Forever

"Hey! Freak! How come you twitch so much?" Gabe taunted from the monkey bars, with Dylan snickering at his side.

"None of your business!" I shouted back, sitting by myself on the swing set.

"Is it 'cause you have no friends? Are you so lonely you get the jitters?" Dylan mocked, smiling evilly.

Then Twitch's comforting voice spoke, "You ignore them, ma chère, they will never understand."

As usual, I answered him through thought, "It's just that I don't want them to make fun of me."

"I know, Princess, I know, but you're strong. Don't let them get to you. They'll never have someone love them as much as I love you."

Dylan's yelling ruined the moment, "Hey! I'm talkin' to you!" I looked at their annoying faces, glaring.

Just then, my 5th grade teacher, Ms. Martin, blew the whistle, signalling the end of recess. As they passed, Gabe kicked wood chips at me, snarling. "Weirdo."

For the next few hours, I constantly got carrots and balled-up paper thrown at my head when Ms. Martin wasn't looking. I could feel Twitch growing angrier, but he was always that way. I'd been treated that way since the first week of school.

In fact, almost everyday was the same. It seemed as if the other students in my class had run out of new derogatory comments about me.

However, that particular day, things would turn out a little differently. During our English lesson, Diane, who sat behind me, raised her hand.

"Yes, Diane?"

"I'm having a hard time listening to you read when Marilyn is twitching so much and making all that noise right in front of me," she complained in all her lisping glory.

"Diane! That is not a nice thing to say! I have not heard a single sound from her," Ms. Martin closed the book quickly, "You tell Marilyn that you are sorry!"

"But Ms. Martin, I'm only telling the truth! She's- she's kicking me under the desk!" Diane cried.

I felt the fury rising up in me. Not my own, but Twitch's. "How dare she say something like that?" he hissed. "God, little liars like her annoy me so much." he then called Diane a name that I was shocked to ever hear come out of him.

"Twitch, please watch your language, you know I don't like swear words," I told him with a small voice.

As it turns out, my voice was not so small. I accidentally spoke to him out loud. Big mistake.

"Miss Marilyn, who are you speaking to, dear?" my teacher asked softly. I only stared at her, wide-eyed, noticing everyone's gazes set on me.

"Don't you tell her, Marie. Remember, they'll never understand. Never," Twitch ordered calmly.

"Marilyn, sweetheart, are you feeling all right? I asked you if it was true that you were kicking Diane," Ms. Martin watched me with concern, "Honey, you're going pale," I didn't respond, I could feel my chest compressing.

"Princess, she's right, are you okay?" Twitch gave me the sensation of his arms around my body to relax me.

I started to breathe heavily, my mind was going at a painful speed, sounds were amplified and my vision was dotted with black. Ms. Martin immediately came over to me and rubbed circles onto my back. What she did not know was that by trying to comfort me, she'd managed to push away the embrace of Twitch, making it feel ten times worse.

"What's happening?"

"What's wrong with her?"

"Calm down, class, she's just having an anxiety attack, please be quiet," Ms. Martin told them. I could hardly hear her voice at this point, I was so far gone. "Take a deep breath in, that's it, now breathe out slowly. You've got it. Keep doing that."

"She really is a freak!" Diane cried.

That didn't help at all. I lost my breathing pattern and my tremors got so bad I doubt I could pick up a pencil.

Ms. Martin scolded them as I cried to Twitch, "I can't...I can't, Twitch. What do I do?"

"Listen to your teacher, baby."

"It hurts, Twitchy!"

"I know, angel. I'll help you. Let me take it from here," With that, I lost all feeling in my body and watched as Twitch took over, experiencing every excruciating sensation of it.

But it was a bigger deal than it seemed. Twitch told me how bad his attacks used to be, and how they were one of the only things that he was afraid of, because they were not just anxiety, but visions and memories that he could not handle.

"No! Twitch!" I cried, but he ignored me.

I was then overwhelmed by horrifying images and sounds that I couldn't make sense of. I could see why he was afraid of them. He blocked me out eventually, but he was clearly still suffering. He could hide a lot from me, but I could feel the utter distraught he was in.

"Please, Twitch, I can handle it, don't do this to yourself," I pleaded.

He shook my head furiously, "No, no. I can do it," He stated firmly, determined.

Then I could no longer see, I could not longer hear, everything went dark. And I was scared. It was like as if someone flipped the light switch while I was still in the basement, by myself. I had a fear of the dark, and due to Twitch's constant presence, a fear of being alone. I screamed.



It'd been a long time since I'd dealt with this. Maybe that was why it was so bad. I was no longer in a fifth grade classroom. I actually had no idea where I was. I thought I could take the hit for her. She'd never had an anxiety attack before, and I have, so why couldn't I do it? Easy, because I wasn't having an anxiety attack. This was much worse. I felt as if my skin, or Marie's skin, rather, was on fire. And I knew why, and if I dared to forget, I sure as hell would be reminded by the visions.

My father, his cold, dark eyes, black as night.

Solitary.

I did nothing wrong! It was his fault! I didn't do it!

Pain, blood.

Torture.

The sickening voice of my father, "You deserve every second of this. And you always will."

I remembered crying at his words. I wanted to cry then, too.

Kill me, kill me. No more, I've had enough. Haven't I learned my lesson, father?

I was startled when he actually responded, it was not a memory. "No. You shed her blood; you murdered her. You will never be free. I want you writhe and suffer until I decide to kill you off myself, if I do at all. You might as well languish for eternity for all I care of your pain."

You care enough to continue it. I want to die, father. I've done this for too long.

"I disagree, son. And that's what really counts, isn't it?"

Please...Please...

I suddenly felt the sensation of his hand grabbing my face, his disgusting claws digging into my cheeks, drawing blood.

"You weak, useless boy. No child of mine grovels for mercy. I might as well end your pathetic existence. But why waste my time? I like watching your agony, it's refreshing," I heard the grin in his deep, growling voice.

Then came a disturbing snap, a sharp affliction and darkness.

"Twitchy?" the soft, sweet, bell-like voice of a child squeaked, and I smiled to myself. I had protected her, that's all I cared about. She was all that mattered.