when you find you *open*

[Imogen Winters]

It was actually a funny story; why he was here. He wasn't a social person at all, yet he was sitting in the very room that would inevitably put him out there as a person wanting to socialize when in fact he could have willingly passed. But how could he tell a person to back off and leave him alone, nicely? It just wasn't possible without starting a fight and at the moment he didn't need one. It was only the second day he'd been here and still - still he hadn't gotten his gun - his only gun at that. It wasn't everyday that you found a .90 caliber shot gun on the side of the road fully loaded and waiting for you to shoot at something. No, they'd confiscated it and he had to watch them take it away. He had no clue what they'd done to it nor where it was but he figured that one of the pricks who ran the place was using it to terrorize an inmate. He hoped his assumption was right because then he wouldn't have to think of the inevitable - that they destroyed it.

At the moment, Imogen sat silently flipping through a book titled The Catcher in the Rye. He'd read it at least three times and he was still always interested to read it. Hopefully this would show anyone who walked in or was already in the room that he rather no be bothered - that he rather read a very good book - one of the greatest books in American history on his own. He didn't need anyone hovering over his shoulder, pointing out that that was the funniest part in the book or the saddest. He had only one opinion of the book and that was his own. He didn't need help from not a one person.

So there he sat, lonely and bored but content, but he wanted - really wanted the cold dark metal of his gun in his hands. Ahhh. He just want to scream. He wanted to scream because he didn't have what he wanted and he'd been a good little boy about being here. He hadn't acted out like the other people who were already here. He'd acted shy, and slightly confused about his actions. Why wasn't his gun in his hand or why didn't he at least have a toy gun? Sighing his attention returned back to the book, his thoughts skipping around but always returning to his book. That's when he heard something - something directed to him. "Hey you. You with the wolf hair." Could this person be a little more original? He'd been told that a million times, but apart from the insult he wasn't in the mood to talk. He didn't need to talk.

His eyes moved slowly away from the book, meeting the eyes of a boy, seemingly normal in appearance although he didn't know what was going on in his head. Although he acknowledged the person with his glance, his eyes did not stay. But the voice came back. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!" the voice rose, but Imogen did not make a move. His blood was rushing and he wanted his gun so he could feel stronger, so he wouldn't have to be the one to go out of control. "When I talk you lis-" That's when Imogen sprang. He wasn't thinking, and as he heard the book clattered to the floor, the contact that Imogen initiated connected with the boys throat. Two skinny arms wrapped around a bigger neck, while he was getting pushed by the momentarily startled boy. "Leave me...leave me alone!" he said shaking all over as the blood rushed and his fingers tightened around the boys throat, trying to break a major artery or vein. The boys grasps at him to let go became more urgent. Imogen grinned at the boy, and for once felt bigger without his gun until the boy landed a blow to his stomach - his weak spot. His fingers loosened and he felt himself falling - just falling. "St-Stop." he mumbled, as the boys fist connected with his stomach once again. He curled and that was all that came after that.

He was curled pathetically on the floor and he would receive attention unwanted. He would kill the boy; once he had his gun. He needed it.

word count: 763
note: i got carried away. i was making a story out of this haha
tag: open!
outfit: red scarf, dark blue skinny jeans, white t-shirt

[ashleigh jane harper]

you make me wanna [SCREAM]

She quite honestly hated this room. She terrified of people and this was the one place that she was guranteed to be surrounded by people. The irony was there and ideally she would be back in her room, but her therapist had been telling her that she needed to 'join the group' more. And unlike a lot of the people here, Ashleigh really did want to get better. It wasn't like she had an addiction or liked doing something that other people didn't get, she had a real problem that made it impossible for her to interact with other people the right way even when she wanted too. And since her therapist had promised that if she really put herself out there, she would seriously consider letting her have a few more privledges, she was trying to do just that. And for Ashleigh, being in this room, was pretty out there.

