"I was all on my own."

-Loving Is Easy, Rex Orange County

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"Redwood Academy for Troubled Youths can give you the support you need to recover a more stable mindset."

The therapist's words ring around my head as the car rolls along the gravel road, passing crowds of deep green trees and rolling hills.

The Rural Dream for some. A Living Nightmare for others.

"It's only for a little while. At least until you are well enough to come home. We'll come visit at Christmas."

Mother's reassuring words worm their way into the front of my mind. And although her voice has remained calm throughout this long, tiring process, I know she is afraid for me.

Afraid of you, don't you mean? one of the voices says. Only to me. Only in my head.

I guess so.

I glance at her in the passenger seat, nervously clasping her hands together on her lap while Father's knuckles are going white from gripping the steering wheel too hard. He has barely spoken to me since the incident. But those cold, grey eyes never failed to follow me as I poured my cereal into my bowl in the morning or headed through the door to the therapist's office every Thursday evening.

I stare down at my own hands, which are gripping each other a lot like Mother's. Except I'm not afraid of my transfer to Redwood Academy. I'm more afraid of myself.

I'm like a ticking time bomb; at any moment I could just explode and do something even worse than the last time. And the voices that I can hear in my head while no one else can are what triggers it. Ever since the accident a year ago. Ever since the night Mother's car swerved and crashed into a tree, forcing my head against the dash in front of the passenger seat.

I shudder at the memory of what happened last time the voices took control and fiddle with the white wire of my earphones.

"You're going to be all right, Olivia," Mother assures for the tenth time today, but I guessed earlier on that she's doing it more to reassure herself. Fair enough, she needs all the reassurance she can get- her once proud family has spiralled into this catastrophic end.

But it's giving her a false sense of hope, this reassurance. I'm being transferred to a boarding school which was built for basket cases like me. For boys with blood on their hands and girls with knives up their sleeves. So if she thinks this is going to be a breeze, then maybe this false hope isn't such a good thing.

"If you say it one more time it might actually begin to seem true," I mutter, staring out the window absently.

Stop being so rude to your mother, the voice grunts like a wisp of air flowing into the car through the slit in Father's window.

She deserves it, she treats me like I'm mental.

You are.

Shut up.

Mother sighs the 'I don't know what to do with you' sigh that has been sounding literally non-stop these past few weeks.

"Well, remember we'll be missing you, and although they won't let you call, we'll be thinking about you, right John?" she says, eyeing Father's stoic expression.

He grunts an unintelligible reply.

I scoff and turn away, turning the sound up on my earphones and shaking my head in disbelief.

"And if you get homesick, just tell one of the staff, I'm sure they'll be willing to help," Mother says, shifting in her seat to smile at me.

I run a hand through my deep brown hair and sigh, pressing my lips together. "To be homesick, I need to miss home. And I don't miss home. I don't think I will."

She frowns, her thin eyebrows dipping into her olive skin, which contrasts to my porcelain skin that originated from my dad. "Whatever do you mean by that? You have friends and family and a life there, of course you'll miss home."

I roll my eyes a fraction, and turn away. "My friends haven't spoken to me since the incident, in fact, they're the ones telling everyone I have schizophrenia. And my family? None of my family can bare to even look to me, right John?" I say harshly, avoiding her sorrowful expression.

Father ignores me, concentrating on the road, but the quick flicker of his eyes shows that he heard.

Good.

Ha.

Before Mother can respond, Father grunts, "We're here."

I look ahead through the windshield to see a...

Castle?

At the end of a long gravel drive is an extremely large building with many different sized parts making it up. Some sections have a minimum of two floors, and there are also towers that must be about four of five floors into the blue sky. It is surrounded by masses of trees, and I can see flowers lining the brick walls under the windows. It has a pointed roof, and the huge door sits right in the middle of the central section, taking authority of the entire building.

It's not what I was expecting at all. I pictured barred windows and metal detectors at the door, maybe a prison van parked outside or students running loose while stabbing each other with pocket knives.

"I didn't know you were taking me to Hogwarts, thanks John," I say. He rolls his eyes and stops the car outside the front door.

The three of us climb out, a light breeze filling the autumnal air and lifting my dark wavy hair. I stare up at the building, messing with the strap of my rucksack while my parents retrieve my suitcase from the trunk.

Just don't set this one on fire, the voice says.

I notice a tabby cat slowly making its way from the side of the building, tail high in the air, it's big green eyes watching me intently. I stare back with my own big green eyes.

As Father slams the trunk shut, a woman emerges from the front door, hands cradled together. The cat inches its watchful eyes to her instead, the elegant sway of her hips interesting it more than the awkward new girl. She makes her way down the steps that lead from the door and stands in front of us, her black dress flowing to her feet. Her hair is pitch black, her skin contrastingly pale, and her eyes a wild blue. But her composure makes her seem calmer than her eyes would initially indicate.

"Welcome to Redwood Academy, you must be Olivia," she says in a soft voice.

I nod dryly, my parents standing beside me. "What's it's name?" I ask, gesturing to the cat, who is sat politely beside her.

"Whiskers."

"That's awfully typical."

She shrugs. "Blame Mr Jefferson, it's his cat."

"I don't know who that is."

"The groundskeeper."

"Mr Jefferson needs to rename his cat."

Before she can respond, Mother grins widely at the women and chirps, "You must be Headmistress Donovan. It's great to finally meet you."

Headmistress Donovan's eyes brush past my parents and fall on me again, and when she speaks, her gaze doesn't inch from mine, "You can call me Rosa. Redwood Academy welcomes you. Say goodbye to your parents and follow me to your room." There's something mechanical about the way she's speaking, something that isn't quite natural.

The cat disappears around the side of the building again.

"Bye Mum," I say without looking at them, grab my suitcase and begin to follow Rosa up the steps.

Mother grabs my arm before I can get very far, and spins me around gently. I sigh and eye her agitatedly, eager to sit in my room and hope this whole thing is just one big nightmare. Or that I'm dead. Anything to avoid coming to terms with the fact that this is my life now.

She scoops me into a bone-crushing hug, my arms hang limply at my sides, and I'm not quite sure what to make of myself. The hug doesn't mean anything. It's just my mother's attempt to bring the old me back, the girl who got top grades, the captain of the volleyball team, the popular girl, the girl I was before the accident, the girl who didn't have these stupid voices in her head.

I worm my way out of her arms and take hold of my suitcase. Father is already in the car, eager to leave.

Good riddance, the voice says.

Too right.

Without giving them another glance, I follow Rosa into the building.

Just me, Rosa, and the voices.

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