White

Prologue

(A/N) Dear God, no not another story! Yes, yet another one. This one will be one of rare dark stories that I do write. I'm going for psychological this time. I hope you all enjoy it. Thank you.)

Summary: White was the color Kurosaki Ichigo hated the most. White was the monster that killed his mother. White was what the men wore that took him away. White is the color of his jacket. White are the walls of his prison. White was what the doctors wore. Since age 9 all Ichigo knew was a white hell known as a mental institution. He was declared insane after his mother death. He insisted that a large white monster killed his mother and that other people were talking to him that no one else could see.

Now age 23 Ichigo is still one of the hardest cases at Karakura Mental Hospital. Most of the staff are scared of him. Mainly because he knows things, things that he shouldn't know. But is Ichigo really as crazy as he seems? After a series of escalating events the hospital becomes a paranormal hot spot. Can Ichigo finally prove he's not crazy in order to save and staff?

SOUNDS/sounds

Thoughts

Disembodied Voices

(Ichigo's POV)

How I detest the color white. Everywhere I look I see some variation of that horrid color. Or lack of color I should say. I learned quickly that white can be just as empty as black. I even loath the white in people's eyes as they stare at me. I'm always being watched here, whether it be through human eyes or the electronic ones of the cameras. Even they are white to blend into the void better.

I learned to hate the color white when I was going home with my mother that one wet evening. I was nine when it happened and it happened so fast. We were walking near the river that evening, it was swollen and the current was moving fast. I saw what I thought was a person on the bank about to jump. I slid down the muddy embankment to stop the girl and my mother ran after to stop me. I heard her scream and then there was nothing. When I came to I felt a weight on me. It was my mother. She was soaked in blood. I was disoriented. The river was inching closer to us as the rain fell harder for the dark sky.

I could barely see but despite the heavy rain I could still make out a large form not far from me. It was ugly and it was facing me. Its face was a large white toothy mask. It looked like it was eating something. I couldn't make out what too well through the torrential rain. But for a brief moment it seemed as though the rain had let up just enough to let me see. It was my mother. But how when my own mother was lying on top of me?

It was right after that I heard the sirens and the yelling of people from the top of the embankment. The creature continued to eat my "mother" as people came down to check on us. My mother's body was pulled from off my own and I was carried up the hill and to a waiting ambulance. But all the while that thing just sat there and watched everything unfold as though he was watching TV.

My mother was dead and I was kept in the hospital overnight. While I was there I thought about everything that had happened and what I had seen. I came to the conclusion that it was a monster that killed my mother and ate her soul. I remember telling the nurses about it. They called in a shrink for me to talk to. The doctor concluded that it was just my 9 year old brain trying to rationalize everything that had happened and that with a little therapy everything would be better.

So my father took me to my therapy sessions as ordered. They would come with up explanations to what I would tell them. They said that I perceived the murderer as a monster and that maybe he wore a white mask as he killed my mother but I knew better. A couple months later I began to see other things that no one else could see. I saw people that were transparent and looked as though they were hurt but they didn't seem to be in any pain. They would tell me things I shouldn't know. That's what really got me into trouble. I should have kept my mouth shut.

At school I started to be called a freak as I would talk to people who weren't there. There was a teacher that died about 3 months before from a car accident just outside the school grounds. I would talk to her regularly; however, my classmates and the teachers were really disturbed by it. One teacher even came up to me to ask me who I was talking to. I told him it was Takashi-sensei. He didn't believe me of course. He brushed me off and scolded me a little for making up things. But I wasn't. To prove it I told him that he and Takashi-sensei had been secretly dating for the last 3 years.

I remember that the colored drained out his face. He tried to sound like he didn't know what I was talking about. I then made the mistake of pointing out that he carries the engagement ring he was going to give her on a necklace up under his shirt. Ultimately that did me in. I was 9 and didn't know to keep my mouth shut. It was a stupid mistake and I didn't know any better.

The school was on edge with me for a while but after talking about Takashi-sensei it finally caused them some real alarm. I remember that I was sitting in class and the principal called me out of class. I went to his office unaware of what was going to happen. I walked into the main office and the secretary seemed nervous. I didn't think much of it as she got up and opened the door to the principal's office. I walked in and went to sit down when I noticed that the school principal wasn't alone in the office. Three large men dressed in horrid white stood near me.

I remember asking what was going on. The bastard promptly told me that these 3 men were going to take me away from the school and that he has already notified my father. It took me only a second to realize what was going on. I went to run to the door but it was locked and was quickly captured. I began kicking and screaming as one of the men wrapped his large arms around me. They quickly got the stretcher and started to strap me in. I took the opportunity to actually bite one of them. That didn't go over well. I was threatened with a sedative if I didn't settle down.

