AN: I wrote a quote that I am very proud of; A writer is a person who converts magic into words. How is it?

Warning: Self harm.

Let the chapter begin!

What's worse? Dying when you want to live or living when you want to die?

Alone.

Alice was alone, lying on the bed, gazing at the ceiling trembling ever so slightly.

When will she come back? Will she come back? Alice hoped not, because whenever she came, it was always painful and then everything would go dark as people started shouting.

Alice's trembling increased. When will she come? She knew that the woman with curly black hair would come, she always did.

Alice looked to her right; a bedside table with a glass of water, on her left was a cream coloured wall with a barred window.

She fisted her hands on the bed covers and squeezed her eyes shut.

She will come….

Her breathing hitched and hysteria started bubbling up inside her. The glass of water beside her exploded, spraying her with cold water and she snapped, screaming at the top of her lungs.

All the stress that had been building up from the last few hours came pouring out with her scream. She barely heard the door open or the people who quickly fixed the window, the glass and healed her hand where the slivers of glass had embedded themselves, while some other people started trying to calm her down.

Alice heard the shouting begin over her screaming and knew that her world was going to go dark again. This made her scream all the louder.

Darkness.

When she woke again, it was dark outside. She blinked owlishly a few times before sitting upright. She raised her right hand before her, it was shaking. She tilted her head to the side, curious. She clenched her hands, trying to still the tremors but only succeeded in making her whole arm shake; she let it drop as a defeated cause.

Looking around, Alice realised that she was in the same room with the barred window. She frowned, feeling as if she had forgotten something important.

Then suddenly she felt the absurd desire to giggle. She didn't have any reason not to, so she giggled. The sound resounded across the room, which sent her into a mad fit of laughter.

Had she gone mad? Nah, of course she hadn't gone mad.

She was thirsty, she wanted water. Looking around she saw the glass but it was empty. Tears welled up in her eyes. She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, rocking back and forth.

Suddenly, she stilled, and remembered. The woman. What if she came again? What is she said those words again? Those dreadful curse words? Or was it just one word?

An involuntary shiver went up her spine before she started sobbing hysterically in fear, tearing at her hairs.

She tried patting her own arm, trying to provide comfort to herself, while still rocking back and forth.

Slowly, her sobs subsided. She realised that she was alone. She had known it earlier but hadn't realised it.

She was terrified. What if the Black Woman, as she called her, came again?

No, she couldn't, she wouldn't, she won't, she shan't. Alice kept chanting this in her head.

She was staring at the lone bright star through the window. Will she really come? She was alone; no one will shout and send her to darkness this time if she came now. Her stomach started twisting itself into knots at the thought of what would happen if she were to come here now.

She gripped at her forearms tightly, drawing blood. Somehow this pain was good. She could control this. She could stop and start it whenever she wanted unlike with that woman who never stopped even when Alice screamed, and that pain was always a hundred times worse.

Alice started whimpering in fear, stress and trepidation as she dug harder at her arms. When the pain grew too much, she loosened her grip. There was only a light sting left from the scratch marks.

Her eyes still hadn't left that lone star that stood away from the others, alone, just like her.

Her eyes never left that lone star as she started rocking again.

She watched the star waiting for her to come, but she never did, though morning came.

Just as the first ray of dawn hid that lone star in its light, Alice fell into a restless sleep, plagued by the demon that was her mind.

Into the mind, dark and deep

I offer you, eternal sleep.

AN: I siriusly didn't expect to ever post this chapter. I was just reading the book, Veronika Decided to Die by Paulo Coelho when this idea struck me.

I just couldn't not delve into the beautifully terrible depths of the insane mind.

This is one of my favourite stories and I just can't leave it alone. I will end each chapter as if I were ending the story so that you won't be obliged to wait for updates but I might keep posting. This story will never end.

Stories never end, even if books like to pretend they do. – Mo, Inkheart.

PS: I have just updated my profile bio, you should check it out, it has some promised laughs, you'll enjoy it!

I need a Beat, anyone interested?

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