My eyes flutter open, the side of my face burning as if I just dragged it along the carpeted floor. My cheek hurts, and I raise my hand to inspect it.

“Ouch.” I wince. I must have taken a hard fall. It’s not the worst of my falls, though. I came to once on the stairs at the club and had to get stitches at the base of my head.

Groaning, I pull myself up off the floor and look around the room.

I’m in the dorm room I rented out when I came to campus. Why am I cold and damp? Looking down I find myself wearing a stupid fucking dress. Farrah…

Oh no, Farrah was in the light.

“No,” I whisper to myself. My fingers rubbing along the material of the dress. I try to remember the last thing I did, but it’s all black. I can’t remember anything before getting set up in my room. Biting my lip, I notice my lip ring missing. Cursing under my breath, I stagger to the mirror on the wall, curious what else Farrah did to my appearance.

I gasp in horror, clutching my mouth.

My hair, it’s colored brown and pink. My blonde hair, it’s gone. My piercings are gone too. I look… different.

“Noooo!” I scream angrily, clearing everything off the sink in a fit of fury. Pretty makeup and girly shit go flying across the room. “YOU FUCKING BITCH, FARRAH!” I shout to no one but myself. Farrah can’t hear me, so my yelling at her is pointless.

“I’m trying to study!” muffled yelling from the room next to mine, a fist pounding on the wall to follow.

“Shut the fuck up,” I scream at the girl next door. Grabbing a blow dryer off the sink I throw it at the wall, and the pounding stops.

“You fuck everything up, you ruin everything,” I cry softly as I fall to the floor on my hands and knees. Adrenaline pulses through me so hard I feel high. I’m so angry and so hurt. This was my only chance at finding myself, and my illness had to show its ugly head and fuck everything up.

Standing on wobbly legs, I clutch the cold sink and close my eyes. I try to breathe, try to calm myself, but it’s no use. She went too far this time. Farrah, went too far this time.

A laptop suddenly illuminates from my bed, the professor’s picture expanded. Where did that laptop come from? How could Farrah afford it? I slide my finger along the pad bringing up the bottom toolbar. September 1^st. My head falls with despair. Days of my life are gone. Drifted in the black abyss that I’ll never get back. I got here four fucking days ago. Farrah came to the light right after check-in and has been running around the campus living my life.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I whisper under my breath. Hot tears stream down my cheeks as I close my eyes. I try to bring forward some memory to indicate if Farrah has interacted with the professor, but I can’t remember a thing. I never can. It’s like a wall, a thick brick wall I can’t climb over, under, or through. I’m left in the darkness where the other side holds the light.

Wiping the tears from my face, I grab the computer and face it toward me.

Clicking the laptop’s history, there’s nothing but information on the professor. She’s been stalking him.

“Goddamn it,” I growl. She has been in contact with him. My heart strikes in my chest with my next thought. I pray she didn’t sleep with him. I’ve only slept with Benji, and the memory of our first time is one I think about every night before going to bed. Farrah sleeping with someone else makes me feel… violated. She’s a slut and wants someone to love her so badly… she’ll destroy me if it means she gets her happily ever after.

She ruins everything.

My fingers still on the keyboard the skull ring that was Benji’s shines on my thumb. Where is he? Maybe I should call him. With Farrah coming out, everything has changed.

I climb over to my leather bag tucked away in the corner and dump the contents. The orange pill bottles I’m looking for don’t fall out of the bag. Gasping for air, I shove my hand in the bag hoping they got stuck or something, but it’s empty. I forgot them.

Without me taking them for days, Farrah will be back.

My therapist says Farrah and I should work together, but that will never happen. I take the meds, she doesn’t. She wants to live her own life, and I want my own.

One time I came to in the middle of a storm stranded on a beach in Texas. I had no recollection of how I got there, all I had on was a stupid sundress surrounded by a bunch of spring breakers thinking it was cool to party in the midst of a hurricane. I had no personal items on me and had to borrow a cell phone from some drunk chick by a campfire to get ahold of Benji.

He took care of everything and got me back home safely. But still, it makes me wonder with every living second, whenever I blink or simply just breathe… Where will I be next? What will I do? What would it be that led me there?

Falling to my ass, my knees to my chest, my eyes fall on a picture of me and Benji that fell from my bag. It’s one of my favorites.

It’s from one of the club parties. I’m wearing his leather cut because I was cold, my cut-off shorts showing my tan tattooed legs. I have a beer in my hand and a smile on my face as Benji surprisingly pulled me into a hug from behind. He’s my best friend and I miss him so much.

Sobbing, I grab it and clutch it to my chest.

I miss him, more than I thought I ever would, right now.

He’d know what to do if he were here. He knows how to handle Farrah, make her sink within.

Leaning my head against the wall, I shake my head. Coming here was stupid, I knew there was a possibility Farrah would come forth.

Sliding to the floor, I lay my head on the carpet and close my eyes. I try to breathe through my pain, my anger, and torment. How I long to be normal, to be just… me.

“Stay still,” echoes through my head and a small smile slips past my agony.

The few words that Benji would whisper to me after an episode.

“Why do you keep saying that?” I ask, clawing at him as if I could climb inside of him and wear him as protection. A cloak of some kind to protect myself from myself. “Like staying still will make everything better!” I sob.

“Can you feel my heart beat against your back?” he asks softly. I nod, I can feel it. It’s pounding hard, and steady. “Can you hear only my voice?” I look up at him, his chin to my forehead. His voice rough with a growl, but soft like silk the way it wrapped around me and grounded me. Kept me safe.

“The chaos and the voices can’t be heard if you stay still and let me have you,” he insists. The stubble of his chin scratching along my forehead.

“Stay still,” I whisper, trying to pretend that Benji is here with me now. His voice, his hard heartbeat against my back. His arms wrapped around me, protecting me. “Stay still…”

Reaching the campus, I park right in front of the main building. I am not fucking with a parking garage and stupid ass college kids dinging my doors with their beat-up shit. The smell of rain hangs in the air, and kids amongst all ages walk around oblivious to who the fuck just showed up on their front doorstep and who they’ve been living amongst for days. The fucking Shadow Keepers Enforcer, and their princess.

Sliding my hands through my dark hair, I pull my cut tighter around my shoulders and start toward the main office.

Girls flash me a flirtatious smile, and boys look at me as if I’m lost. It’s the leather cut, the large rings on my fingers, and the bold tattoos on my skin that grabs everyone’s respect.

I sneer. Fucking college. Out of all the places I’ve gone to get Harley, this has to be the worst.

Hipsters and spoiled ass brats get on my nerves more than anything.