BONUS CHAPTER: Five Years Later

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It has been 26 days since I have been back among society. I am forced to take medication and a tracking device was placed around my ankle, but it is a freedom I will accept. I have missed the little things like the smell of the air after it rains and the sound of children playing. I missed doing things such as reading on my bed and watching trash television while eating junk food. But most importantly, I missed Nick the most.

Nick visited me every day for a year and would bring me gifts such as flowers, most commonly white roses as they were seen "pure" by the doctors, and other things such as chocolate, magazines, and even a teddy bear. But all of the gifts had been confiscated within an hour of getting them and by the time I got them back, it appeared as if the gifts were thrown into a blender and given back to me directly after pulling them from the blades. But there had been one item I had always kept hidden from the doctors-something they couldn't take from me. It was something I looked at every morning upon waking up and every night before going to bed, sometimes even in the shower.

It is a tattoo. A simple initial "N" on my inner thigh that I had done with a needle and ink. After gaining a book on DIY crafts, I was able to mimic one of the crafts and do it to myself so I would be able to have an anchor to keep me sane. It is actually rather interesting to the fact that I had nearly broken back into insanity a few times, but upon remembering that tattoo, I would feel my body calm and the evil thoughts diminish.

Marking my second year, Nick got a new job on the other side of town and would only visit me three times a week, sometimes on days back to back, but the visits would be shorter. It was suggested by the doctors that I was allowed time to reflect on my own and so I only saw him during those times. When holidays came around, especially Valentine's Day, he wasn't allowed to see me or even bring me a gift as they "white coats" thought I may try to kill myself with what he brought me.

On the beginning of my fifth year, upon coming up on review, I was given a glowing report by my doctors since my behavior had changed from being depressed and tormented, into hopeful and giving. But as I hoped to see Nick there, I only found unfamiliar people dressed in oversized clothes while silently judging me. What nobody understands is that I am sick, not evil. I have battled with my alternate my entire life, one that has taken a life of its own and have dealt with the consequences of that. Thankfully, the court system saw this and allowed me probation as I was seen as "well enough to live among the masses under strict supervision", so although my every move is watched, this was my freedom.

I was able to return home and found that everything was the same, aside from a few new spider webs and bugs. The photos that were of my mom and I were lined on the walls and police tape was still placed throughout the house-even the blood stains were still present. It was a never ending nightmare of being stuck in a mistake. One I could not and can not control-one that has controlled me.

The only hope I had the entire time in isolation had been Nick-to be able to feel his hand on my face and his kiss on my lips would be the only thing keeping me sane. But I knew in order to be "right" for him, I would have to be right for me, so I began picking up the house; scrubbing, repainting, and fixing everything I could within my power. Whatever I couldn't fix, I would call for help and gain someone within a week-until eventually the house was well enough to sell.

It had been on the market for six months before any serious buyers, but even then, it took another year for an offer to come in. During this time, I found myself living in the barn as all the rooms in the house held horrid memories. I found a job at a library where I would organize, stock, and check out books for customers and volunteered at an animal shelter two days a week for a few hours for some form of a purpose. Whatever free time I had that was not spent reading, I would pick up the paper now and again and catch up on things I missed while in solitary. It was this moment, just when I felt normalcy was possible, that I came across the article.

The man whom I loved with all my heart had his name in bold print on the page of the newspaper. But my eyes then continued to read to find the section I was in.

The engagement announcements.

My eyes began to burn with hate as my heart broke as I spoke her name aloud, "Trina Stewart". And I could feel my body break in two as the evil thoughts began approaching, the thought of her blood on my hands and nobody in my way of regaining my relationship with Nick was all I could think about. I could only see red and if the medicine wouldn't kick in soon, so would Trina...

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