I was then carted down the hall towards the main entrance. Students started to flood the halls to see what was going on. The teachers were trying to usher them back into their classrooms. I was then put into an ambulance and I was raced to Karakura Mental Hospital. Fear was all I could feel at the moment. I screamed and cried the whole way there. I was 9 and I was scared.

When I arrived I was in such a panic I don't remember much. I know I tried to get away. I remember hitting a couple of people and making it to the door. I was caught and I bit another person. That pretty much did me in. I was put in straight jacket and I was quickly given a small sedative to calm me down. I was deemed a hazard to myself and others.

Do to my "state" my family couldn't see me until the following day. They kept me in the off-white colored jacket as I was walked down to the visiting room. I was hoping to see my little sisters along with my father but all I saw was my father. He told me Karin and Yuzu were too young to be here to see me. I pleaded with him to let me go home but he couldn't do anything to help me even though he was a doctor himself. He worked on bodies not minds. I asked him how long would I be here. He didn't know and that scared me.

The doctor came in while my father I were talking. He directed us to his office. I did learned that this doctor and my father had a history. They had been college mates for a time. However, this doctor, Ishida Ryuken, had stayed in school longer to also practice psychiatric medicine not just physical medicine. My father had asked for him specifically to look over my case. It didn't take me long to begin to hate Ishida.

I didn't understand much of what they were talking about at the time. I do now of course now that I'm older and I've been through it. The meeting seemed to drag on for a while. I was getting antsy. An orderly took me out of the office so Ishida and my Father could talk in private. I waited back in visiting room with the orderly watching over me like a mad hawk. Probably because I bit him just the day before. I held nothing back when I chomped down on his hand. I knew I drew blood. In my opinion he deserved it.

Finally my father and Ishida returned. I was told I would be kept here for a good long while. I asked how long that would be. Four months and see how things went from there. I didn't want to be here for that long. I wanted to go home and play with my sisters and sleep in my own bed. I remember I started crying again and started to fight to get out the retched jacket. My father was ordered to leave. I went to chase after him but I was quickly picked up by the orderly and brought back to my stark white room to calm down. The room was void; off white walls, white bed linens, white tile floor, white lights, and white blinds. About the only things that weren't white were the bed frame and night stand. They were a pale oak wood. It wasn't white but it matched perfectly.

It wasn't long after that I began my testing and therapy with Ishida. I hated and still hate Ishida dearly. He was clever and nearly impossible to fool. He knew when I would tell a lie and when I was about to through a tantrum. There was one instance I got so mad I slugged him in the face and broke his glasses. After that the jacket was mandatory during all testing and therapy. There were even a couple of times I was thrown into the ever popular padded room.

Four months came and went and my father continued to visit often. Soon six months went by and then eight. I was 10 at that time and it was the first time I was allowed to see my sisters. But do to my temper I could only talk to them through a Plexiglas barrier. By that point my sisters seemed distant from me and I to them. It hurt. We seemed more like old distant friends than a family.

There was talk at one point about me getting of here after 14 months had passed. I decided that would be on my best behavior if I wanted to go live with my family again. I put with that bastard as best I could. A couple of days before my review one of the girl's that was in my age group killed herself suddenly by breaking the blades off the blinds in her room to get to the string. She used her weight to snap of the strings from the mount and wrapped it around her neck. She took the loose end and tied it around the doorknob. She was on her knees when she just let her full weight drop and pulled the string tight. She even pulled a little with her knees to get it as tight as she could. She slowly lost consciousness and then stopped breathing. It was about an hour before they found her and the only reason they found when they did was because one the nurses overheard me talking to her spirit in my own room.

That didn't set well at all. I was questioned about how I knew she was dead. I told them for the last 14 months I was speaking to ghosts so why should I repeat myself? I remained silent as they bombarded me with questions. The nurse had heard quite a bit of my conversation with the girl and the fact I knew not only had had died but how she died got to her so badly she transferred to another department. And yet again my release date was put on hold again until I came clean. Hell, I didn't know she was in that state of mind. It was the doctors' fault, not mine. They should have known. That's what they are there for. She had a nervous breakdown at school from bullying. I would think suicide watch would be on the top of the list. Honestly, if I had known I would have said something but I didn't so I couldn't.

I was still stuck in Karakura Mental Hospital for several months as in 6 more. It seem my talent for attracting the dead was becoming more and more profound. I was getting ghosts from all over the hospital and the surrounding grounds. I couldn't ignore them like I use to and I knew that bastard Ishida knew it. I had been on several different types of medicine and they didn't help. Sometimes I swore some the earlier meds made my ability even worse. I would wake up screaming as the spirits would constantly try to tell me things. I couldn't get away from them and I still can't even to this day.

