~*~There are some sounds you learn to get used to. Some sounds that you familiarise yourself with that you forget they are even there. Some sounds, like for example: the ticking of a clock. You know it’s there and you can see it but unless you be very, very silent and concentrate it, you can’t hear it.~*~

~*~Very interesting…isn’t it~*~

~*~Monday 7th April 2003, 2:03pm…but what exactly do numbers really mean?~*~

~*~A 3 star hotel room located somewhere in the middle of nowhere. 4 white walls border it. White not with purity but rather with blankness and void. If you look closely the white is mixed with a pallet of browns, yellows and other colours of impurity. It kind of makes you think what happenings could of went on previously to cause these stains and what kind of sanitary staff there have for the stains to be preserved. The curtains and short pile carpet are equally matched to the walls but they are beige instead of white.

~*~This room is simple and minimalist, which makes it looks miles bigger than it is. And it is roughly 2.5m by 3m but then again what really are numbers?~*~

~*~All that is in this dingy hotel room is a broken TV, set of draws and a bed. There is a big window at the read. A stream of spring sunlight bursts through the creak in the curtain onto the bed. The light ends and soaks the face of Mya. She lays sprawled out, lifeless on the dirty linen. Her body slightly twitches in the heat. She only wears her black lacy underwear and her skin-deep ashes, cuts and bruises. Strands of her red hair are bonded together with the glue of sweat, blood and tears. It sticks in clumps to her face along with her day old eye make up. Her face is still angelic, still beautiful and mysterious but her heart isn’t anymore. A silence cry escapes her lips and a tear runs down her stained cheeks.

Mya
Nevermore

~*~Her voice is a mere quiver in tainted angst~*~

~*~Her right hand hangs off the bed and faintly comes into contact with the floor. In her clutches she holds a large bottle of gin. Through the light it is ¾ empty and just a brown puddle swirling around with her movements. She lifts it up so she holds it above her and she looks at it, gazes even. Her sight seems to be hypnotised on the bottle~*~

Mya
What is this softhearted nectar I hold before me?
I dare not touch it
I dare to resist myself
from having it pass through my lips.

~*~She lets out a long sigh before opening her mouth. Her wrist flicks and the liquor spills from the bottle all over her face. She takes in another sigh as she imbibes the vast majority while the rest trickles down her face. She flings the now empty bottle across the room where it makes contact to the walls and smashes into a million pieces. She tastes the lingering taste from her fingers.~*~

Mya
How can something so appeasing and attracting
be so bittersweet.
why must I be a fool?
a stupid fool to this hurt addiction!

‘It’s because your weak. You’re a weak being, your pathetic!’

~*~She jumps at this voice before being drowned in a vat of fear. She reaches over sluggishly and grabs a hand mirror from the splintered chest of drawers. She looks at her own reflection, a perfect mirror image to her feeble-self. She glances again as her mirror image smirks. She suddenly jumps and stats shaking violently~*~

Mya
No this can’t be happening! I’m cured! DR Pineman said you’d go away! Why did she lie to me!

‘Ah Mya! Tut, tut tut. Must you learn that there is no way your going to get rid of us? No therapy, no drugs, no convincing can get rid of us. Nothing! You must just accept it and accept that we’re going to be playing with your head forever and ever. We can just be one big freakin family!’

Mya
Oh no! Leave me alone.

~*~She too hurls the mirror across the room in rage and joins the bottle in a vicious shattered form~*~

‘Oh no Mya. Oppsie! I guess that’s another seven years bad luck.’

~*~She starts rocking backwards and forwards in a foetal position. The flat palms of her hands, covering her ears and tears streaming down her face~*~

Mya
Leave me alone!

‘Oh you amuse me with your stupidity. Do you think breaking a mirror will stop us?’

‘Yeah we’re in your mind, not the mirror’

‘There is NOTHING you can do’

Mya
Go away! Oh please go away.

~*~Suddenly the door burst open with no effort at all and all goes quiet~*~

~*~She looks at the door, still shaking, still quivering. He closes the door behind him and looks at her. He goes by the name of Dave. An experienced wrestler, forced to retire due to a severe leg injury. He’s no older than Mya, hasn’t even reached his 30th birthday yet. It’s so cruel how fate can twist. Now he stands as Mya’s only friend, her support, her guardian angel, turning up uncalled for just when she needs him. He carries a brown paper bag, which he spills out onto the drawer. Inside are a little brown bottle of pills and a bottle of still water. He walks up to her and waves a hand over her face~*~

Dave
Hey Mya. I was in town so I thought I’d see you and bring your prescription to ya.

~*~She has no reaction to him and stares blankly ahead of her~*~

‘Oh Mya you should know by now that those drugs don’t make us go away. They only silence us for a few but then we’re back. You make think they’ve worked but we’ll still be here, you just won’t be able to hear us. That’s all they do’

~*~He pops the little white pills into her mouth and holds her nose as he pours the water down her throat. She coughs and sputters as she forces the pills down her throat. She wipes the water from her chin and looks up at Dave~*~

Mya
What are you doing here?

Dave
Haven’t you been listening?

Mya
No

Dave
I was in town and thought I’d bring you your prescription and see how you were doing. Not that good I see.

Mya
But you live in Essex, how did you know I was in New York. And why?

Dave
Oh I hear stuff you know.

Mya
You know I don’t need a babysitter. I can look after myself!

Dave
Yeah sure you do. If it weren’t for me you would have been dead. Just grow up and admit it. Your not totally dependant!

Mya
Get lost!

Dave
Damn Mya you’re a complete mess!

Mya
Humph! Well this is how I like to get prepared for my matches.

Dave
Ah sarcasm, you so funny. But I wouldn’t have found it funny if I can here too late and found you choking on your own vomit.

Mya
Can I ask you again, why are you here?

Dave
No one likes a smartass. Anyway lets change the subject.

Mya
I never wanted to talk anyway.

~*~He looks at Mya and sighs. His patience has been lost a long time ago. He pulls a chair up to her bed and takes a swig of water. He puts his head in is hands and opens his eyes wider as e begins to speak~*~

Dave
So who you facing?

Mya
Oh some guy, Vecna.

Dave
Oh Vecna, Vecna? I think I’ve heard of him.

Mya
Honestly Dave?

Dave
No but serious you’re going to lose. Look at you!

Mya
Look at you too!

Dave
No I’m not kidding. You’re all messed up mentally and physically. Are you drinking again.

Mya
Just because I had one bottle of gin in my lifetime doesn’t make me an alcholic. Anyway it’s just some guy.

Dave
Yeah seems scary.

Mya
Seems pretty pathetic. Just because he was in prison he thinks he’s some hard guy. Well I went to jail one and taking into custody loads of times. I don’t brag about it, I’m quite ashamed.

Dave
| You should be. You were put into solitary confinement.

Mya
Only for a couple months.

Dave
Oh ok, so do you want me to help clear up?

Mya
…

~*~She tunes out again, staring blankly ahead of her. He shakes his head as he stands up~*~

Dave
Mya!

Mya
No

Dave
Do you want to work out before your match?

Mya
No

Dave
Ok I’ll guess I’ll go then.

~*~He walks past the bed looking at her with pity before exiting through the door, slamming it behind him symbolising the end~*~