Of course, she wasn't actually socializing. Sitting in the corner with a book wasn't really trying to make friends. On the positive side, it was Pride and Prejudice was a good book to be avoiding people with... She was pretty into the novel, when a sudden, harsh voice startled her out of it. At first, she thought he might be talking to her, that was just a knee-jerk reaction. Her assumption was that everything bad must be directed at her. But, that bad thing was directed at a boy who's hair actually did resemble a wolf's... not that the other guy needed to point that out. Her eyes stayed locked on the two boys while the one standing spoke again. Suddenly, the boy that had been reading launched off the couch and was choking the guy who had started it. Ashleigh was so startled she jumped a little, but she didn't make a noise.

She looked away from the now violent scene and noticed that everyone else was acting like nothing was going on. That was another reminder of the kind of place she was in. Violence deeply disturbed her, but to everyone else, it wasn't even worth looking away from the TV for. She heard a muffled thud and a quick glance revealed that it was made by the boy who had been choking the other, falling onto the ground. If she had known it was coming, she would have looked away before the blow went to his stomach, but unfortunately, she wasn't psychic, so she accidentally saw it. Ashleigh winced and felt her not so strong stomach flip. She had expected more to happen after that, but the boy who had won just walked away and the other boy laid on the ground.

Ashleigh could see his book, lying where it had landed when he jumped off the couch. A couple of other people were looking down at him now and snickering, she felt bad for just letting the whole thing happen. Then again, what could she have done ? Called a nurse ? Thrown her book at them ? She got out of her seat and went over to his book, picking it up and carrying it over to him. Ashleigh didn't want to set it on his stomach, not knowing if that would hurt him, so she laid it next to him, feeling her cheeks redden with embarrassment for not doing more, but she knew her stutter would act up if she tried to say something. So, she headed back to her seat and lifted her book back up, trying to find the sentence she had last read.

[Imogen Winters]

Oh, it was simple, all he had to do was get up and leave the room, yes? Yet, he found himself curled on the floor longer than he'd anticipated. He didn't want to feel this way, nor did he feel it was right for himself to just be curled on the floor and doing nothing about his own pain. He laid their curled up in his little ball, waiting for the boy to come back and send in another round of punches to his back or even worse, his head. It was something he anticipated happening, but didn't want to happen. His mind strayed to getting his gun wherever it was. He wanted it back, wanted it back so badly he would do anything to get it back. The nurses and doctors here acted as if he would shoot the inmates but what good would that do him? Maybe he'd kill the boy who'd kicked him in the stomach repeatedly but who would miss him? He was a jerk anyways and it would be a relief to everyone.

He would be doing everyone a favor. He knew in his best defense that he was. But right now he didn't want to dwell on what just happened, all he knew at the present moment was that he had to get up and get out before anyone came up to him. He didn't need anyone's help, nor did he feel like uttering a word. Everyone was way to focused on the T.V and way to accustomed to fights that they didn't even watch the fight. He figured that went for everyone. Slowly inching himself up on all fours, he panted slightly at the pain coursing through his stomach. Groaning internally, he stood up on feet, his shoulder slumped. From the corner of his eyes he could see a girl walk over to his book and place it next to him. He did not say a word, nor did he actually meet the girls eyes although he was sure she'd done the same. She quickly retreated and sat in her own little corner, which he wished he could have done a minute ago. He should have never acted the way he had.

He stood finally, his hair in tuffs around his head. He looked around the room, everyone's attention was not on him. He did a 180 around once again, eying the one girl in the corner. She'd helped him, so a thank you was due, wasn't it? He took his book in his hands, and slowly and cautiously made his way over to the girl. She looked to be heavily engrossed in her book, which he'd read at least two times and within those two times he'd never fully understood the book. Only that Elizabeth fell in love with Darcy, the stubborn, cruel one who wouldn't dance with anyone out of his group of friends per say. But back to the pleasantries at hand. He had to thank her for being the only one to give him his book back even though he didn't really think she was entitled to a thank you. It was just him being polite. "Hey, thanks. I'm Imogen." he said, looking at her squarely. Wasn't that good enough? He wasn't really good with the thank you and apologies. That's why he made sure nobody went out of their way to help him.

word count: 589
notes: nothing to write...so it's shorter
tag: ashleigh

[ashleigh jane harper]

you make me wanna [SCREAM]

She had just found her place when she heard someone approach. Out of habit, her blue eyes widened in fear before she made them relax. After several meetings with her therapist, she had learned that if she couldn’t actually be comfortable around people, she could at least pretend she was. That way it looked like she was making progress and not every single person she met got freaked out by the way she acted. Her mind didn’t really process that he was speaking to her, and instead she was figuring out whether or not she had a legitimate reason to be scared of him.

