Cracked

Laney Silvers is deemed crazy. After a run in with an armed thief, her telekinesis secret is out. Her parents -instead of being thankful they're alive- send her to Marigold Mental Institution for Troubled Teens. Laney, being the rebel of her school, is welcoming the facility with open arms. But the dark secrets at Marigold Institution may be too much for Laney. Even she doesn't have that much courage. See, something's been awakened but no one will say anything. The name 'Madeleine Farrow' makes the staff cringe. All the mirrors are cracked and windows are all boarded up. Why are there charred pictures of a child with her face scratched out? What is really going on, right under Laney and her friends' noses? Laney find herself caught up in a history far crazier than just telekinesis. She must now fight for her life because it may be the only thing she has left.

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5. Chapter 04

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Chapter 4

          I sucked in a shaky breath. There was absolutely nothing there. It seemed calm and quiet, but there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in the room.

            The closet door swung open and my mother walked out. She looked much more professional and her eyes were exhausted under all the strength. “Lanina,” she started. “What are you doing in here?” She didn’t seem angry, just happy to see me.

            “I call myself Laney,” I explained awkwardly. I never told my parents that because they weren’t home to see my change. “And I just wanted to see you.”

            She seemed to accept my answer. “Well, can you see me later? I’m dead tired and I am probably going to pass out,” she answered casually. It was always very strange to talk to my mom, just because I never really knew what to say. Good thing I hated awkwardness and I always got rid of it.

            It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.

            I smiled slightly, leaving the room. There was an odd feeling in the back of my mind though. I felt like there was something not right with the way my mom talked.  It seemed so forced and even though she was tired, she didn’t sound tired.

            Strange.

            My laptop sat on my bed and I was very tempted to write something to Camille. She always understood my problems; sometimes even better than me. She was blatantly honest though, which may or may not have been a good thing.

            I sucked up the pride and messaged her. I asked her if she was willing to talk.

            There was no reply. My laptop didn’t making a ding, nor were there any harsh words on the glowing screen. I wished there were at least some insults there. It made me sad to know that Camille was ignoring me.

            The doorbell rang and I walked to get it. It was Camille; at least that was what I hoped.

            I opened the locked door to reveal a tall man. “Yes?” I put on a brave face, just because I didn’t know what to do. He looked like a serial killer.

            “Kiersta Silvers?” He looked at me with his small beady eyes. I gulped at the mention of my mom. What did he want with her? How did he know she was home? Even I didn’t know she was home...

            I debated on what to do. He was a strange man and could’ve probably taken me out in a second. It also looked like he carried weapons.

            “Wait one second please?” It seemed more like a question. I wanted to sound the least bit in control. I wanted to show him I wasn’t scared, but then again, I should’ve have waited for my father to open the door. He would’ve known how to react.

            The man only grunted in response. He then proceeded to mutter about a stupid kid taking up too much of his time.

            I scampered away, trying to find my father. My mother was busy and he would probably be able to help. Yes, I was a coward and I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t do anything. I wasn’t stupid, nor did I want to test the patience of the threatening man.

            My father’s office was at the end of the hallway on the second floor. It was usually locked because he had much more pressing matters to attend to than talk to me. I was also quite noisy.

            According to him.

            I didn’t even bother knocking before I opened the door.

            My father was sitting in his leather wheeled chair with some paperwork and an earpiece in one ear. How was he able to talk, discuss and work at the same time? Maybe he really was just special. I definitely didn’t give him enough credit.

            He turned to look at me with a befuddled expression on his face. The light in the earpiece went out to let me know that he was done talking. I bounced on the balls of my feet nervously.

            “Well?” His eyebrow shot up questioningly.

            “You see there’s this guy that looks like a bounty hunter outside. He wants to speak to Mom, but she’s sleeping. And you know, he’s scary but come on, I don’t want to die. I’ve got friends, and you guys and that whole life ahead of me!” It all came out into a mashed up mess. I tended to do that when I was nervous. I really couldn’t shut up, but then again, I never put in an effort to try.

            Even in all my terror and panic, my father shot out of his seat and bolted to the man. So he was important, I thought in surprise.

            They talked quietly, so I couldn’t hear them. The curiosity in my mind and spirit told me that I was supposed to spy on him. I felt wary of my choices, but sucked up the guilt and went through with it.

            My father led Mr. Nelson into an empty room. There were no pleasantries shared between the two men. They actually seemed quite stoic and even a bit awkward.

