“Oh, I know. They always are. Nothing is ever private here. You know that.” I giggle. Jethro takes a step back, putting his hand out for me to take, helping me to stand. He never smiles. He used to, but ever since we got here, he’s been a ball of anger. Watching and waiting. “Even after all these years. They still think I tried to hurt myself. Not once have I shown any aggression towards anyone other than those that harm us or people I care about,” I sing as I drag my finger up the scars on my arm. “They say I liked it. That I wanted to cook myself.” My grin widens as the words leave my lips. “Funny isn’t it, Jethro,” I say as I tilt my head, listening as if someone is going to come in here and shut me up, then I burst out laughing, letting my voice carry through the room and out into the hall. A warning. “They weren’t there,” I whisper, and for a second, my laughterdies down and my eyes shift. Not to Jethro. Not the room, but somewhere else. Somewhere warmer.Suffocating.
The smell hits me first.Sweet. Rotting.The memory of that night burnt into my memory living deep in my lungs. The oven light, her smile. “It’s the only way I’ll get peace,” I whisper as my nails fly up to my face digging into the scars under my painted skin. “They said she was sick.” I pace. “They said she didn’t know.” I giggle. “They said I made it up.” I stop in my tracks, remove my fingers from my face, and a slow smile spreads again. “Jethro knows,” I whisper. My eyes flicker to him. Always to him. “And Jethro hates liars,”
Somewhere down the hall, a scream cuts through the building then another, then silence. I giggle, then hum a soft tune as I walk toward the door, but I stop and look at Jethro who stands beside me. “They think they locked me in here.” I giggle, and he lifts my hand, bringing it to his black lips. “But this is where I learned how to play.” I giggle again, reveling in Jethro’s cold lips against my skin. “They made me this way. Now, they get to keep me.” I smile sinisterly, and for the first time in a long time, Jethro smiles back and his red eyes light up like molten lava. I press my fingers against my painted lips then drag them slowly downward, stretching my red smile even wider. “Logan Gaggiano died eight years ago… Now Lolli-Gag is here to play…” I whisper, then resuming humming my soft tune as I leave my room and enter into the world of Hillsboro Institute—where no one gets to leave the same way they arrived.
And a-way we goooooo…
Welcome to Hillsboro Institute
Lolli-Gag
Walking down the hall towards group therapy with Dr. Petrova, I stop in front of Brielle’s room and wait for her to come out. She’s the only person besides Jethro that’s been here almost as long as I’ve been. I’ve been punished time and time again for killing the orderlies that hurt her. The screams that leave her room almost every night are embedded in my brain. I can never unhear them. I hate it. She reminds me of Lili, maybe it's because we click and she understands me and I her, or maybe it's just… I miss my friend. In the beginning, Lili would come visit, but then it just stopped. No warning. No letters just… silence. So, when Brielle arrived, I drifted to her, and now… I won’t allow the monsters of this place to breathe after they’ve harmed her.
“Good morning, Lolli. How are you today?” Brielle asks as she steps into the hallway. She grabs my hand and we skip together, giggling as we go.
“Just another morning, B. How did you sleep? I didn’t hear you last night so one can only assume it was a good night.” I giggle, and she smiles. Big and wide.
“You assumed correctly, my girl. Are you ready for group therapy?” she asks, and I nod.
“Yes. Let’s go get Axel before the guards start yelling.” I giggle, and we skip a few doors down to Axel’s room. He arrived not too long ago and hasn’t said a word yet. I call him mute boy. I’ve seen his file. He assaulted a nurse for touching him, and it specifically states to not touch him. Why can’t people just fucking listen. There’s a reason why he is the way he is, so if they would just respect people’s personal fucking space, maybe bad things wouldn’t happen.
We approach his room and I see he’s already waiting. I smile, and he nods then joins us. “Good morning, Axel,” Brielle whispers, and he nods again. I giggle and listen to the humming of the walls. Not too loud but enough to where I can hear it. It sounds like something is trapped behind the paint, scratching, waiting to be set free. I stop and press my cheek against the cool surface then smile. “They’re coming,” I whisper, and Jethro mutters,“I know,”as he comes up behind me, pulling me away from the wall.
“I smelt them before you did,”he states, making me giggle.Of course he did. He always knows first, which helps me out just at the right moments.
