I typed out Charlotte's accent. I don't care if it offends anyone that's just how I write it ok.
This was just a little thing I did for fun. It goes with a big story I'm working on, but it's just... for fun...
I swallow thickly and look down at the rushing water below. My palms are sweaty and my toes curl around the stinging hot edge of the bridge. The sun is beating down on my back and I feel like my scars are burning. They itch so bad that I just need to tear my skin off, but I'm too terrified to move.
"Are you sure you want to jump first?" I hear Růžena ask gently behind me. I can't answer even if I wanted to; my throat is too dry.
"I am villink to go first if you are to be changink your mind, Casey!" Charlotte sings. "Or perhaps little Chmury vould like to?" I hear Chmury squeak and say something nervously and indistinct Charlotte giggles and says something in German. Verona tries to stifle a laugh.
I look down again.
For once, I can't jump. I've wanted to jump my whole life and now that I finally have the chance, I can't.
"Jump or I'll push you," Bridgette snorts.
"C'mon now, ladies," Alex says in an unnecessarily suave voice. I almost fall when he touches my shoulders. He rubs them gently to try and comfort me. It definitely doesn't work. (It totally works but I'm still too terrified to jump.) "He's gonna do it." Charlotte whispers in German and Verona snickers under her breath again. Despite feeling utterly patronized by the Deutsch Twins, I still can't move. "C'mon, darlin'," Alex whispers. "Show 'em what your made of."
"Alex!" Charlotte chirps. "I am havink an idea!" She pulls Alex away and I can hear her vhisperink—err… whispering.
I am suddenly twice as nervous. Charlotte's ideas never seem to end well.
"Casey!" she calls and I almost fall again. "Alex and I are comink vit' you!" I would protest for sure if I could move. The last thing I want is to have a Southern gentleman with a moderate God complex and a schizophrenic Swiss girl pull me off a bridge.
Like, seriously. Anyone but Charlotte, please.
There's a distinct difference between Charlotte and the rest of us. Most of us are just sad, spiteful, and self-hating by no fault of our own. Some of us are mentally incapable of distinguishing right from wrong. Some of us hear voices. Some of us think we're God.
But I think Charlotte is the only one that's honestly and trulyinsane.
I mean, it's pretty obvious just looking at her. No one is that fucking happy all the time. And disturbing as her hyper-cheerful attitude is, it's a lot better than seeing her when she's… well… there's two parts to manic depression, which was her initial diagnosis. She'd almost always be in mania, which is unusual. They realized something was wrong when the depression part never hit.
When people think of depression, they think of… well, people like me: hopeless, cynical, self-loathing, I-want-to-die people. When Charlotte's 'depression' hit, it was clear they were wrong.
I've never seen something so terrifying.
She fell to her knees and screamed the most horrifying, bone chilling, bloodcurdling scream I've ever heard. She pounded her fists on her head and clawed at her scalp and tugged at her hair and just kept screaming. Even though at the time we were supposed to be 'enemies', I couldn't take any pleasure in seeing her suffer—not like that. When the tears came rolling down her cheeks I couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle seeing chipper, sweet, quirky Charlotte cry. I started to cry, too.
As Alex tried in vain to comfort her and Odette and I stood awkwardly by, Verona came running in so fast I barely saw her. Right away, she took a tight hold on Charlotte's wrists, pulling them away from her head and started speaking in frantic but quiet German. I think Charlotte was responding, too, but she mostly sounded like she was choking to my ears.
Miss Arden came after a minute or two.
A week or so later, it was diagnosed that Charlotte's not manic.
Alex takes one of my hands and Charlotte takes the other. I'm suddenly wishing Odette was here and it hurts my heart. I wish she could jump with us. I wouldn't even hesitate is she was here.
But she's not here.
My last jump was out of a three story window about seven years ago—one of my several suicide attempts. This sensation is nothing like that one. I have security. I know they won't let go. For once, I'm not falling alone.
Then the water hits like concrete.
"Fuck!" I hiss upon surfacing. "That fucking hurt!"
"Aww!" Charlotte coos. "Look who is not nervous anymore!" She throws her arms around me and tried to pull me under, but I'm not as small as I was in the institute. Alex laughs and I swipe my hair out of my face to glare at him (with Charlotte still making a valiant effort to drown me). I've somehow managed to not lose my glasses, but they're dripping wet and Alex looks all warped and fat so I end up laughing and Charlotte takes me down. When we surface again, all three of us are laughing like the insane people we are.