Page 17 of Fragmented Illusions

Well, you are sick.

You hear voices—you hear mine.

That’s not what I mean!I shout inside of my head, but the voice merely cackles before leaving me again.

This cannot be happening right now.

“I didn’tseeanything!” I scream at them both. “I’m not sick anymore! I’m all better! Please believe me. Please, please, please,” I plead. I kneel in front of them both and lay my head on their legs, crying into the material of their pants.

I feel hopeless.

I should have known no one was going to believe me.

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll get your meds figured out and get you all better. Maybe it was one of your night terrors.” My father’s voice breaks through my sobbing, and I tense.

All I am is sick to them. All I willeverbe is their sick daughter. The daughter who has to take a handful of pills every day to be “normal.” The daughter who tried to jump off a bridge one night because the voices inside of her head told her she would be better off.

Or maybe that was just me.

My parents know it all—because the therapist I told every tiny little secret to spilled her guts to them for a big paycheck. Not that I blame my parents for it—because I don’t. They were worried and wanted to know what was going on with me, which was understandable.

I blame my old therapist. Because she knew she was breaking the law. But not only that, she broke my confidence, my trust.

She is the reason why I don’t tell a single soul about the shit in my head anymore.

I’m all alone.

I have to face these men… who want to “play” with me all alone.

Because no one believes me.

Who would ever believe the sick girl?

No one.

Chapter Five

Solomon

Fallon.

That was her name.

It didn’t take me very long at all to figure it out. With a pretty face like hers, it was easy. Her hair, as red as fire. Eyes as blue as the Caribbean Ocean. Freckles dusting every inch of her skin. She was fucking beautiful.

And her beauty is what made me break my rules.

I have to play with her. Know her.Break her.

I know I’m going to end up regretting it, but I can’t bring myself to know regret as of yet. The fun hasn’t even begun—but it’s about to.

“What do we do first?” Spencer’s voice breaks through my thoughts of Fallon, and I grit my teeth. I ignore him as I type away on my computer, working on a paper for my English class while simultaneously digging up everything I can find on Fallon, which is slightly more difficult than I first expected, but still possible.

I feel for Spencer—more than anything. He’s my little brother. My best friend. My literal partner in crime, but goddamn he annoys the fuck out of me sometimes with his childlike eagerness.

I guess that’s to be expected with him being four years younger than me. He’s eighteen and a freshman this year. I’m almost twenty-two and in my senior year. I’ve been doing this for years and he’s only recently started coming along with me—but that doesn’t mean this year was the start for him.

I always knew he was different—that we both were—but I never knew it would go this deep. The connection I feel with him is otherworldly and to trust someone so inexplicably is the best feeling in the world.