing and understanding are two very different things though and Milo understood little of the information he received. He was no real threat t her, practically speaking. He was a thin, small little boy who, though accidentally violent (a punch or two violent) when pushed and pressured and provoked, he was utimatly much more harm to himself than to anyone else. He liked this girl and because of this would never hurt her. He would never, as Jessica was worried about, get to know her and tear her apart. Not intentionally at least. He was a pure soul, little Milo, if not somewhat broken. But there was no way to communicate this to the paranoid being that Jessica was.
"No one," Milo stated simply. He still would not look her in the eyes. He studied her feet instead. He studied the shoes she had on right down to the last detail. It would be one of the things he would remember until the day he died for no other reason that he remembered everything. "I have heard people call your name before." He said by way of explanation. It really was that simple for him. There was no real reason why he chose Jessica over everyone else at the asylum to give his little flower and his time and his energy to. Milo was just that sort of person.
He was not nervous and he was not scared and really all he was thinking of with any real meaning or focus was Jessica and how he could make her smile. He thought she would have quite a pretty smile.
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Post by * JESSICA ANNE REXING. on Jan 28, 2010 16:40:51 GMT -5
NOONE. That was bull, somebody must've told him her name, right? His explanation was phony too. Anybody could've come up with that despite how true it may seem due to her status in the place. Level fours tended to get the most rumours. 'Oh did you hear so and so, a level four, got sedated yesterday for such and such,' was quite often heard or hushed whispers would say, 'shh. she's coming. don't make eye contact. last i heard, when she got out of the basement she bit someone's ear off.' All of these were rumours of course. Nobody could really bite someone's ear off, could they? Actually, it was quite possible. Perhaps that would be a new tactic Jesse would try. Of course, this wouldn't be her first defense tactic. Getting someone ready to get their ear bitten off needed time and the right opportunity. Jessica wasn't going to bite off somebody's ear because they 'accidentally' knocked her down. That'd be a little extreme, even for the basement girl.
THIS was quite a predicament she had forming in her mind, all thanks to this boy, Milo's, explanation for knowing her name. First, she had to worry about what would happen if she dared to turn her back on this kid. Then she had to worry about what would have to be done in order for his ear to get bitten off by her. Jessica, she began reminding herself, that's no way to prove your point against being here. It makes you sound canibalistic and then there won't be any other place for you to be put here. They'd just kill you. And Jesse didn't want to be killed for defending herself. It was almost as if she were a dog that attacked a person out of defense. She would be the dog that they'd put to sleep for only following her instincts.
PERHAPS Milo's unintentional idea sparking words were a set up. Perhaps they were all made up so that she would either A: go about actually biting someone's ear off which could result in A1: the asylum 'accidentally' giving her too many meds (or saying that she snuck them). OR, there was plan B: realize that A was a poor judgement choice due to A1 which would result in C - C being that Milo was just trying to help her remain sane by getting into her mind and unintentionally explaining that in order to prove that she wasn't as insane as they said, she would have to let someone in so she could show she wasn't violent with everyone that provoked her, as everyone else claimed. Perhaps Milo thought that he would be the perfect candidate for the second back up plan, C. Jessica saw this and there was no way in hell that she would fall for any of that.
THE flower was all part of it too! By giving her a flower and saying her name, it provoked her to ask the question which caused him to say her name which allowed for her to instinctively question him which, as explained, led into A, A1, B, and C. So she quickly took out the flower and thrust it back at him. "I don't want it," she said cooly. She almost added, 'anymore,' to the end, but that would clearly show that something inside of her wanted it initially, which wasn't allowed in Jesse's mind. She didn't take a step back, because that could show fear, but she somewhat wanted to. Instead she just asked him accusingly, "What are you playing at?"
tags: milo. notes: poor milo. jesse's all against him : ( , and sorry for the wait. i lost muse for a day, and that day turned into five without me realizing. lo siento.
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