            I could see the mood of the intentions on Mr. Nelson’s face. He looked quite angry about something and even looked a bit threatening. I pocketed around for my phone to make sure it was there. It was just for precaution.

            The hiding spot I chose was right behind the door adjacent to the empty storeroom.

            It seemed strange. We had been living in the same house for fifteen years. Toronto was our home, but there were still empty rooms. Even Dad’s room was partly empty. He only had a bed, a desk and a bookshelf. There was never anything else because there were never any opportunities to go furniture shopping.

            I hated seeing things that reminded me of my isolation.

           

            “Mr. Nelson!” My father’s sturdy voice sounded anything but welcoming. “I didn’t expect you so early. My wife is sleeping right now. I think you should come back later.”

            There was some unknown hostility in his voice that made me wary. My father was many things, but he was far from a tyrant. He was also usually very calm and collected. Maybe today was just an off day for him...        

            “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. The boss has specific orders for you and your wife,” he threatened in a slight country accent. The wrinkles in his face became more prominent as he got angrier.

            My father looked at him disbelievingly. He whispered something quietly and Mr. Nelson nodded stiffly.

            My father was coming back, right where I was hiding. I closed my eyes and he looked at me strangely. “What are you doing?”

            There was no accusation on spying, but apparently, I looked weird. Take it, a voice yelled in my mind. You aren’t getting in trouble. What more do you want?

            “W-well, I was just eavesdropping in on what you were saying,” I said sarcastically. There was a slight waver in my voice, but hopefully it didn’t take away from my tone. I learned a long time ago that if you used sarcasm, the person accusing you would feel stupid and stop questioning you.

            That didn’t work on my father though.

            Instead of being angry at my tone, he actually laughed. “Wow, Laney, you’ve changed. And thank you for your honesty, but go to your room,” he ordered in mock-seriousness. I laughed at the disapproval in his tone even though it was fake.

            “You’re welcome, dear father,” I added jokingly. “And thanks for calling me Laney. Lanina, that’s so Aunt Gertrude,” I muttered under my breath.

            Dad didn’t acknowledge the fact that I was spying on him. Instead, he laughed ad brushed it off. I missed the laughter that was vacant whenever my parents weren’t in the house. It really warmed my heart and it was like a smile had been carved in a statue.

            I stayed in the hiding spot I was in. If the man was going to do something, I knew karate. Actually, I didn’t, but I read somewhere self defence kicked in when a person was threatened.

            You’re kidding right, Laney? I heard a voice say in my head. You don’t even know how to play soccer. You tripped over the ball and scored on yourself.

            Did I mention how much I hated that voice?

            It felt like I had a Travis living in my head, putting me down. Did I really have that much insecurity, or was I just strange?

            I could hear Mr. Nelson inside the room. He was moving around and it sounded like he was on the phone. He didn’t seem very happy either. He seemed kind of scared and I could honestly hear the person on the other end yelling at him.

            They sounded like they were part of a gang. It kind of made sense, but why would my father have been part of something like that? He was just a business man after all. They were almost perfectly harmless.

            “Kill them if you need to,” a raspy voice came through the door. It wasn’t Mr. Nelson; that much I knew.

            It all became clear to me, like the final revelations in a murder mystery. Mr. Nelson was a pawn, controlled by the person on the phone. He was only taking orders and if anyone was a threat, it was the man on the phone.

            There was no doubt he was powerful. You needed to be somebody to bark orders like he did. My body curled in tension at his reply.

            There were muffled words exchanged and I cursed, rather loudly might I have added. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You might as well write your will now, I thought in horror. I was so screwed.

            I could hear Mr. Nelson coming over to check out who was here. Who knew if he had a weapon on him? That really didn’t matter if you took a look at his stature and body physique.

            I was going to be dead in less than 0.2 seconds.

            Thankfully, the footsteps of my Spanish father came into view. Never had I ever been so thankful to see someone.

            Right when Mr. Nelson opened the door, my father was there. “Here is your money,” my father growled.

            “Thank you. I’m sure ‘The Boss Man’ will be very forgiving. In the meantime, keep track of this one,” Mr. Nelson sneered right back. His big calloused hands grasped my neck in a semi-tight grip that made me kick him in the shin.

            He ground out in pain before taking a step back. “I don’t think she needs keeping track of. I happen to know you have an eight year old. Why don’t you keep track of him?” My father looked psychotic in rage. He wasn’t yelling –thank God, but it was scary.

            There was smugness in my grey eyes. “Get out of our house,” I bit out, looking right at him.

