Quicken

By: Junsui Kegasu

A/N: WRITING WITHDRAWLS!

Disclaimer: Don't own Thousand Foot Krutch, although, I will put Naruto on my Christmas list.

Six months of 'circle time' sure as hell gets repetitive. No one's volunteering, either; they all think the same thing. Well, I don't think anyone here is persistently talkative with the exception of Naruto, but even he's not talking. He's been here half the time I have, but that's still long enough. He knows.

Actually, this whole thing is pretty god damn pointless. Most of us realize this, I think. Hell, even Gaara, who has only been here a grand-total of a week probably recognizes it. We don't need to ask each other to know; it just happens. Come to think of it, silence is what mostly covers this room every day. You'd think Iruka would give up and find a new job.

That's what the last three counselors have done.

Silently (yet unanimously) we are determined to not 'get better.' If we wanted to get better, we wouldn't be here. This ward is for only the most stubborn patients, after all. No one – and I mean no one – cracks. There's a sick sense of pride in that, I guess. You know, the "ha, ha, you're paying for this for nothing" kind of pride.

Well, wait; I take that back. Most of our parental figures wouldn't pay for something like this. If they did, well, we obviously wouldn't have taken such drastic measures to rid ourselves of pain. None of us are shallow; we all had our motives for all the shit we inflicted upon ourselves.

Just because we don't pour our darling little, pained, corrupted hearts out to Iruka and the others doesn't mean we don't talk at all. We know everything we feel necessary to know about each other. I think the only things gone discussed are why Gaara was bruised black and blue when he got here and our conspiracy. Our conspiracy doesn't need words; it's mostly actions: a follow-the-leader type thing. One person starts something, and the rest of us will follow. No one has made a move to break our game of 'silence,' so we stay how we are. We like it like that.

Everyone knows everything about me. Well, they think they do, at least. They know that I am Akasuna Sasori; I'm here for chronic anorexia, (it would be bulimia too, but I sadly possess no gag reflex) I've been here for six months, and this ward was engendered because of me. Over six months, I've gained five pounds and lost ten more in its place. I'm looked up to as a sort of role model, since I've been here for so long. Oh, and I'm seventeen. That might have something to do with it.

After me came Neji, our resident druggie. He's smoked everything I've ever heard of living in the ghetto and then some. On top of that, he drinks, sniffs everything, and injects shit into his arm. Needless to say, less severe wards just wouldn't do, so they stuck him with me. Since we're here for completely unrelated reasons, he doesn't talk much, and we don't share a room (which still confuses me since there was room with me…I'm with Gaara; hence why I know him so much and mention him a lot.) I only know the generals – what he chooses to share with the group.

He lives with his uncle (reason left unexplained) and two cousins, all who apparently hate dislike…hate is such a strong word him, thus drugs. He's seventeen, about two months younger than me, and has been doing drugs since fourteen when he got to high school. Honestly, I'm convinced it's a fucking miracle he hasn't overdosed.

Next on the list: anger management – Naruto. He's pretty much the life of this nuthouse, kind of like the sun. Normally, a case like him would only need a two-day rescue center trip, but this place does that too. How did those two days turn into three months? Well, apparently, Naruto didn't like his counselor and nearly killed him. Straight to the 'code red ward'! (That's what we patients victims call it.) It wouldn't have been this back except that Naruto has the mindset that he is the most misunderstood person in the world. It all mingles with his screwed up temperament and he gets violent upon the poor counselors. He seems with be getting along okay with Iruka, though, so we think he'll be out of here soon.

I knew, at this rate, that it was only a short matter of time before we got someone truly suicidal. Intuitive as I am, that came in the form of Uchiha Sasuke. At fifteen, Sasuke was a vicious, addicted cutter who stopped playing around with the horizontal and diagonal slits and sliced along his vein vertically. He would've succeeded in his morbid mission, but his elder brother, "Perfection" (I highly doubt that's his actual name, but that's what Sasuke chooses to refer to him as) found him and got him sewn together before he lost too much blood. I don't really mind Sasuke, but the boy is so emo, it would make me gag if I had a gag reflex.

