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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6. Chapter 05

Chapter 5

            The next day, I woke up with a billion and one thoughts in my mind.

            There was no straight answer to describe the discussion I had with my parents. I would probably describe it as mysterious, but that would be far too vague. They seemed far too uncomfortable for my liking, but I didn’t dare ask them. It was amazing they were telling me these things and I didn’t want to make it any harder for them.

            Everything seemed pretty normal, except for the fact I was able to eat breakfast with my family instead of alone. I used to eat breakfast with Carlos but that wasn’t possible. At least not anymore.

            I smiled in thought of my company. I felt so warm and fuzzy. It was feeling that felt foreign, but amazing all at the same time.

            “Have a nice day, Laney,” my mother wished. I got around to explaining about the motives behind the change in my name. I just thought it was time for a change and the best way to start was by greeting. I also changed a little in personality, but I didn’t want to be called Lanina, unless I was in trouble.

            The corners of my mouth upturned into a delightful smile. It wasn’t like I detested learning; it was more of the environment I was learning in. That was what I didn’t like.

            I couldn’t call myself a genius, but I could say my maturity level was a bit higher than most. For one, I didn’t have any reactions to the puberty topic in class. I didn’t have reactions to things that made most people giggle.

            “Okay,” I agreed. Maybe now wasn’t the best time to mention my detention or the fact I was in big trouble.

            I slung my bag over a shoulder and walked out of the house. There were no words to be exchanged and I was beginning to feel like a bug in a jar by the minute. It was as if my parents were coddling me on purpose.

            A vibration ran through my thigh in a jittery feeling. I grabbed my sleek, black phone out and read the text that lit up the screen.

Please don’t cause any trouble today. We just got a message from Mr. Corsuis, it read.

            I checked the sender and was surprise to see that it was from Adeline and Darren Huang. I was most likely expecting it from my parents or even Camille. Adeline and Darren were Camille’s parents and they were the best kind of parents. Initially, I called them ‘Mr. and Mrs. Huang,’ but they didn’t really like it. So, I called them Adeline and Darren. It felt strange for me though, just because they were adults and I didn’t like calling adults by their first names.

            Camille said I could’ve called them Mom and Dad, but I passed.

            For me, Mom and Dad were specifically reserved for Kiersta and Ricardo Silvers. It wasn’t personal. It was just because I could never replace my parents, even with my extended family.

            I texted back with a promise that I wasn’t going to do anything. But the thing was that it may not have been true. I could never really predict much with my erratic behaviour. It was like one minute I was bored and the next I had a crazy idea.

            That crazy idea usually led me to the principal’s office. Why was I not expelled yet?

            There was that same chill. Somehow it affected me a bit deeper than normal. I felt colder and a lot more alone. Where was Camille? She would walk to school with me all the time but I didn’t go to her house.

            You’re pride is going to kill you, a voice whispered in the back of my mind. The worst part was: it was right.

            Pride was a mutated version of my overconfidence. I tried to ignore it, but I was human after all. I wasn’t perfect and the people who couldn’t accept that just had to deal. That was including me.

            It was my secret Achilles heel. I had my flaws and they were very secretive, but they couldn’t be totally ignored.

            People snuck looks at me when I walked into the school. It seemed like they were a bit nervous. They made me look like I was unstable. It was just a prank. It wasn’t like anyone really got hurt.

            “That’s her,” someone whispered to their friend.  

            My attention snapped to the girl. She had a kind smile, if it were not for her snarky attitude and mocking eyes. She was mocking me for whatever reason. I could tell that she was a good person to her friends though. It was my stupid intuition again.

            I turned away and ignored whatever she had to say. I wished I could’ve prepared something witty as a comeback but there really wasn’t a point.

            Obviously, not everyone was whispering about me, but it was enough to get suspicious about. I was as confused as a patient with Alzheimer’s. It wasn’t like there was some scandalous rumor created by the Populars about me.

            Oh no, I thought in slight dread.

            Did I just manage to answer my own question?

            After reaching my locker and ignoring the slight verbal abuse, I had to go to class. It was so amazing that class was across the school, far away from my locker. Sarcasm people? I rolled my eyes in the cynical thought.