He had launched himself onto another guy’s back and choked him until he was thrown off, but then again, right now he seemed fairly normal. But a lot of the people here appeared normal. She hadn’t insulted his hair, so maybe she didn’t need to worry about him jumping on her in the same way ? Only a moment after he had finished speaking, she realized she hadn’t said anything back and hurried out a reply. She had a bad habit of losing track of when people had stopped talking and that made her seem even odder. Fortunately, over time she had learned the trick of remembering what people said even when she was only half paying attention.

“N-no problem.” Well, at least the stuttering wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought it would be. Oh, wait, he had told her his name too, hadn’t he ? Imogen was a bit of an odd name, but she wasn’t going to comment on that. She’d just give him her name. “I’m Ashleigh.” There we go. No stutter that time. Maybe those breathing exercises could do the trick every time. Just going a day and not having to worry about her stutter acting up whenever she felt uncomfortable would be a huge relief.

Going back to her internal debate, she wasn’t sure what to think of him based on the two minutes that had passed since she first saw him. She was at least getting better at keeping herself from showing all of her thoughts and emotions on her face, but she was fairly certain a slight trace of fear was still visible in her eyes. Not wanting to let there be an awkward silence, she read the title of his book.
“C-Catcher in the Rye ? I liked that.” After the words were out, she realized how stupid it had sounded. Apparently small talk was yet another thing she had to work on.

[Imogen Winters]

Imogen looked at the girl blankly, trying to see if their conversation would go anywhere, but the girl seemed to be struggling between listening to him and reading. Maybe he should just leave her be to read her book and then he could go to his corner and finish his book perhaps. It would get his mind off of everything that had just happened to him in this very room. Instead of turning his back on the girl right then and there, Imogen lowered himself so he was sitting on the rug on the hard ground of the room. He looked around once, his book clasp in his child like fingers. Imogen paid no attention to her stutter, he figured that she'd been caught off guard by him just coming out of nowhere to apologize to her and introducing himself.

He stared at her for a while, before a small smirk curled on his face, although right at this moment he wished he was doing something else, like talking to one of the staff here and pocking jokes that them. It would have been a lot more entertaining than just sitting here talking to a girl that didn't really want to be talked to. He wondered why she even helped him if she had no intent of talking to him in the case of if he wanted to apologize. She might as well have just stayed in her little corner and let him cower in the fetal position. She could be just like everyone else, their attention diverted and he would have no hard feelings. He didn't even know half the people here. Therefore why would he call her out if she didn't help?

"Nice to meet you Ashleigh." he said, smiling kindly. He gave another sweep of the room before his eyes fell on her again.

The way she'd stated her sentence just seemed weird to him, but he kept that same kind smile on his face, although right at this moment he wanted to grimace. He tilted his head to the side and his eyes slightly widened. "The book? Or the character?" he said, curiosity playing behind his eyes. He looked at the girl curiously in general. She stuttered but she was also very pretty. From that comment anyone could deduce that he was being a little more than shallow, but he was only taking this from his observations and she hadn't really offered up much.

"So why are you here?" he asked, his voice a whisper to his confusion. Why was he suddenly whispering? He folded his hands together, placing them into his lap. He looked up at the girls blond locks, wanting to touch them, but thinking that was to...touchy for her. He didn't want to invade her bubble, just as he didn't want her invading his bubble. He guessed the whole conversation thing was hard for them both because he was sure he'd be asking all the questions while she sat there and looked pretty even despite her stutter. His wolfish brunette hair flopped into his face, and he swiped it back angrily. He really did need to cut his hair but it was more of a thing where he didn't want to. His hair was his signature look and taking it away would...make him just another kid in a messed up place.

word count: 589
note: ladadada
tag: ashleigh

[ashleigh jane harper]

you make me wanna [SCREAM]

Okay, breathe, keep inhaling.

