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You tried to make me go to rehab...	By : Hayley666 Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > HIM Views: 1366 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or know any members of HIM. This is a work of fiction and I make no profit from it.

Chapter List
- 1-1 - Ville
- 2-2 - Eve
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Eve drifted listlessly from room to room, pausing to stare blankly at the empty fridge or overflowing mail slot before drifting off again without ever actually doing anything. She stared at the TV, never taking in a word, the screen a blur of colour and noise. She read books but did not see the words, her eyes and hands putting on a show for no one to see. The nothingness filled her hours, but gave time no meaning. Weeks could have passed, months, maybe as little as days for the days merged with the nights, never quite one, nor yet the other and so it was impossible for her to keep count. Not that she was trying.
Scars littered her arms, not suicide attempts but cries for help. But they were like the sound of a tree falling in an empty wood, the sound of a life crashing towards nonexistence with no one around to hear it. And yet Eve was not alone. Plagued by fears and memories past, she was forever shadowed by her imagination, more real to her than the people she considered herself closest too. However with them she was alone, surrounded by ghosts that did not care to talk or listen to her. With them loneliness screamed to her, so loudly the words were mere noise, blocking the whispered words of all life that was worth living for. And so she could not stand to be with people, preferring the company she kept with her own mind than the solitude she felt with others.
Eve had no clue who called then, but suddenly they were there, banging at her door, calling to her through the stacks of letters and papers that blocked the opening to the letter box. She tried to ignore them, wondered if they were just in her head, new company for old memories. Bitterly realistic, playing on her worst fears to perfection, taunting her and loving it. Nothing however, could make them go away. Not closing her eyes and covering her ears, not screaming at them to leave her alone. If anything this made them louder, stronger, more determined to get to her, into her home and into her mind.
After a while it seemed that the battle had been won, that she had driven the worst of her imagination to the back of her mind, locked away, for the voices stopped, the opening to the letter box had fallen back into place. The war however, was not over, and as Eve dared to leave the safety of her bedroom the sound of a key turning in the lock of her front door send a shiver of panic down her spine. It was followed by the gentle calling of her elderly landlord, and Eve knew then that this was no longer her imagination. This was real; this was happening and there was no escaping what was to come. Soon the room was filled with people, strangers and familiar faces, her landlord, doctors, people in uniform with faces that she looked straight through. The spoke to her, and although she knew what they were saying she did not hear them. This tune had been sung to her so many a time before that so could recognize the movements of peoples lips, the shape’s their mouths formed as they said the words. She was being sectioned. She didn’t react to that, knew it was coming and had prepared herself for it. The doctors looked shocked at her lack of reaction, irritated that she was wasting their time. The people in uniform, police and paramedics, lead her into her bedroom and tried to make her pack a bag. Again she knew what they were saying, but choose to stare blankly at them as if she couldn’t quite grasp what they wanted her to do. Their voice’s stayed gentle, marred however with irritation as they continued to try and get her to pack a bag. The opened the wardrobe for her, pointed out things that she might like to take with her, but she didn’t move, didn’t reach to anything, just stayed staring blankly at them. Why should she pack a bag when she didn’t want to go? In the end they gave up, did not pack for her as they weren’t allowed, and steered her towards the front door where an ambulance was waiting for her. She was scarcely dressed in a thin matching pyjama set, thick with the scent of stale sweat, the clothes having remained on her body, unchanged, for almost two weeks. Someone was kind enough to wrap a coat around her quaking shoulders but she went out into the unrelenting January cold barefoot, feet jerking upwards as they grazed the frozen snow covered ground. Eve kept her head ducked, allowed the soft guiding hands of the paramedics to get her safely into the back of the ambulance, not really caring if that didn’t happen. They continued to talk to her, and she continued not to listen, to look through them when she caught sight of them, to stare blankly as if she didn’t know what was going on. By the time the ambulance was on its way, they had given up, had fallen quiet.
The ambulance barrelled silently on towards the only unit with a vacancy within a 50 mile radius, a private hospital that rarely took the NHS overspill, but was making an exception for the busy holiday period. The realisation hit her on the uneventful journey, where she was going, what it entailed and in a heartbeat she changed. Gone was the blank stare, the eerie silence and the emptiness, replaced by poignant glares, rapid questioning and attempts at the doors of the moving ambulance. Eve was determined not to go down without a fight, and although she knew she was fighting a losing battle she was going to fight it nevertheless. She barely even paused for breath, not even bothering to let the paramedics answer her constant questions. When it became obvious that she was not going to get out of the ambulance, she freaked out even more so, kicking the door repeatedly with curled fists and aching toes. She screamed, she cried, jerked away from the hands of the paramedics, desperate in her attempts to get away and prevent the inevitable. The paramedics were quick to respond to her actions, her frantic behaviour mere routine for them. Within two minute’s they had her as under control as possible, arms pined to her side, legs held still, her voice the only weapon she could still use, and she used it well. Cursing and screaming, her voice as loud as she could make it Eve thrashed her body violently knowing it was doing little to help her situation yet not caring all the same. This continued on for the rest of the journey, with Eve not once letting up her screams and cries and the paramedics not faltering in holding her still. That all changed when they got to the hospital.
Eve took her chance during the brief distraction that was the back doors of the ambulance opening and broke herself free from those holding her. She timed her escape well, and was out the door and running towards the unknown streets ahead before anyone knew what to do about it. Eve did not care that she didn’t know where she was, where she could go, that she was barefoot, all that mattered was that she got away. She was caught before she got to the road, grabbed from behind by frantic psychiatric nurse’s and turned towards the hospital entrance, marched towards the waiting doctor with a needle full of something that Eve knew would have her sleeping for the next 48 hours. And that’s when the screaming started again; continuing on endlessly despite the reassurance’s of the staff, until the drugs kicked in and the world went black.
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You tried to make me go to rehab...