For a while, Naruto was the "baby" of our emotionally/mentally-demented family. Though he and Sasuke are fifteen, Naruto just turned so in October. We thought it would remain so, since our most recent addition (Sasuke) was nearly two months ago. And along came Gaara. Gaara was in the medium ward for severe/chronic schizophrenia and multiple personality disorder, but the kid hates places like this and tried suicide Sasuke-style.

How, in such a suicide-proofed place like this? His nails. Yeah, we were all in awe, too. So, the poor kid got stuck here, and he bunks with me. (Finally, I get a roommate…) We call him a kid because he doesn't turn fifteen until January, thus making him our new infant. Productive parents this joint is. Aw, look at the baby. Moving on!

Thinking of birthdays, an interesting thought has crossed my mind: today is the day before Thanksgiving. Upcoming things like this will make me nervous for another six months, since I haven't experienced them yet. Even to the bravest victim, first-time events are frightening. I'm not exaggerating, either. For Halloween, they made up trick-or-treat and exchange stories. (Needless to say, that was fruitless. The candy was laced with some kind of anti-depressant and no one talks.) We all still envy Gaara for missing that.

Other than the dreaded holidays, though, daily routines are depressingly monotonous. For three hours, we have 'circle time,' where no one shares are tension is as thick as butter, then individual counseling for two hours, (personally, I don't say much) lunch, (I'm monitored very closely, but it's gotten nowhere and force-feeding isn't allowed due to the 'peaceful, professional assistance' (PPA), so I still win) personal/peer affiliation time, where they basically lock us in the safest room possible and tell us to socialize. They don't even bind Naruto for everyone's safety; I guess they want the atmosphere to be comforting. This is where we talk, where they can't monitor us. After that, more 'circle time,' then bed. Repeat.

This is why my surprise is understandable when the fire alarm goes off. I'm not the only one; a whole chain of events happens. Neji looks (for once) alert, the shimmering glare leaving his eyes only to reveal their natural color to be no different. (Great, now I owe Gaara money.) Naruto curses rather colorfully, causing Iruka to give him a reprimanding look, Sasuke, who had been balancing on one of the chair's legs, topples to the ground with a curse, as does Gaara (but only because he's skittish…he didn't swear, either.)

Now, this was one of those unexpected, frightening events I mentioned. Never in my eternity of being here had we had a fire drill. I suppose that's because people are more than likely to escape into the free, unmonitored world. Thus, I was pretty sure it couldn't have been a drill.

Since when did we have a pyro?

Very quickly, Iruka groups us up and leads us to the nearest door. This day and its surroundings are particularly unique; the lobby is usually locked to us, and it's where we come to in order to get to the front door. We're led outside and across the street to wait. I think, of us all, I'm the most disoriented. After all, my only surroundings for six months have been white, rounded off walls with furniture in the same fashion, but blandly multicolored.

Even this minute section of reality is mind-blowing, the colors blinding. Neji takes a deep breath when one of those rancid public buses pass, polluting the air with revolting smoke. It just goes to show how the drugs have gotten to his rotted brain. Sasuke is eyeing a jagged shard of glass from a broken bottle, but Iruka's giving him a look. That just goes to show how emo he is.

It's a depressing relief to be out here. A relief because it's so damn real. Depressing because we have to go back.

Not to anyone's (well, maybe newbies like Gaara) surprise, there is a fire truck. There's also a thin stream of smoke from the tiny hole in the boys' bathroom. I guess we do have a pyro. I'll have to seek him out at lunch. I can tell that Neji and Naruto are thinking the same thing. Sasuke the lovely-desperate emo is heading for that glass while Iruka looks away from him to scold Naruto's "Holy shit!" Quickly, he grabs it and stuffs it in his pocket for later, I guess. It's so stupid though; they check him thoroughly twice a day. Even if he nicked his dick, he's screwed.

