The Crystal 3, Jones M [fox in socks read aloud TXT] 📗

scared expression on his face.

Before I could speak, he came towards me and enveloped me in a hug. I was shocked for a moment. Seconds later, I found myself welcoming the hug and crying on his shoulder. Erick started rubbing my back, choosing to say nothing.

 

Chapter 02

Eleven months later

 

Emery's P.O.V

"So, Emery, tell me about your music," Charles asked, staring at me with an expectant look. I took a moment to think about my answer, narrowing my eyes in thought.

Charles was my therapist; he told me so a day after I was admitted in the hospital. 

We were both in my assigned ward in the hospital. White concrete walls surrounded us. The ceiling was painted a pale yellow, and there were bulbs on it that were currently off. There was even a glass window that showed the starry sky and a vast green grassland. The doctor and I had occupied two wooden chairs that were positioned near my bed. 

I recalled the day Zane took me to Crystalia after he stopped me from killing myself. I also recalled the silence and the questions that ensued when we went into the castle. Then on the next day, I was ambushed by paramedics. It seemed like a surprise to me, and I believed the people whom I once trusted were going to kill me for torturing them. 

One could imagine my surprise once I found myself in a padded room.

As stupid as it seems, I thought I was in heaven. Then came Doctor Charles. It then dawned on me that I was not in heaven but in a psychiatric ward. I tried to escape, but my magic could not work. I realized the place was enchanted to block the use of magic. In anger, I ignored the therapist for some time. I cried, feeling helpless as I thought how much I hated myself and the people who had me institutionalized.

The awful thoughts lasted for a while. I soon believed I had nothing to lose, and so I started talking to Doctor Charles. Our approaches were slow at first, with him just asking questions about small subject matters. 

As I got to know him, I found him to be a respectable and nice person. In fact, we were friendly enough for me to call him Charlie. What also had me feeling calm around him was the fact that he had told me that everything we would speak of would remain a secret. I found myself enjoying the conversations we had, and I started opening myself to him. 

He helped me realize that some of my thoughts about certain issues were wrong after telling him what went on in my life and the secrets I held inside.

Every secret.

We continued talking, and months later, I was deemed sane enough to be moved to another room- the current room I was in. Everything looked okay, and it increased the hope that I would soon get out of there.

"It's not something special," I shrugged off Charles' question about my music. "Everyone can sing whether they want to or not. I just used to do it because it was a hobby to me."

Charles furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at me.

"I would come here in Crystalia. You know the theater that exists around..." I trailed off, having no idea of how to explain my thoughts to him. Fortunately, Charles showed he understood me when he began nodding.

"I have no idea if it's still there. Anyway, I would go there, cast a spell on the musical instruments, then pretend to be some kind of famous musician."

"How did you feel?" Charles asked with an interested look. I was the one to furrow my eyebrows at the moment.

"Awesome," I replied. "I felt like all the troubles I had were gone. It was an escape for me. More importantly, it was fun."

"Why did you hide it?"

"It was my own secret. Besides, I wasn't sure I could sing well. I wouldn't want people to make fun of my voice if I didn't have the talent."

Charles nodded in understanding. "I would want us to talk about the time you performed in the American Idol."

I wanted to groan once he asked that question. "How is that relevant?"

"What pushed you to go on that stage?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"I wanted to show them that I too could sing." Charles already knew who I meant by 'them'.

"I don't think that is it," the therapist replied, shifting to get comfortable on his seat. "I think you did that because you wanted to."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Think about it. You felt alone, and you believed that everyone hated you."

"Everyone hated me," I confirmed.

"Regardless of that, you did it because you wanted to know if you had something you were good at."

"Not really, no," I replied. Charles stared at me with a raised eyebrow. "Alright, fine. Maybe a little."

"I can also say that you were afraid of losing yourself to all the awful things people thought you were. Your singing might have been a way for you to find out if your true self was still there."

"I'm not sure if I'm still myself. In fact, I don't know who I am," I emphasized as I stared at Charles. He was quiet as he looked at me in concentration.

He then said: "I know we talked about how people's words were probably what influenced you to take the potion to turn evil. And your song... I'm guessing the people you love were the inspiration for it, weren't they?"

"You mean the people I loved, and yes, they were. I wanted everyone to realize they didn't know me at all. I wanted them to have doubts about me and Bianca."

Charles remained silent for a while.