            He only grinned in response. “What are you going to do about it, child?” I snorted without fear. It wasn’t like he was about to kill me anytime soon.

            Not to mention you’ve got telekinesis, a voice sang in my head. Oh yeah, telekinesis. How could I have not remembered that?

            “Oh, it isn’t what I’m going to do. It’s why my Dad is going to do. Unless you want to leave with a jar containing your teeth, get the heck out of my family’s house,” I said monotonously. The best way to deal with idiots was to be blunt.

            He laughed before taking a few steps, toward the front door. When he was nearly pressed against the door, he swung it open and walked out.

The sunlight made is alabaster skin tone even more pasty. It made him look sickly and sort of like a skin covered version of a corpse. There were also bystanders out on the streets. They looked at Mr. Nelson with a guarded expression which made me kind of anxious. He looked like a criminal in broad daylight while everyone else was watching.

“Care to explain?” I tried to make my voice light and airy.

My father looked at me with his lips pressed together. “We need to talk. Your mother and I have some things to tell you,” he said looking undecided. It confused me greatly, but I didn’t dare ask anything.

            I only nodded stiffly. There was an unknown seriousness in his tone and matching grey eyes. I didn’t dare question it though.

            “Are you part of a gang?” It was only after I said it, did I regret it.

            My father’s incredulous expression was almost comical. It was only that he looked genuinely confused. “No,” he said, crinkling his eyebrows. “Why would you think that?”

            I took a seat after we moved to the living room. My father left to go upstairs and talk to Mom, but I could hear them whisper. There were occasional mentions of my name and something about a secret. They were anxiously counting down on something, but I didn’t know what.

            I didn’t know why Dad expected me to stay put, but spying and espionage were skills I was really good at.

            I could see –through a crack in the door– that my mother and father were arguing about something. Thankfully, they were mellow about it, unlike before.

            “Kiersta,” my father started.

            “Don’t you dare call me out,” she whispered back harshly. Her fair skin made her southern belle beauty stand out. “You know we have to tell her some time. She has two options. If she happens to be the first one, she’s going to go to Marigold. My sister had to go there and now she’s fixed. Just trust me on this, please.” My mom was going to send me away? I thought I was a good kid.

            “But the rumors about that place. Do you trust them at all?”

            “Ricardo, if it doesn’t work, we’ll get her back.” My mom placed one hand on his and he accepted.

            So I had two options. I leaned against a doorframe, thinking about the possibilities of not getting sent away. I didn’t know what was going on and the way my mom spoke made me nervous.

            It was almost like she wanted me out of the family picture.

Chapter 4

          I sucked in a shaky breath. There was absolutely nothing there. It seemed calm and quiet, but there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary in the room.

            The closet door swung open and my mother walked out. She looked much more professional and her eyes were exhausted under all the strength. “Lanina,” she started. “What are you doing in here?” She didn’t seem angry, just happy to see me.

            “I call myself Laney,” I explained awkwardly. I never told my parents that because they weren’t home to see my change. “And I just wanted to see you.”

            She seemed to accept my answer. “Well, can you see me later? I’m dead tired and I am probably going to pass out,” she answered casually. It was always very strange to talk to my mom, just because I never really knew what to say. Good thing I hated awkwardness and I always got rid of it.

            It’s only awkward if you make it awkward.

            I smiled slightly, leaving the room. There was an odd feeling in the back of my mind though. I felt like there was something not right with the way my mom talked.  It seemed so forced and even though she was tired, she didn’t sound tired.

            Strange.

            My laptop sat on my bed and I was very tempted to write something to Camille. She always understood my problems; sometimes even better than me. She was blatantly honest though, which may or may not have been a good thing.

            I sucked up the pride and messaged her. I asked her if she was willing to talk.

            There was no reply. My laptop didn’t making a ding, nor were there any harsh words on the glowing screen. I wished there were at least some insults there. It made me sad to know that Camille was ignoring me.

            The doorbell rang and I walked to get it. It was Camille; at least that was what I hoped.

            I opened the locked door to reveal a tall man. “Yes?” I put on a brave face, just because I didn’t know what to do. He looked like a serial killer.

            “Kiersta Silvers?” He looked at me with his small beady eyes. I gulped at the mention of my mom. What did he want with her? How did he know she was home? Even I didn’t know she was home...

            I debated on what to do. He was a strange man and could’ve probably taken me out in a second. It also looked like he carried weapons.

