Chapter Eight: Meetings Are Boring.

After what seemed like an eternity of boring strategizing and discussing eventually everyone left the room. Why can't they make it less serious and add a bit of flavor or something to their discussions?

Well everyone left the room except Marco, Mig and I. I watch Mig as he stands up and walks towards the door but stops when he gets there and just leans against the wall and looks to the side thinking to himself "That's a nice wall." Trying to discract himself.

I see Marco take a deep breath and I can tell he's nervous even though he's hiding it very well. He walks around the black table and office chairs. "Do you want to meet your dad?" He asks, sitting down next to me. "Does he even know that I exist?"

I ask just staring him in the eye completely numb. For a while we sit in silence while Marco debates on what to say. "We informed him and I tried talking to him but he said he needed to see you and do a DNA test himself. It took awhile for him to even let me try and talk to him but if you're not ready we won't push it on you." Marco said, finally breaking the silence.

I debated in my head my thoughts going crazy, my face was showing nothing. "Let me read the file and I'll tell you when I'm ready." I say looking in his eyes trying not to let any of my internal emotions to seep out and show. Marco nodded and stood up.

I felt so exsposed they watched me, even if I knew someone had been watching me the whole time the feeling didn't change and it doesn't change even now. I know that there watching me, I can feel it.

This last year was weird. I was super depressed and I built up my walls and changed myself. I had internalized my feelings and stopped showing what I had left of them.

I stopped feeling almost completely and now I'm being swarmed by all of this. I knew some of it, but I pushed it aside just like everything else. I had questions but I didn't care enough about them, my subconscious mind had known about this, but I kept it buried not wanting to face the truth, and now here I am having no choice but to confront it.

The people here had seen me cry in front of them and had seen me when I was home alone in my room; laughing, crying, singing, dancing, talking to myself while I made up random scenarios.

They saw me at my current lowest and highest points and my head couldn't believe it, it didn't want to believe it. I remembered having my alter egos with me, inside of me, holding on knowing I could escape into one of them if I needed to.

I could run away and change my identity into one of them and write out their life story and pretend it was mine and change myself completely.... It was a lot more complicated than that but that was also plan Z.

Still in my own thoughts Mig picks me up without another word and carries me out and to my room. "Hey Mig." I grip onto his shirt with tears filling my eyes from being too overwhelmed.

He hums as a response. "Why." I ask looking down, tears threatening to escape my eyes. "Why what?" He opens the door to my room and starts walking me to my bed

"Never mind, can I just be left alone." I say closing my eyes hiding everything I was feeling. I felt his muscles move. My brain registering it and decrypting it tell me he was nodding. He set me on my bed and walked out the room without another word.

I looked around my room for cameras and inspected the room closely from ceiling to floor. Once I realized I was alone and wasn't being watched I finally broke down.

Tears pouring down my face for finally everything of the last year caught up to me. Personal problems and the pain that I've kept hidden came rushing to me.

"I know my life wasn't the best but I was dealing with it just fine. I had it better than a lot of people, I always had what I needed, and Marco needed an heir which he could have just asked his other family! He didn't need me, even if they do hate him! He could have passed on his gang/mafia or whatever you wanna call it to someone in his gang! I was doing just fine on my own!" I say finally breaking down in the safety of my room.

My mind right now focusing on the most recent pain. This happened about once a year besides when I went crazy psycho bitch or so my mom liked to call it and now I was finally breaking down. I hated crying. It made me feel weak. My walls were coming down but I knew once I needed to, those walls would return in a matter of seconds.

I wrapped myself in a blanket and silently cried to myself mumbling, pretending I was talking to a therapist even though I knew I was talking to myself and I was alone. I had always been alone. If I ever needed something, I did it myself. If I ever needed to talk, I kept quiet. If I ever wanted to express how I was feeling, I bottled it up.

Since the age of 4 years old Ace and I were being left alone while Keith went to the bar while he was supposed to be watching and spending time with us. My last counselor didn't help much, I was slowly fixing myself.

I was shattered, I knew I couldn't be returned to my original state but instead of trying to be what I was, I was making myself something better and more beautiful.

Maybe something like mosaic tiles, all art shares a story and I guess you could say the process of making them was kinda similar to me. I envision what I want to be and take it one piece at a time.

I was alone for about an hour crying and mumbling when there was a knock at the door. "Can I come in?" I here Migs voice from the other side the door. I wipe my tears and take a few deep breaths while putting up my walls again.

"Come in." I say while putting my head under the pile of pillows. "You good?" Mig said sitting on my bed. "Not even a little." I say groaning. "What will make you better?" Mig asked, getting closer.

"Exploding and killing everyone in my sight." I say getting out from my pile looking at him dead serious. "How about when you can walk and move properly..." Mig chuckled nervously.

"Meh." I respond laying back on my stomach. "Oh ya the doctor got here a while ago but they said give you some space.... I'll go get them." He said getting up.

A few minutes later of me dying the doctor and Mig finally walk in. "Hello Miss Atom, I'm Dr. Ashley Jacobs." She says In a sweet tone. I sit up and look at the woman. "White ass name ya got there..." I say then yawning.

Ashley didn't respond to my comment and just walked over to the side of the bed I was on with a bright fake smile. "Ok. Um... I'll be in my room... If you need me or something press the button and ya." Mig said, clapping his hands together getting up. "Good night Atom." He said walking towards the door.

"Bye." I say waving my hand dismissing him, being careful not to move my shoulders. "Ok let's look at that leg of yours Miss Atom." She said, opening her very large bag. After the doctor left I had my assistant go get Mig.

"Like a stupid cast could stop me. Now the broken bone was another story... But Ashley said my back and leg should be healed around the same time.... In about EIGHT TO TEN WEEKS!! I mean I should be able to move and walk in about 4-6 but then on the other hand I don't want to stay in this any longer than I have too... And my back I should be able to comfortably move a few days after it scabs.". I think to myself quietly my eyes roaming around the room as I think more and more trying to calculate when I can start moving and don't drive myself insane. Mig looking at me like I'm fucking crazy.

What are you doing?" Mig says in a very concerned tone. His brown eyes showing a lot of concern. "Talking to the voices. They're saying to kill you." I say without blinking.

He stops for a second and stares at me very confused and concerned. "I'm Kidding... The voices are usually much more complex than that." I say looking away while I say the last part.

I hear a shaky exhale coming from the other side of my room. "You good?" I ask looking at Mig. He just nods and starts typing on his phone rapidly as he combs his hands through his dark brown hair.

"We should eat nachos..." I say randomly. "It's one in the morning!" Mig yells. "Ya and we should have nachos." I say back. "What's wrong with him? He doesn't want nachos?". My inner monologue asks me confused.

"Aren't you tired?." He asks, very obviously tired. "I'm going through another insomniatic phase, and I'm used to a time zone that's two hours ahead of the one we are currently in... So no, not at all." I say. "You act like that's normal." He responds back.

"I go a few months where I live off maybe one to five hours of sleep cause I get woken up for school or something else. Then I have a good sleep schedule of about two weeks to maybe a month top. Then the cycle repeats... But I get a few days where I sleep all day or like 12-18 hours but it doesn't happen often. Also I wake up a lot during the night for no reason... Then I have the occasional nocturnal panic attack that I can either wake up one and deal with it if I'm awake enough or sometimes I'm tired and wake up a couple times continuing to have a panic attack tell I'm awake enough to handle it cause apparently sleep doesn't fix everything and my brain is stupid." I say as Mig just blinks a few times.

"I need sleep." Mig said getting up.