Summary: A girl believes she has murdered her best friend, but no one else believes her.

A/N: Holy crap, close to five months since I last updated. No wonder I don't get any reviews anymore. At school, we have freewrite sometimes, so all this is stuff I wrote during that time. I wasn't able to take the journal home until now...sorry. I've just been uninspired. I apologize for the wait. Let's see, the novel contest is quickly approaching, so, if all goes well (cross your fingers) this might be the last update I do here! Still, please review.

P.S.--The part that bolded and italicized is, once again, a conversation that occurs. Sarah doesn't hear it, or anything, it is simply a conversation that the readers get to know about. Sorry for any confusion.

P.P.S.--Thanks to my BFFLs for reviewing. I love you, even if you guys are obsessed with Orli. Also, thanks to Alley Rhodes, as always. :)

Disclaimer: The stuff written here is MINE. Do not steal and do not copy. I worked hard on this. The characters are not based on anything and have nothing to do with anyone in real life.

"She doesn't seem to be making any progress."

"That's because she isn't."

"Mark, that's not true. The process is just…slow going."

"We don't have time for 'slow-going'."

"With all do respect, Mr. Baunaham, this girl isn't the usual patient."

"Usual or not, Doctor Paverson, after five months some progress should have been made."

"My thoughts exactly, Mr. Baunaham."

"I just…need more time."

"Rachel, you have had time, plenty of it. You haven't seemed to make good use of your time. The girl is still not talking."

"Mr. Baunaham, please—"

"What do you suggest we do, Mr. Baunaham?"

"A new doctor must be in order. Let's see if perhaps a change in scenery will get her to open up.'

"But, but, Mr. Baunaham! You can't do that! I was guaranteed Sarah! I'm her doctor!"

"Not any more."

"Mark, please. Do something."

"Hush, Rachel. You seem to have forgotten your place. Thank you for your time, Mr. Baunaham."

"And my suggestion?"

"I will get right on it. Sarah will have a new doctor by morning."

I am escorted to my session by Ruth, a young nurse. Ruth is always cheerful and smiling, unlike Pam or Doreen, the other nurses on this ward.

"I heard they got a surprise for you, missy," Ruth says casually as we walk through the deserted halls.

A surprise? Surprises are never good around here.

"Yes ma'am, a great big surprise," she continues. "Now, I know it's not my place to judge you or this administration," she say, suddenly lowering her voice, "but I think this is a huge mistake."

We arrive at Dr. Paverson's door, and I stop as usual. Ruth just keeps on walking and talking. She is half way down the hall before she realizes I am not following her.

"Come here, girl," she calls down the hall. "You don't stop walking unless I stop walking. Well come on, I didn't stop walking yet."

Reluctantly, I follow her, giving one last glace to Dr. Paverson's door. I swear I heard talking.

"I know what you you're thinking, honey, but don't get all uptight just yet. You haven't even met him yet."

Him? There is no way I can be comfortable with a guy doctor.

"I heard he was real nice and friendly. A little strict, but the other patients around here seem to love him." Ruth's voice drones on as I recede into my own thoughts.

The other patients around here love him. That means that this guy is a special doctor, one who only works with the craziest people. Like me.

"Ah yes, here we are." I read the letters. Dr. Meechan. Ruth knocks on the door and a soft "Come in." is the response.

"Go on, girl. He won't bite."

Slowly, I grasp the doorknob and push. It swings open easily and a bear of a man visualizes before me. Automatically, I don't like him. His face is stern and lined, as if he worries too much. Paverson had wrinkles, but they were only visible if she frowned. Although, she had frowned at me a lot…

"Sarah! Welcome," he booms. I decide it is a good thing I don't talk. If I did, my private thoughts would be broadcasted to the whole world.

"Please, take a seat." Dr. Meechan's office is stark white, just like the rest of the crazy ward. Paverson's office had been the one relief from the lack of color. They seriously need to get a new designer.

Ruth closes the door on her way out. The doctor turns away from the door, his smile gone and a hard look on his face.

"Now, Sarah," he says, situating himself behind his desk. "I know this change is very…sudden. I understand if it makes you upset. But I can't help you overcome those feelings unless you talk to me."

Suddenly, it all becomes clear. The real reason they moved me here. It wasn't because of time, or for a doctor who could deal with my craziness better. It was because Dr. Paverson just wasn't cutting it.

My eyes are voice of all emotion, or so I hope. He stares into them, searching for a hint of life.

"You brought this upon yourself, you know," Dr. Meechan says at last. "One word and you will be escorted back down to Paverson's office."

One word runs through my min, but my brain stops it before it reaches my mouth. I have gotten so good at this that my mouth doesn't even move.

"Let me tell you how this will work." Meechan leans forward and the chair creaks. "I want answers. I'm not here to help you or make you feel better. You don't deserve my help. There are two reasons and two reasons only why I am doing this. First, the head honchos declared Dr. Paverson 'unfit' for this case. That left me to pick up the slack. Second, I want the glory. Can you imagine how good it will look for me if you start talking while in my care?" A greedy smile plays out on his face and I feel disgusted. Whether or not this is true, I don't know. But I do know that this is a part of the plan.

"So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. Easiest way is for you to just open your trap and stark talking. Hardest way is for you to remain silent. You stay quiet and I have to resort to other measures."

This guy should have been cast in a cop show. His lines are right on par, no scripts would be necessary.

"Hard way, huh?" Dr. Meechan says helpfully as he leans back in his chair. Casually, he walks two fingers across the desk to the folder sitting there. One finger lifts the edge up and lays the folder flat, its contents shown.

"Honey, I'm home!"

Mr. Paverson didn't hear any response.

"Rachel?" He shook off his coat and walked into the kitchen. His wife was sitting at the island, a glass of wine in her hand. Rachel hardly ever drank before dinner.

"What's wrong?" Dan Paverson asked, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders.

"They took her," Rachel replied, her voice like ice.


"The institution. Mark, Mr. Baunaham. They all took Sarah." Tears started to form in her eyes.

"What do you mean, they took her?" Dan's voice was quiet and cautious.

"She's not my patient anymore. They turned her over to Dr. Meechan."

"Oh, honey," Dan comforted. "I'm so sorry. I know how much she means to you." Sara had been the only thing she had talked about for weeks.

"They're going to destroy her," Rachel stated. "They don't understand how she works, how she thinks. Why she is the way she is."

"You don't know that either," her husband said gently.

"I know more than he does!" she exploded. What had been sorrow moments before was now replaced with fury. "Dr. Meechan won't try to help her. He's only doing this to get the fame and a big pay raise."

"Not necessarily," Dan consoled.

"Yes, Dan, yes! Last time his high risk patient nearly died when he tried to kill himself. The patient wasn't depressed or suicidal before Meechan was his doctor." Rachel could barely see past the anger that was forming.

"You know what the worst part is?" she asked. "There's nothing I can do about it."

Once again, I find myself in my white walled hell. I passed Jessica on the way back from my first meeting with the monster. Her friend, Maggie, pointed at me and whispered something her ear. Jessica smacked down the finger and stomped towards me, sweeping me in a hug.

I wonder what she was doing in this part of the hospital.

Studying loses its appeal after the first hazy problem. If Alice is older than Jan, and Jan is younger than Michael, and Michael can build a table for soup in three hours and the soup can be eaten in five minutes by Jan, how long will it take Alice to cook macaroni and cheese?

The answer? Exactly two minutes and thirty seconds. Because that is what it says on the box.