            I swear, the next person that giggles will regret it, I thought scarily. I was much angrier than I was sad or even embarrassed. What was there to be embarrassed about?

            As expected, a freshman took one glance at me and asked the closest person a question. Her slightly frizzy brown hair and well suited Indian features made her look like an immature freshman.

            “Excuse me?” I made my voice somewhat sweet. There was an undeniable trace of malice in it though. “Did you have something to say to my face?”

            “Nope,” she answered nonchalantly. She was brave, I’d give her that.

            “Well, do you know who I am?” I said it in a way that really was curious. It wasn’t snotty, nor was it in a way that showed how superior I thought I was. “Why is everyone pointing at me?” It was a strange feel to hear my voice so serious and patient.

            She looked around, as if there was someone that would kill her if she spoke to me. Then again, her social life would’ve probably been ruined.

            “I don’t know anything for sure but someone named Gwendolyn Archer said something about you. It was like, Laney Silvers must pay,” she said in a really preppy voice.

            I found myself laughing. “So Gwen Archer is some big shot popular, but she has time to make fun of some loser –in her opinion– that has no life? God, where is the logic?” I started ranting to the girl.

            She blinked once before staying silent. I forgot that I didn’t actually know her. “Well, there was a guy named Trent involved too,” she added helpfully.

            I laughed inside. And Travis said he was famous throughout the whole school, I thought skeptically. I was so going to rub it in his face afterward, as well as call him Trent for a while. So, Trent Colster? I made a move to keep that in my mind for the future.

            “It’s Travis,” I corrected, while laughing. “And what exactly did they say to do about me?”

            “Well, apparently they’re planning something. It was you who did the cricket thing, right?” I nodded proudly. I was already busted by the principal, so I didn’t see why my prank had to be kept secret anymore. “Well, they’re going to do something back. No one knows, but we do know something’s going to happen to you during lunch.”

            The shrill bell made her curse loudly. I was surprised that no teacher came out of their rooms to yell.

            We didn’t even bother saying goodbye. I just focused on getting to first period. I didn’t even know what I had, but if I was late, I was screwed.

            I burst through the door as if in a loud, dramatic scene. “The answer to–” The teacher stopped short. She took in my panting, pink faced appearance and sighed. “Laney Silvers? Take a seat. I’m hoping you have your homework done,” she said in a challenging tone.

            This teacher doesn’t like me, does she? My thoughts were kind of rhetorical, but there was some curiosity laced deep in them. Some of my teachers loved me and the others one hated me. There really was no neutral for that case. Why? I didn’t know.

            I was a good kid!

            I nearly burst out laughing at the thought. It was so untrue, was almost laughable. “Yes, Ms. Pyra,” I said in a calm voice. It sounded slightly faster than normal, probably due to my earlier sprinting.

            She glared at the rest of the class for some reason. Her dark brown eyes looked quite disappointed. It wasn’t as if all of us were delinquents. Most of us were actually really smart, but we just didn’t show it as often as others. I happened to have my brains intact and on full display.

            Maybe that’s why teachers hate me, I thought in realization. I’m too much of a Smart-Alec.

            I started daydreaming after half an hour. I didn’t care about whatever the teacher had to say. I knew that when we had our tests, I’d be panicking, but I just had so much on my mind.

            What would people who were after revenge do? They were seniors and I had to give them credit for potentially being smarter than me. I was just sneakier, but it may not have been enough to get out of this mess. I had to stand alone, but they had their entire group to back them up.

            A sharp bang sounded on the top of my desk. I nearly let out a not-so-polite word.

            “Laney, answer the question?” Ms. Pyra in all her tall, willowy frame asked. She had her hands on her hips in exasperation. Her dark skin masked the supposed redness of her anger, in her cheeks.

            “Yeah, funny story. I wasn’t paying attention,” I answered bluntly. This teacher wasn’t necessarily a bad teacher, but she was always trying to intimidate her students.

            “Excuse me?” She raised an eyebrow, challenging me to say it again.

            I felt like snapping back, but I had to remember, this was a teacher. No disrespect, no disrespect, no disrespect, I thought to myself. It calmed me down slightly.