            “Wait one second please?” It seemed more like a question. I wanted to sound the least bit in control. I wanted to show him I wasn’t scared, but then again, I should’ve have waited for my father to open the door. He would’ve known how to react.

            The man only grunted in response. He then proceeded to mutter about a stupid kid taking up too much of his time.

            I scampered away, trying to find my father. My mother was busy and he would probably be able to help. Yes, I was a coward and I hated myself for it, but I couldn’t do anything. I wasn’t stupid, nor did I want to test the patience of the threatening man.

            My father’s office was at the end of the hallway on the second floor. It was usually locked because he had much more pressing matters to attend to than talk to me. I was also quite noisy.

            According to him.

            I didn’t even bother knocking before I opened the door.

            My father was sitting in his leather wheeled chair with some paperwork and an earpiece in one ear. How was he able to talk, discuss and work at the same time? Maybe he really was just special. I definitely didn’t give him enough credit.

            He turned to look at me with a befuddled expression on his face. The light in the earpiece went out to let me know that he was done talking. I bounced on the balls of my feet nervously.

            “Well?” His eyebrow shot up questioningly.

            “You see there’s this guy that looks like a bounty hunter outside. He wants to speak to Mom, but she’s sleeping. And you know, he’s scary but come on, I don’t want to die. I’ve got friends, and you guys and that whole life ahead of me!” It all came out into a mashed up mess. I tended to do that when I was nervous. I really couldn’t shut up, but then again, I never put in an effort to try.

            Even in all my terror and panic, my father shot out of his seat and bolted to the man. So he was important, I thought in surprise.

            They talked quietly, so I couldn’t hear them. The curiosity in my mind and spirit told me that I was supposed to spy on him. I felt wary of my choices, but sucked up the guilt and went through with it.

            My father led Mr. Nelson into an empty room. There were no pleasantries shared between the two men. They actually seemed quite stoic and even a bit awkward.

            I could see the mood of the intentions on Mr. Nelson’s face. He looked quite angry about something and even looked a bit threatening. I pocketed around for my phone to make sure it was there. It was just for precaution.

            The hiding spot I chose was right behind the door adjacent to the empty storeroom.

            It seemed strange. We had been living in the same house for fifteen years. Toronto was our home, but there were still empty rooms. Even Dad’s room was partly empty. He only had a bed, a desk and a bookshelf. There was never anything else because there were never any opportunities to go furniture shopping.

            I hated seeing things that reminded me of my isolation.

           

            “Mr. Nelson!” My father’s sturdy voice sounded anything but welcoming. “I didn’t expect you so early. My wife is sleeping right now. I think you should come back later.”

            There was some unknown hostility in his voice that made me wary. My father was many things, but he was far from a tyrant. He was also usually very calm and collected. Maybe today was just an off day for him...        

            “I’m sorry, I can’t do that. The boss has specific orders for you and your wife,” he threatened in a slight country accent. The wrinkles in his face became more prominent as he got angrier.

            My father looked at him disbelievingly. He whispered something quietly and Mr. Nelson nodded stiffly.

            My father was coming back, right where I was hiding. I closed my eyes and he looked at me strangely. “What are you doing?”

            There was no accusation on spying, but apparently, I looked weird. Take it, a voice yelled in my mind. You aren’t getting in trouble. What more do you want?

            “W-well, I was just eavesdropping in on what you were saying,” I said sarcastically. There was a slight waver in my voice, but hopefully it didn’t take away from my tone. I learned a long time ago that if you used sarcasm, the person accusing you would feel stupid and stop questioning you.

            That didn’t work on my father though.

            Instead of being angry at my tone, he actually laughed. “Wow, Laney, you’ve changed. And thank you for your honesty, but go to your room,” he ordered in mock-seriousness. I laughed at the disapproval in his tone even though it was fake.

            “You’re welcome, dear father,” I added jokingly. “And thanks for calling me Laney. Lanina, that’s so Aunt Gertrude,” I muttered under my breath.

            Dad didn’t acknowledge the fact that I was spying on him. Instead, he laughed ad brushed it off. I missed the laughter that was vacant whenever my parents weren’t in the house. It really warmed my heart and it was like a smile had been carved in a statue.

            I stayed in the hiding spot I was in. If the man was going to do something, I knew karate. Actually, I didn’t, but I read somewhere self defence kicked in when a person was threatened.

            You’re kidding right, Laney? I heard a voice say in my head. You don’t even know how to play soccer. You tripped over the ball and scored on yourself.

            Did I mention how much I hated that voice?