"Okay, why is this important to you?" I questioned.

"I'm trying to figure you out."

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It had been almost a year, and he still hadn't figured me out? What was wrong with him?

Before I could speak, Charlie beat me to it.

"I want you to rest. I'll come again tomorrow."

He abruptly stood up and exited the room, leaving me with an open mouth, not knowing what to say.

That was weird.

Erick's P.O.V

I looked through a monitor, watching Charles leaving the room. He exited Emery's ward that was far in the hallway and came to me with an angry expression.

"I don't think I can do this again," he said once he was a few feet in front of me. "This goes against my morals as a doctor and as a friend."

"But I want to talk to her," I insisted.

"And you think about doing that through me?" Charles asked, pointing his index finger at himself as he looked at me with a look of disbelief. "Your Majesty, this is wrong."

"She won't know a thing," I replied.

"Look at that," he said, motioning a finger to the large TV. It showed Emery still sat on a chair with a look of confusion.

"She suspects me already. Your Majesty, I advise that you back off. When she finds out that you are watching her, she will lose her trust in me, and that will ruin the progress I have already made with her treatment. Do you seriously want that to happen?"

"I understand, Doc, but listen to me. I made a big mistake by inflicting the problems that brought her here. I still feel guilty about them. I want to apologize to her, but she wouldn't want to see me. The only way I can talk to her is through you. So, please, Doc. Help me out."

Charles looked at me intently before sighing. I knew he was giving in.

"Fine," he replied. "But I advise it should be only once more. Emery will get more suspicious and might lose her trust in me."

I wanted to refute Charles' words, but he was right. The only choice I had was to make the next meeting count.

***********************************************************************************************

Zane's P.O.V

"Zane!" Ethan called out to me. I turned to face him, noticing that he was running towards me from the entrance of the castle. I stood to wait for him.

"What is it?" I asked him once he was near me.

"Erick wants us to go to him. He says we can go see Emery," he said. I felt a surge of happiness at the words he spoke. Then I immediately felt worried. 

I had no idea of how Emery would react at the sight of us.

"I don't think that is such a good idea," I replied. In the past few months, Ethan and Liam had somewhat forgiven Harry and me; they were still mad about what we did to Emery, and so they chose to have small talks with us. We weren't as tight as we used to be, but it was better that than nothing.

"Why not?" Ethan asked with a confused stare. "This is the only time that Doctor Charles will allow us to go see her."

It seemed weird that Emery wanted us to see her so soon.

"Fine, I'll come along," I replied. Ethan gave me a small smile. He grabbed my hand, and a few seconds later, we were at the hospital.

It was a hospital, but it did not look like one. It resembled a university campus. There were various gray buildings all around me of different sizes. I could even see a small park from where I stood!

My attention was brought back to a walking Ethan. I shot up before quickly following him. 

"We're here," Ethan announced once we reached a certain building. Just like the rest, it was gray, but it had the word 'MENTAL' on top of it. Ethan and I walked towards the entrance. It was a revolving door, and once I made it in, I mentally gasped at what I saw.

Ethan and I were met by an air-conditioned environment. We were standing on a maroon carpet. Lime-green walls stared at us, and there were plush pink couches in a large area that seemed to be a waiting room. Photos of inspirational words with cute animals were placed on each wall.

The area was the exact opposite of what I expected; it looked more of a hotel rather than a hospital.

"Hi," Ethan greeted, and I turned to see him speaking to a secretary who had her elbow supported by the glass-top desk. The secretary raised a finger as she continued talking to someone on the phone.

"Yes, how may I help you?" the secretary finally asked after her call ended.

"We are here to see Emery Davis," Ethan replied.

"I'm sorry, but no visitors are allowed to see her," she replied instantly without going through any documents.

"How do you certainly know that?" I inquired.

"Only five people are in this part of the hospital."

My jaw dropped in surprise.

"But the king sent us here."

"Upstairs, furthest room on the left," the secretary replied, directing her attention back to her phone.

We followed her instructions. The upper floor was composed of a hallway. Ethan and I walked through it, passing by white doors on either side of us. 

We turned and stopped at some kind of waiting room. It resembled the one we had just left, but the difference was the green couches and the blue walls. Erick, Selena and the rest of my bandmates had sat on the couches as they stared at a large 40-inch TV in front of them.

"Finally! They're about to start," Logan announced without even a greeting.

The screen