Gaara appears to be having a conversation with himself. (He has four personalities – Shukaku is violent, Bokaira is morbid, Gaara is a wimp, and Gaa-chan is utterly innocent.) Actually, I'm pretty sure it's Gaa-chan judging by how he's smiling obliviously and ignoring the police sirens. I'd kill for such innocence right now. My knowledge and curiosity as to who got us out of circle time for fifteen minutes are so overwhelming. I try to scan the crowd of victims and counselors for any hints, but I can't find any. There are some reporters though.

Wonderful, now our darling parents know how we're doing. The thought makes me snort. (Sasuke jumps like he's done something wrong. Pathetic.) My parents didn't care. I was never good enough for them, socially, academically, and mostly athletically.

get faster train harder lose lose lose he ran he ran
S T A R V A T I O N
i'm stillFATmuch tooFATnever good enoughFAT
never enough never enough
RUN HARDER!
q u i c k e n . y o u r . p a c e

My head almost aches when the memories flood like that hurricane back in August. I'm fifteen again. I'm running track again. I'm not the best. I'm not enough, not enough, not enough for them and their athletic standards. But I digress, and gigantically at that. I think it's the hardest thing for me to accept here: OUR PARENTS DIDN'T SEND US OFF IN LOVE. That was my illusion in the beginning. I guess I was really, truly, fundamentally wrong, as always.

As the mob of insanity proceeds back to the building, I'm broken from my thoughts (and I curse myself for sounding like Sasuke) and follow the group in. There's this lingering feeling, though, and I can tell that today is going to be odd. Great. Just. Fucking. Wonderful. I just love strange days. I want to go back to bed.

I figured we'd go back to circle time and 'discuss' what just happened, but oddly, Iruka leads us back to our rooms. When I hear the lock click, (it's like a prison here, I swear) I sigh in confusion. Nothing like this has ever happened before. At least I can have a nap or something, then. The cheap, plastic-stuffed-with-polyester mattress looks inviting, as does the almost-flat pillow.

Sleep won't come, though. My brain is riddled with confusion, questions, ideas, and memories. I give up on it and turn to Gaara. Not to my surprise, the lucky bastard is listening to his music. He's allowed to have it, since it quells the voices in his head along with the other personalities. It's kind of funny, his CD case looks like it belongs to four separate people, which I guess in reality, it does. Judging by the heavy-metal leakage I'm hearing, though, Shukaku is the dominant personality of the moment.

I can't talk with Shukaku; he's way too violent, so I roll back over and try that sleep thing again. This time, I feel my eyes droop, and feel most coherent thoughts slip away, like soap through my fingers. The sleep washes the suds of incoherency away, and for a blissful moment, my mind is perpetually blank. I revel in the nothingness. Then I can revel in nothing at all, or at least, nothing I'll remember. I never dream.

For some reason, it's an exerting thing when Gaara shakes me awake, two hours later, says my brain. I don't know where I get the numbers, and I never will know; clocks are apparently dangerous. Either way, I feel out of breath when I wake up and can barely sit up to stretch. I'm not sick, just…exhausted. Perhaps it's a late symptom. I was never easily exhausted, no matter how much I exercised. I needed to be the best…in everything.

"It's time to go back to the circle," my roommate informs me grimly. I wait for more; it is Bokaira, after all. "Back to the place of staring at the cracks in the ceiling and wishing they would all conform and make the roof shatter, thus crushing us all and ending the torment."

Yes, I am back in reality. No more blank nothingness; no more bliss. Back to the world of emotion, the world of numbness. Hey, I never said that I wasn't emo.