“I got kind of bored and started daydreaming,” I answered even more calmly. It wasn’t as blunt, but I didn’t look the least bit nervous. I knew what I was getting into and I wasn’t being disrespectful so I didn’t see why people were giving me looks. I could even predict their thoughts,

‘Man, that chick’s got guts.’ Knowing guys, their thoughts would probably be mirrors of their images and ‘guy speak’ was just slang covering slang, covering English.

Ms. Pyra didn’t know what to say exactly. “I’ll pay more attention, okay? I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” I explained quietly. It wasn’t like I was sad or anything, I was just a bit frazzled. Thank God Camille wasn’t in this class. She would’ve interrogated me after class about it.

“Don’t patronize me,” she snapped furiously. I kind o understood her position though. She had just been schooled by a student, in school.

            I just rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking.

            Taking a quick glace to the board, I noticed a few questions written in the teacher’s messy cursive. Oh, those questions, I thought stupidly. Maybe I had blown things completely out of proportion.

            “It’s an interrobang,” I answered in an embarrassed voice. The question had something to do with naming the symbol on the board.

            She let out a clicking noise made with her tongue. It was probably due to frustration but I found it a bit rude. “Very good,” she answered, almost begrudgingly. I could feel the bubbling sensation of smugness ready to appear on my light grey eyes.

            The rest of the class was easy. I wasn’t bothered anymore because a part of me was actually paying attention to the sounds of Ms. Pyra. She became quiet after our confrontation and it was completely fine with me.

            Right when the bell rang, I nearly ran out of my seat. The tiled floor caused my shoes to make some squeaking noises as I skidded down the halls.

            I wasn’t running, exactly. But I did have somewhere to be. While I wasn’t watching, the side of my shoulder knocked into someone. I gritted my teeth and felt my jaw pain a bit. I didn’t dare do anything to acknowledge the ache.

            “Watch where you’re going, freshman,” Travis snapped in a less than friendly tone. What’s up with everyone thinking I’m a freshman? My mental thoughts became less calm and more agitated. I wasn’t short or anything, so what made me look like a freshman.

            “Actually, I’m a sophomore. And you’re stupid,” I answered back in a frustrated tone.

            “Oh, it’s you,” he said, making me sound like the scum under his shoe. “Well, you’re going to have a great lunch.” He smiled mockingly, flashing his slightly crooked teeth. I rolled my eyes and waved him off.

            I didn’t think too much about what he had to say. It was obvious there was some kind of threatening note there, but maybe I’d just skip lunch?

            “Laney!” A familiar voice was calling out to me. Camille, I thought, relieved and sour at the same time.

            I turned around to see her average figure walking through the halls. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled slightly ashamed. “I shouldn’t have mentioned your brother.” There was some level of embarrassment in her voice, but I pretended it didn’t exist. I knew how hard it was for Camille ­–or even anyone– to apologize to someone.

            “Eh, it was my fault too. We’re cool,” I said nonchalantly. I gave her a genuine grin that told her I was completely fine.

            Annoyance played on her face, but it seemed to be directed to herself. “I had something to say to you. Well, the Populars are going to get back at us with something. I don’t know what it is, but I got some kid to tell me. I had to threaten him though. I think there’s going to be some food fight during lunch, or something.” She looked so calm and nonchalant.

            “What are you planning?” I gave her a serious look, but it soon filled with amusement.

            She shrugged casually before following me to second period.

~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

            The halls buzzed with excitement of some sort. It was the small time frame before lunch.

            I didn’t look in anyone but Camille’s direction. People were pointing and whispering, but after giving loads of students glares, most of it stopped. “She’s so going to get it,” a girl whispered no-so quietly to her friend.

            I waltzed into the cafeteria without much fear. What was the worst that could happen? I didn’t really have a social life so I didn’t see what everyone thought was going to be funny.

            “Well, it’s now or never,” I whispered to Camille. Students started filing in after us in fear they’d get pranked too. Knowing Travis, he’d probably do something that was both humiliating and uncomfortable.

            A projector was brought into the center of the room. Well, this is going to be interesting, I thought wickedly. I didn’t know what they were going to do, but my telekinesis had a certain bond with electronics.

            Ready or not, Colster, here I am.

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