The door at the end of the hall buzzes then swings open and three sets of heavy footsteps vibrate against the tile floor.
“Let’s go, single file,” a guard yells, and Brielle lets go of my hand walking ahead of me with Axel on her tail.
The first one, I feel before I see.“That one cuts,”Jethro says quietly.“Look at his hands.”So, I tilt my head, watching him approach. Tall, clean, and not a hair out of place. Too pretty to be in here with his jet black hair and bright blue eyes that land on mine. They don’t leave. It’s like he’s studying me and sees right through the paint weighing heavily on my skin.
“Hold still, Canvas,” he says, and my body stills. Not because of him, but because Jethro’s fingers tighten around my wrist in warning.Why is it that I want him looking at me?
“He thinks you’re unfinished,” Jethro whispers.My lips twitch as an unsettled feeling rushes through me.Unfinished? Unfinished. Now I just want to throat punch him and see how hard he gags.My fists tighten at my sides, but his piercing eyes stab right through, forcing me to lean in and mirror him.
“He’s staring,” I say as the man in front of me narrows his eyes. So I do the same. Every breath he takes, I take it with him. His pointer finger twitches, so does mine.
“Let him, I want to see how long it takes before he reaches.”And I grin. Let him try because I’ll bite those fingers right from his hand and revel in his screams as blood pours from his open flesh. He finally looks away and glances over his shoulder as the second one glides as he walks, like the floor belongs to him and the air we breathe bends to make space for his presence.“Don’t listen to this one,”Jethro growls.“He’ll try to crawl inside your mouth and make a home there.”I giggle as he walks past me, but then he stops in his tracks as his gaze finds mine, while the other one stares like I’m a fucking circus act. I step closer as Jethro’s grip tightens yet again, but I’m fucking fascinated.
“Tell me the truth, Little Pretty One…” he says, his voice so smooth you would think it was dipped in honey. I tilt my head, taking another step. My fingers itch to glide them through his white hair but his deep chocolate brown eyes pin me in place.
“Which one?” I whisper as his breath fans my face. That's an odd thing to say to someone, and I thought I was the batshit crazy one. Jethro stays close to me, never letting go of my wrist. The first guy blinks then continues down the hall. The one in front of me licks his lips, making Jethro growl.“He lies prettier than you do. I don’t like it.”I hum in response. I don’t either, but I’m still intrigued. Someone from down the hall calls his name.“Lucifer,” they state, and I grin as the third one stomps over, and my grin widens.“This one breaks things, I want to see what he does with you.”I shiver at his words because I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. He stops right in front of me and raises a brow, but I laugh. This man ripples with anger just by his stance. He’s built for damage. And he steps closer to me, almost like he expects me to cower away because he may look scary, but I’m scarier.
“Hi, I’m Lolli… Lolli-gag. Welcome to Hillsboro.” I giggle, and his eyes widen. Perfect.“Don’t toy with him. He’ll rip the world apart for a sound like that,” Jethro warns.“Let him try,” I say as he walks away and I follow. Assuming we are all going in the same direction, but they stop and all three turn to look at me. My fingers twitch and I skip the rest of the way to therapy, humming a low tune as I go. “Why are they all still staring at me the same way? It’s creepy,” I whisper.
“They don’t.”
“Whatever that means.” I giggle, rolling my eyes. “Then how do they look at me, Mister Know-It-All?” I ask, stopping in my tracks and putting my hand on my hip, looking at him. He huffs while looking at them then to me.
“They are trying to figure out if you’re the knife or the one holding it,” he growls, and I can feel the ground rumbling beneath me from the anger radiating off of him.
“Why not both?” I answer, then continue to skip down the hallway entering the group therapy room. I twirl around the room greeting everyone who is already seated, then park my ass next to Brielle. I fold my hands over my chest and wait for the doc to begin. They like circles here. It makes things equal, safe, but to me they are just cages without corners. Nowhere to hide.
“Nowhere to angle yourself properly.”
“Well, that was quite an entrance, Logan. How are you today?” Dr. Petrova asks, and I smile while he watches me like I’m the problem he can’t seem to solve.
“I’m great, but I would be even better if for one session you address me as Lolli—Logan is dead.” I giggle, but he ignores me and asks Axel to introduce himself which he doesn’t.Hello, he's mute.He doesn’t speak and scans the room when the three new guys enter, taking their seats across from me.Great!
