All you have to do is shout it out.

Roxanne had been sent home, due to the fact her now was still broken, while everyone else went back to their normal lives. Or what was left of them now. Though, Dulcie really didn’t have a normal life to begin with, seeing as how her husband was aware of everything. She was currently laying down in her living room, ice pack pressed numbly against her nose. It was healing; slowly though. The fact that her head seemed to be in a constant migraine was tiring too. Groaning she removed the pack to place tender fingers on the nose. For her luck, the numbness repelled the pain that would have probably erupted in her nose. “Why is this happening to me?”

With the closing of her eyes; she found herself oblivious to the whispering in her ears. Roxanne…..Roxanne open your eyes… her eyebrows furrowed and she slowly opened them. There was nothing. Just the high raise of her ceiling. With a sigh and wince of her face, she closed them again, settling deeper into the cushion of her chair. Open your eyes to me…

This time she jolted up, ice in her hand; melting from the heat bouncing off her hand. “Who’s there?” no answer met her. Instead of standing and going to investigate like she should have, she laid back down.

Open up to me, let me in your head… She didn’t move, didn’t say anything. Just waited for a response. Let me see into your mind...Your mind of sickness.

She shot from her position and to her feet, eyes wide and looking for the cause of the voice. “Show yourself!” she called out, trying her best to avoid having anything involved her nose. The voice went away, and she pinned her fingers at the bridge of her nose. “I’m going crazy.”

She migrated into her bathroom, peering at herself in the bathroom mirror. Her hair was unwashed, pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her body had accumulated bruises; several decking her face. Over her eye, under her lip, a large welt on the broad of her forehead. And of course, the famous broken nose that had swelled up like a balloon due to the icing and tenderness. Leaning over the sink to peer at it, she found the mirror fogging up.

Roxanne stood straight, looking out to the hallway to see if the cause was out there. When she turned back to look at herself again, the fog was gone. She blinked, running a finger over the mirror. It was completely dry; moisture free. “What the hell….” She whispered, looking around.

Why are you resisting? it was a soft purring in her ear. It’s futile.

It had to have been James. It was the only logical explanation. He was the one connected to her schizophrenia. But the voice in her head; didn’t sound like his. Moving into her bedroom, she sat on her bed; head in hands. She was going crazy. Insane, possibly. Maybe both. She didn’t want to think about it anymore, and decided sleep might have been her only option. Sleep may not have been the best option, but she couldn’t think straight. Her emotions were sky rocketing all over the palce and she just needed serenity and not to think.

Not to contemplate what was wrong with her. Why she was hearing voices. Why she was haunted by her dead boyfriend. Why she had lost Jakob. Why she controlled the power of fire. Why she even existd at all.