It was evident I wasn't getting out. As I got older my ability got stronger and coupled with certain medications things did not go well. I couldn't get away from them and I couldn't get away from the nurses and doctors. I was stuck in a white prison. At one point when I eleven I was given a new pill to try. That only lasted about 2 days. It was the first time I had actually freaked the statue that is Ishida. I don't remember much but I do remember I was going absolutely berserk. It was like someone else was controlling over by body. I knew I had done some serious damage to the staff far more than any 11 year could ever do. It was almost like I had suddenly gained super human strength and speed. They actually had to use a strong sedative to bring me down. I was put into the padded room with two straight jackets on just for extra measure.

When everything had cooled down, and the drug was out of my system, little snippets returned to me. I remember feeling joy as I hurt the nurses and doctors. A deep fear later sunk in to my heart. That was something I shouldn't be happy about; hurting people to that degree. I had never gone off like that before. But between flashes of me bashing the staff I remember briefly pausing in front a reflective surface somewhere. What I saw wasn't me in the refection. Well, it was and it wasn't. It was me in the sense that it was my height, had on my clothes, and my face. But it looked like someone had just poured a few gallons of white paint all over body. I was just as white as my bed sheets in that reflection. But why I say it wasn't me was because of the most sinister smile that was planted on my face (or its face) and I could have sworn his eyes even looked golden.

My out burst from what I remember got national attention do to its severity. It was dubbed "The Devil of Karakura." Needless to say the mental hospital got into a lot of legal issues. It was amazing that this place wasn't shut down. I of course became a household name and my family caught a lot of flack for it too. People for a while stopped going to my dad's clinic, which was not good as it was only about 4 years old at the time. That put a large dent in my dad's wallet and he was almost forced to shut the clinic doors. But things sometimes have a way of turning around. After the fear subsided people then started to flock into the clinic out of the sheer novelty that it was associated with me.

As for me I was put into isolation after that, celebrity status or not. All that I knew was the whiteness of the damn padded room. I was in there for about week and I was monitored constantly. And although I apologized hundreds of times to the staff the damage was done. After my rampage, my stay here was infinite. At that point I had finally believed that maybe I really was mad. The only consolation about the whole thing was that the spirits had left for a couple of months but they did trickle back in eventually.

My father's visiting became less and less over the years. I only saw my little sisters on special occasions. We knew nothing of each other anymore. When they came to visit they would only stay like 15 minutes and leave. They're scared of me and this place. I can't say I blame them. I'm scared of myself and this white hell hole.

Eventually it came to a point where my sisters stopped coming altogether. Only my father came to visit and I could tell it was taking a toll on him. He was split trying to take care of me in the hospital, my sisters and his business. I would much rather have him look after the girls full time than devote his time with me. I was taken care of so to speak. After his last visit I told the nurse that I didn't want any more visitors. I knew that hurt him but it made me feel better knowing he didn't have to worry about me so much.

I hadn't seen him since I was 15 and I'm 23 now. I've adjusted somewhat to this white pit of disappear. I was granted a basic education while here. I'm so glad to know that if I get out of here I can work as a bagger in a local grocery store. So, yeah, fun stuff. Other than my daily pills and plenty of doctor/patient quality time I'm doing pretty good. I still see ghosts every single day. I have learned to use them to my advantage. They are good spies and I use them to help me keep tabs on Ishida and the rest of the staff. Knowledge is power and it pisses Ishida off to no end. He can't keep anything a secret from me. He doesn't show it much but it freaks him out. He gets a nervous eye twitch when he becomes unsettled.

There will always be animosity between us I fear. We do have one little joke between us; that I was the cause of his hair graying early. I really hope it to be true. So here I sit in my room with nothing more than a few things my father sent me in the mail. Like a photo of all of us together before mom passed. Different cardboard puzzles and word puzzles. I wasn't granted much access to mingle with other patients. If I scared the staff, just imagine what I could do to the other patients. So I'm left in isolation all the time but with all the ghosts hanging around I'm never really alone.

I heard a rumor that Ishida's son, who is about to graduate medical college, might be working on my case with his father. Ishida doesn't know that I know this. I'm going to give his son a rough course in all things Kurosaki Ichigo. I want to see if he's a stone pillar like his father or if he's made of something softer. In all honestly, I'm going to enjoy tearing the next Ishida generation apart like his father did me. I even know his name. His name is Ishida Uryu.

(A/N Long and short at the same time. I don't know how far I'll go with this one. But I wanted to do something where I can use creepy tones. See you all later!)

Millie M. Banshee