Chapter 1: So?...

"I don't understand where we went wrong? We gave her everything she ever wanted; toys, clothes, we even got her front row tickets to Full Moons concert last year!!"

"Yet she went and then tried to kill herself and whats her excuse..." all eyes went on me. A deep sigh escaped my lips as I finish their sentence.

"I was bored."

"She was bored! BORED!!!" Father rubbed his temples as mother hold onto his arm. I absolutely love the act they are giving. It's their best one yet. I couldn't help but let out a low laugh.

"If Mary, the Virtue of Charity, wasn't there, our baby wouldn't be here today. We own our life to her." Mother acted.

The fact that we're related disgust me.

"Yes fortunate indeed," The therapist raised his eyebrow as he wrote stuff down in his journal. "I will prescribe antidepressants for her and suggest you come by often for regular therapy sessions."

"Thank you doctor! We'll make sure to do so." Mother thanked as she grab the prescription paper from him.

Almost immediately upon exiting the building, they're caring demeanors became cold as ice as their postures straighten and their faces went back to being emotionless. Our driver, Salone, was ready for us as we made our down the sidewalk.

"Mallory, straighten your back, you look like a street rat." The icy tone of her voice was nothing new to me but something tells me I'm going to get yelled at again once we're in the car so let's not add this to the list. I straighten up as we all climb into the car as Salone closed the door behind us. As soon as the car was moving, mother and father's masks came off.

"Mallory, as soon as we get home you are to go to your room and continue your studies." Mother started as she fix her makeup.

"Have your schedule clear for the days you have therapy. You will be going there monthly from now on." Father added. Tsk. He's not even looking at me. None of them ask for my approval, i mean why would they. I'd never had a say in it. Plus this is probably the only time they came together for therapy with me. Now I'm going to have to come with excuses for why they aren't there for rest of the appointments. What a pain.

We drove around in silence until we pulled up to their work in which they both left without saying goodbye. Not like I care. Father's probably itching to bang his secretary and mother probably can't wait to meet up with her "secret" lover. I feel like barfing. I look over at the nearest billboard to see the Magical girl of Kindness sitting with a child cancer patient. Mercy is the name she goes by, I think.

"Can we go now." I called out to Salone. I could see him jump in his seat.

"Y-yes of course little miss." We continue on to home. My wrists began to burn and itch as we enter through the front gates as the house came into view. I can see Madeline, the head maid, waiting for me at the steps.

"Welcome back miss Mallory. Your parents have inform me that you are to continue your studies until dinner and to keep you under surveillance." Miss Madeline announced like a broken radio.

"Whatever." Without giving her or anyone eye contact, I sped walk all the way up to my room and lock the door. This is stupid. You think after having to experience something like this and surviving people will care more or you'll feel like doing anything but it didn't happen. NOPE! Not with this family. You can put us in a apocalyptic situation and we will never gang up together. Just as I was about to face plant in to the bed a knock went off. Before I could answer, the door flings open to reveal non other but miss Madeline holding what appears to be supper.

Without saying anything, she places the food on my desk then leaves, closing the door behind her. Stuck-up prick. What happen to keeping a close eye on me? My supper was just plain soup in a paper bowl with normal metal spoon and a water filled paper cup with today's dose of pills next to it. Like usual, I toss the pills in the trash cause why not, then inhaled the water, but didn't touch the soup. I don't trust anyone here around my food so I don't eat what they give me unless I watch them make it. Call me paranoid or whatever but you weren't the one who had to go to the hospital due to food poisoning from a sandwich which I ate with my parents who also ate the same thing all made by the same person: Kathy Simmons, one of the cooks.

I lay in bed rubbing my wrists, ignoring the hunger pains, already dreading school tomorrow. My parents have been lenient on allowing me to stay home till the appointment came; so as promised, I go back to school. The place where most of nightmares come from, literally.