Gaara has already left the room as I tried to gather my composure, so I swing my legs over the side of the bed and grimace at the cold thunk as they smack into the floor. There's another disadvantage to being tall, the other one that I despise being that it's mandatory that I weigh more. I was depressed as hell to find that Gaara weighed less than me. Everyone else is over me; I took a sense of pride in that.

As we're not allowed to wear shoes in this place, (My foot doesn't even remember what it feels like to be encased in a shoe anymore) it doesn't really matter if I put on socks or not. This place is so immaculate, no one's foot ever gets diseased, not even mine with my low immune system from starvation. When I stand up, I notice that in my sleep, my pants have ridden up (not surprising, given that their at least four inches too big for my waist.) and haven't quite slid back down to reside just-barely-clinging to my hips. I find satisfaction in the pregnant bulge of my anklebone before my pants fall back down to their usual residence, hanging over my toes now.

In this place, I've learned that the less of the problem the counselors can see, the better. I don't have clothing that fits me correctly anyways, at least, not that they would let me bring in here. Drawstrings are considered weapons. The only things we can wear are sweatpants or anything with elastic. No jeans. No shirt displaying profanity. Most importantly, no long sleeves. They want to know you haven't managed to find any danger in their infant-proofed world.

Trudging down the hall silently, I realize that today's schedule was too messed up to be shrugged off. I could try to put up the illusion that I wasn't unnerved, but in a place where they don't officially reveal the schedule to you and there are no clocks anyways, this is one of those breath-stealing blows that you dread. Or those shots you get in your elbow. God, just thinking of the sensation there makes me shudder. I'm anorexic, not suicidal. Remember that.

When I make it to circle Hell, the difference blows me away. No one is sitting where they used to. Our original order was me in the dark corner, Sasuke next to me, (he's mad because I have the darkness) Neji next to him by the wall with all of those self-confidence-boosting posters. (he stares at them and makes it look like he's interested when in truth, he's going through silent, painful withdrawal. He hasn't told me, but the way he did drugs, and the way they just took him off like that wasn't exactly fair. You can't blame the guy for spacing out every so often.)

Bam! No more for you, it's
b a d
justkeepsayingthat YOU DON'T NEED IT andtheneverythingwillworkout
A D D I C T I O N W I T H D R A W A L
q u i c k e n the injection

Gaara is next to Neji, in the other corner, not so dark as mine, but still a corner, and he can hide there. No one says anything about him stealing anyone's corner, though, because A) it's kind of close to Iruka, still. (Since Gaara's new, Iruka is still keeping very close watch on him) and B) He's the baby. Still, we have four corners. It's a shame the other two aren't in usage; they give us so much security. Everyone wants to sit in one except for Naruto, because Naruto (as aforementioned) gets along well with our counselor. He doesn't speak at circle, but Iruka's his personal counselor, too, and he talks there.

However, today, I walk in the room to find such a mind-blowing difference, it nearly angers me. My corner, my spot, my salvation (okay, that's a little far…) has been taken. If anything, I would suspect Sasuke of doing it, since he always wants my corner (never Gaara's because it isn't as dark) but it's not Sasuke there, unless Sasuke has gone blonde.

There's a new kid sitting in my chair. All the other new kids sat right by Iruka. I don't know if he mandated it or if that's just what they did at first, but obviously, this kid has a different style of thinking. Good for her, except she's in my chair. I want to go up to her and reclaim it, but she looks so…nonchalant sitting there. Basically the American-girl stereotype with long, blonde hair, she puts a different style to that, too. Most blondes (the stereotype) like to have their pretty face exposed to the world, and this one doesn't. The rest of those bleached locks are held up in a tight (it looks painful) high ponytail that resides at the top of her head. From where I grew up, this is the longest hair I've ever seen.

Iruka is too busy talking to Naruto to notice that I haven't taken a seat. Everyone else keeps looking at me, and then looking at the thief. They want to know what I'll do. It's kind of obvious that I really don't like change all that much, so something like this is…well, disastrous for me! I can't blame this girl, though; she's new. How was she supposed to know Akasuna Sasoriowned that seat, unofficially, but still, I have seniority!

