Turning Point: Part 6

And everything seems great and everyone is fakeNo one really knows youLook into their eyesRip off your disguiseLet them see the real youWho I am, smile empty soul.

Raven's POV:

After the tour, I tried to orient myself and find the way back to the room. I turned in a full circle, Cameron smiled. "If you're trying to get to the room, look at the numbers on the doors. Ours is 120 and 121, come on," He said helpfully as he took my small hand in his large one and led me to the room. His fingertips were rough, like mine.

I walked over to my bed sat down, staring off into space and subconsciously picking and scratching at my wrists. "Mind if I come sit with you?" he asked, I shrugged in reply. He walked over to me and sat on the edge of the bed next to me. "Hey, don't," he said, reaching over to grasp my wrist, that was currently wrapped in bandages.

"Why not?" I asked quietly. He still held onto my hand and I didn't pull away. "They check you for scratch marks, and if they find you with any there's no telling what could happen. They could simply check in more often, or they could move you to intensive. If you're itchy or having dry skin issues they have stuff that can help," he told me. "Thanks," I said softly, barely audible to even my own ears.

It was kinda nice, finally having somebody on my side. I wondered how long it would take him to figure out why I was here. "What is that on your leg?" Cameron asked. "Birthmark, it's a port wine stain," I said in reply. I had always been insecure about my birthmark, but it was getting easier to talk about.

I finally pulled my hand from his and ran my fingers through my hair, combing through it with the ultimate intent of pulling it back. He watched as I carefully plaited each of the three sections into a fishtail and then wove the three fishtails together into a thick braid. He seemed slightly surprised as I knotted the end of the braid onto itself before finger-combing the bangs over my right eye. "That's very clever, knotting your hair to hold it," he said. My hair was past my hips, thick, wavy, and easy as pie to deal with.

People with long hair often complained that it was a pain to do... I never had any problems with mine, took about ten minutes of time to do each day and I could do it in the car or bus on the way to school. It was probably long enough to strangle myself with if I wanted to do so. But if I tried to do that and survived they'd probably make me cut it, I thought. It had taken me sixteen years to grow it out, no way was I cutting it.

"I do that all the time at home, my sisters steal all my hair elastics and I got tired of looking for them so yeah," I said hesitantly, signing as well. I was still with my guard up, not wanting to let anybody in past the barriers I had up. I've been hurt so many times in sixteen years, I don't need anybody else who can break me. I had plans to just keep to myself and fake getting better just so I could get the hell out of here. But that plan was kind of messed up when some people kept trying to get past my blockade. When the going got tough I tended to retreat into my mind, my head was one of the few places I felt totally safe.

Just then, somebody knocked and opened the door. "Hey Tristan," Cameron said, obviously recognizing the dude. He appeared to be in his mid twenties at first glance, with a bit of scruff on his jaw, and very lean. He also wasn't wearing the staff clothing, he was wearing jeans and a Black Veil Brides tee shirt. I looked again, my mind busy analyzing his bone structure, from the top down. He appeared younger than he was, he was more likely in his thirties. He had a bit of a limp, his left leg was bad. "What's shakin, Cam? Raven, right?" he questioned, looking at me. I nodded in reply, wondering who exactly he was. "How's your stay been so far?" I made a so-so motion with my hand. "I was just getting to know my new roommate, Tris," Cam said.

"I just wanted to say hi and introduce myself to Raven before her first group session. I'm Tristan Delgado, everybody just calls me Tristan or Tris though. Whichever works for you." I nodded to confirm that I had heard him. "Black Veil Brides, huh Tris?" Cam asked him. "Yeah, got this shirt at one of their concerts. What kind of music do you like, Raven?" he asked me. I pointed at his shirt and very reluctantly signed an answer, alternative and rock.

"You listen to alternative too?" Tris asked, I nodded. "That's cool, I usually listen to more death metal but alternative is good too," Tris said. "How old are you, Raven?" He could have read my chart, or asked Doctor Foster. He was trying to engage me in conversation. But it wasn't going to work. I responded with sign, using a few choice words; a couple of f-bombs claiming their place in the language. "Well, I guess seeing as you don't want to talk I'll leave you guys to it. Good luck with her, Cam," Tristan smiled before he walked out.

"Issues with authority or something? What was all that with your hands?!" he asked, seeming shocked. "No, I just generally don't like people." I lied. I just have major issues when people think they know what's best for me when they haven't known me more than a week. "And the hands, that was me cursing at him in sign," "Good to know. Anything I absolutely need to know about my new roommate? A bit about you, anything?" Cameron asked, leaving the question extremely open ended.

That made me think, who exactly was I? WHAT was I? Was I a demon in a teen girl's body, was I a daughter, a sister, a friend? What was I?! "There's really not much to know about me. I'm just an outcast who tends to keep to herself. I'm just one of the endless tortured souls of this world," "I beg to differ on that. There must be SOMETHING that makes you unique. I've already caught a bit about you from your actions and few words, should I tell you what I know?" he tried. I shrugged in response.

"Alright. Your hair, you mentioned that your sisters keep stealing the elastics and that you knot it back a lot. From that I would guess you prefer to keep your hair back and that you have at least one sibling but since you used the plural sisters... I'm going with you have more than one. You get very disoriented and turned around in new places. You play a string instrument of some sort where your hands are in contact with the strings. I know you sign at least a little from you cursing at Tristan. And that you listen to Black Veil Brides. How am I doing so far?" he asked me. I have to admit, he's good. Would make a good cop, for sure, with how observant he is.

"You would make a pretty good cop. Very observant. I do knot my hair almost every time I pull it back, my sense of direction isn't the strongest at first in new places, and yes, I play guitar and a bit of violin and cello. I do sign, a lot. Oh yeah, and four siblings. Roksana, aka Rocket, is twelve. Julia and Jenni were born pygopagus, or some might say iliopagus, conjoined twins. Literally, joined at the hip. My uncle, when they got older, started saying they were joined at the ass. The backs of their pelvises never split apart in utero, so they were surgically separated at eighteen. Chris is my fraternal twin, we're both sixteen. What about you? Any siblings, do you play an instrument?" I queried. I used a bunch of science speak to make it seem like I had revealed more than I actually did share, I'm not sure if it worked or not... "Yeah, a sister. Maya. She's eleven. I play guitar, a bit of drums." he answered.

This older woman pops in next. "Hi Raven, I'm Jayme. Here to escort you two to lunch," she says in a high pitched voice that wasn't exactly easy to understand. I look at her uniform, right above her name is stitched two symbols. I recognized both, one was the signer's hands which meant she signed, and the other a broken ear meaning she was probably hard of hearing or deaf. I sign to Jayme, who seems pleased to know she can use her native language with me at least.

Cameron stands and offers a hand, which I take and he pulls me up. "Wouldn't want you to get lost again in here," he jokes, lacing his fingers into mine. I cracked a small smile and he grinned. We made it to the dining hall and got in line. "You want to go first?" "No, thanks. I'll be behind you," I say softly. He doesn't push me and lets me step in line behind him. They can't let us have forks or knives, so anything that can be eaten with your fingers or a spoon is on the menu. "The broccoli cheddar soup looks disgusting but it tastes a lot better than it looks," He whispered in my ear. I took his advice and got some of the soup and a piece of bread.