            It felt like I had a Travis living in my head, putting me down. Did I really have that much insecurity, or was I just strange?

            I could hear Mr. Nelson inside the room. He was moving around and it sounded like he was on the phone. He didn’t seem very happy either. He seemed kind of scared and I could honestly hear the person on the other end yelling at him.

            They sounded like they were part of a gang. It kind of made sense, but why would my father have been part of something like that? He was just a business man after all. They were almost perfectly harmless.

            “Kill them if you need to,” a raspy voice came through the door. It wasn’t Mr. Nelson; that much I knew.

            It all became clear to me, like the final revelations in a murder mystery. Mr. Nelson was a pawn, controlled by the person on the phone. He was only taking orders and if anyone was a threat, it was the man on the phone.

            There was no doubt he was powerful. You needed to be somebody to bark orders like he did. My body curled in tension at his reply.

            There were muffled words exchanged and I cursed, rather loudly might I have added. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! You might as well write your will now, I thought in horror. I was so screwed.

            I could hear Mr. Nelson coming over to check out who was here. Who knew if he had a weapon on him? That really didn’t matter if you took a look at his stature and body physique.

            I was going to be dead in less than 0.2 seconds.

            Thankfully, the footsteps of my Spanish father came into view. Never had I ever been so thankful to see someone.

            Right when Mr. Nelson opened the door, my father was there. “Here is your money,” my father growled.

            “Thank you. I’m sure ‘The Boss Man’ will be very forgiving. In the meantime, keep track of this one,” Mr. Nelson sneered right back. His big calloused hands grasped my neck in a semi-tight grip that made me kick him in the shin.

            He ground out in pain before taking a step back. “I don’t think she needs keeping track of. I happen to know you have an eight year old. Why don’t you keep track of him?” My father looked psychotic in rage. He wasn’t yelling –thank God, but it was scary.

            There was smugness in my grey eyes. “Get out of our house,” I bit out, looking right at him.

            He only grinned in response. “What are you going to do about it, child?” I snorted without fear. It wasn’t like he was about to kill me anytime soon.

            Not to mention you’ve got telekinesis, a voice sang in my head. Oh yeah, telekinesis. How could I have not remembered that?

            “Oh, it isn’t what I’m going to do. It’s why my Dad is going to do. Unless you want to leave with a jar containing your teeth, get the heck out of my family’s house,” I said monotonously. The best way to deal with idiots was to be blunt.

            He laughed before taking a few steps, toward the front door. When he was nearly pressed against the door, he swung it open and walked out.

The sunlight made is alabaster skin tone even more pasty. It made him look sickly and sort of like a skin covered version of a corpse. There were also bystanders out on the streets. They looked at Mr. Nelson with a guarded expression which made me kind of anxious. He looked like a criminal in broad daylight while everyone else was watching.

“Care to explain?” I tried to make my voice light and airy.

My father looked at me with his lips pressed together. “We need to talk. Your mother and I have some things to tell you,” he said looking undecided. It confused me greatly, but I didn’t dare ask anything.

            I only nodded stiffly. There was an unknown seriousness in his tone and matching grey eyes. I didn’t dare question it though.

            “Are you part of a gang?” It was only after I said it, did I regret it.

            My father’s incredulous expression was almost comical. It was only that he looked genuinely confused. “No,” he said, crinkling his eyebrows. “Why would you think that?”

            I took a seat after we moved to the living room. My father left to go upstairs and talk to Mom, but I could hear them whisper. There were occasional mentions of my name and something about a secret. They were anxiously counting down on something, but I didn’t know what.

            I didn’t know why Dad expected me to stay put, but spying and espionage were skills I was really good at.

            I could see –through a crack in the door– that my mother and father were arguing about something. Thankfully, they were mellow about it, unlike before.

            “Kiersta,” my father started.

            “Don’t you dare call me out,” she whispered back harshly. Her fair skin made her southern belle beauty stand out. “You know we have to tell her some time. She has two options. If she happens to be the first one, she’s going to go to Marigold. My sister had to go there and now she’s fixed. Just trust me on this, please.” My mom was going to send me away? I thought I was a good kid.

            “But the rumors about that place. Do you trust them at all?”

            “Ricardo, if it doesn’t work, we’ll get her back.” My mom placed one hand on his and he accepted.

            So I had two options. I leaned against a doorframe, thinking about the possibilities of not getting sent away. I didn’t know what was going on and the way my mom spoke made me nervous.

            It was almost like she wanted me out of the family picture.

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