"Nice to meet you too." The words came out a little slowly, but at least there was no stutter this time. All in all, that was an improvement for her. The stutter wasn't one of her listed conditions, it was just a nervous tick of hers. Which wouldn't be such a big deal if she wasn't nervous most of the time. After her ridiculously awkward attempt at being normal, she had expected a snicker or something along those lines, but he just kept smiling at her. And not the annoying 'Aw, you're stupid and probably crazy as hell' smile. It was relatively normal.

Now that he was sitting safely on the floor, she felt a little more relaxed and almost didn't need to use those breathing excersises, though she kept them up just as a precaution. It made him seem a whole lot less threatening when she was up higher than he was. And it also helped that the way he was sitting made him look a little like a child. He asked her if she meant the character or the book, and she smiled a little. She really should have clarified a little bit, but socializing really wasn’t one of her strong points. “Both. The character kind of made the book.”

Ashleigh wasn’t sure why he was whispering, but she had to lean forward a little to catch what he was saying. Oh, he wanted to know why she was here. Yes, that was a fairly common question. She only ever willingly told people the technical medical terms of her conditions and left it at that.
“Uh, p-paranoia and panic attacks.” She pushed her hair out of her face just out of habit and took a moment to be mad at herself for letting the stutter creep back. At least she’d gotten rid of it before it affected the entire sentence.

“Why’re you here ?” she asked out of curiosity. He seemed normal sitting there talking to her, but she had just seen him jump onto a guy’s back and try to strangle him. She had learned it was nearly impossible to go by appearances or even how people acted here. But that was something she had learned mostly through her observations. She wasn’t really big on experiencing things like that first hand. And since it was pretty much guaranteed that everyone in here had some kind of problem, at least she had a legitimate excuse to hide out in her room. If only that excuse worked on her therapist, she’d have it made….

[Imogen Winters]

Imogen nodded his head in understand, but what she'd said was in a way wrong. The author made a character whom narrated the book, seemed more correct than what she'd said even though it could possibly mean the same thing, but to him it was a difference no matter how slight. "Well, not completely. The author made Holden the character whom told the novel. Holden and the book as a whole is a completely different perspective. You can like Holden's attitude but not like how the novel is progressing." Imogen said a crooked smile on his face. Honestly, he never really meant to correct people, but when it came down to it, he always wanted things clarified in his mind and in the person he was talking to. Hopefully she wouldn't take offense to his lack of just leaving the point be, like any other person would.

Imogen looked up at her as she inclined forward. He looked up into her eyes as she told him she was here because she had panic attacks and paranoia. Those were fairly generic diagnoses and he wasn't even sure if she belonged here. Everyone had those strange panic attacks, everyone was paranoid of something in their lives. Nothing a therapist couldn't take care of; and to be honest the people of the world were misinformed about just about everything. They said people that stuttered, were mentally stupid, they said people who shot up a whole school were mentally crazy, they said people that had panic attacks more than others needed to be sent away. Which brought him to her; she looked normal enough and she didn't act any differently than the next person that was nervous. He on the other hand, had a reason to be here.

In a way, this was protecting the people of the world by him being here. Imogen knew that the girl would direct her question back at him, so he was ready with a simple answer, just as her answer had been simple. No, he wouldn't tell her that he'd killed his father in cold blood and went to sleep afterward. No, he wouldn't tell her that he would have taken his mothers life if she'd been home. No, he wouldn't tell her he would have never been here if his mother hadn't fought for him to be brought here instead of prison. Those were the things that he held dear to his heart and would never tell anyone here. You couldn't exactly trust anyone around here and it was hard to do so with a complete stranger who say above you, looking down on you as if you were a child.

He paused for a moment, shrugging his shoulder. "I have some violent issues. I'm intrigued by violence. " he said with a toothy grin. "As you might has seen..." he said trailing off. He was sure she wouldn't forget seeing as she'd probably been watching to have given him his book afterward. He looked up at the girl innocently, hiding his want to get out of here while he could. "So...How do you deal with these people? You seem so normal and - well they could rip you apart." he stated quite bluntly. He was sure she was aware of that fact, but who was he to judge. She could be a crazy serial killer underneath it all, just as everyone else had a hidden secret that they hid from the world.

word count: 595
note: hummm
tag: ashleigh