With a grudge, I take the seat next to Gaara, which is where this new girl probably should've sat. He gives me a look, but his eyes are always so masked that I can't tell what personality it is until he speaks. Gaara changes at a rapid pace. Technically, he should've been sent here right away. But to do that, it does cost money. People like us, who got moved up from the lower wards because we're stubborn don't require a fee. At least, I doubt we do. God knows my parents, Neji's uncle, Naruto's caretaker, Sasuke's brother, and Gaara's father would pay a thing.

It's kind of weird how I'm the only one who lives with two parents. They can blame the other four's depression/insanity/anger on lack of decent parents, but I have two 'loving' biological parents who only want the best for me. At least, that's how you're supposed to do it. I actually have two disappointed biological parents who only want me to be the best. And I'm not. No one is, not even them in their perfect world.

I guess I'm somewhat lucky, though. Neji's uncle neglected him; (from what I've heard) Naruto's foster parents just didn't know what to do with his temperament and gave up on him when what he really needed was some love, Sasuke's brother was the me of his family, except that he actually did become the 'best,' and after their parents died, he got on Sasuke's case and tried to turn him into his clone, and from what Gaara (Bokaira – Gaara himself is too reserved to talk about things like this) has told me, his dad needs to be put in jail.

I can't help but wonder what this kid's story is. How are her parents? Why is she here? Was she pushed to perfection? Or did someone hurt her enough to make her opt for some form of self-mutilation? I hope we have personal today. I want to find out about this kid. (I say kid because she looks younger than me.) However, me in my screwed up mind frame wants to skip circle entirely and just go there. Right now.

Before I can dwell on that, Iruka calls our attention to him. We're not bad kids, like we don't misbehave for Iruka, we just don't…participate. And he can't make us. That's another part of the same PPA that can't force-feed me. They can only wait for us to crack under the blinding white surroundings. Thus far, it has gotten nowhere, needless to say.

"I'd like to bring your attention to the fact that we have another person in our group," Iruka told them all. "Deidara, would you care to introduce yourself?" Something about his tone is hopeful. Hope that we'll actually have someone who talks, who will manage to break into our shells and get us to open up too. He wants this girl to heal us.

Ha, as if that will happen…famous last words.

"You just did it for me, yeah."

Who the hell said that? It couldn't have been… Deidara isn't a girl? Whoa…and I thought Sasuke was feminine…o-kaaay… moving on. He's got one mouth on him, though. Iruka was kind of stupid to ask something like that in a group like this. We don't participate; we're uncooperative. Right there, that boy has just said more than any of us (except Naruto) have dare said in circle. If Iruka's lucky, he gets a grunt of agreement or a 'no,' but no one ever elaborates, so he just gives up.

Sighing in defeat, Iruka puts two fingers to his temple and massages. I guess today has been stressful for him. Well, with everything that happened today… wait… I feel my eyes widen in realization. In my slumber-ridden mind (I'm slow to wake) I hadn't even considered that Deidara just might be the pyro. So this is the person responsible for messing up our schedules…I would growl if I weren't determined not to speak.

And I knew, just knew, that right then, my life was changed forever.

Quicken the t i m e.

Yosh. Your ever-so-lovely JK has decided that she has finished her chapter and – ACK – it's six-thirty AM! NO! I have to get to the bus stop…God dammit; you'll get this after school.

Edit: HA, IT IS NOW AFTER SCHOOL AND -…omfg, now we're going out for dinner! GRR, YOU'LL GET IT AFTER THAT, THEN.

Edit Number Two: Well, your ever-so-lovely JK went to a friend's house to sleep over (waves to Shiranui Genma – I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE!) and now, over twenty-four hours after the finished product was typed. Enjoy.