be my runaway;; open

[LORENZO OLLIE SHAW]

Y O U R P I C T U R E I S W O R T H
1000 lies

The room is musky, white walls picked apart by age. Plaster and clay puddled the floor making it hard for the nurses and patients to move around in the room for art therapy. Room 415 was the art room, and Ollie sat at a large table by himself with a piece of foam board and an original sketch of what he was going to create. The eighteen year old had been always very artsy before getting kicked out on the streets so it was thought that maybe if he was again put into an art like state he would respond better towards treatment. The sketch was of wolf howling at the moon while standing on a nude woman. He was very morbid; as was his personality and as long as he behaved he would be able to draw such images.

The foam board was dyed cardinal red with black stripes drawn on with pen but the boy who sat their looked sad. "Miss how am I supposed to make this if I have nothing to cut with, if I promise to be careful and a good boy can I have a blade to cut with?" he asked the nurse who was supervising the group in the art room. The lady in pink shook her head, it was protocol to keep all sharp objects away from the patients for safety, and in all honesty the woman was not too fond of being with the high risk patients at all in such a dangerous environment. Ollie sighed and then went back to drawing with his black ink. The picture was now the nurse laying under the wolf but instead of the animal hungry for blood he looked hungry for sex. The lady in pink got scared from this picture and went to the other side of the room. Oliver only laughed at this and then painted it over with the red paint. ”that’s one way to get her out of here” he laughed to himself before looking around his surroundings for something sharp. He found it suddenly and wanted to jump up for joy. On the table next to him was a blade, doc must have not cleaned up. Ollie took hold of it and started to cut away the foam to make his sketch come to life.

Foam and paper cluttered his clean white desk, red paint filling its top with the arousing appearance of blood. This image only fuelled his creative morbid mind. A couple more cuts and then he would be done, a couple more, a couple more… wait… is that blood? Disguised by the red paint Ollie’s hand began to bleed from cutting himself deeply with the blade. He didn’t want to get into trouble so he bit his lip and tried to act like nothing was wrong… he wanted to taste it so badly but he could feel eyes watching him. He didn’t want to go back into seclusion. Blood would have to wait.

Wordcount: 497
tags: open
comments: none
Muse: Farewell Unknown[/size][/b]

[DAKOTA ALIS MIDDLETON]

Black and blue my petals fall on broken glass.

Teach me how to love and to forget the past.
[/center]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Stands of her hair fell as Dakota quickly made her way to the art room, walking several steps in front of an old, run down-looking nurse. Despite only getting four hours of sleep, she had overslept and the nurses must have forgotten to wake her up. Nights were normal, considering what she had endured. She laid in bed, stomach growling, bones aching, have breezes of sweat blow through her body. Sometimes she went to sleep coughing, wheezing, a product of constantly smoking and her anorexia but that was the norm. It was what she had known for the past few years and she made sure it would stay that way. As she entered the art room she remembered her fathers office. Not because it was covered with painting supplies, paint included, but because it was messy, papers thrown across tables. A rush of emotion quickly made its way into her body, making sure she knew how she felt. She swallowed and regained her composed, then nodded to the nurse, a way of thanking her for walking her to the art room.

Dakota scanned over the top layer of papers, sprawled all over a desk, even the floor, and half smiled when she found hers. She held it gently in her hand, careful not to damage the work art she had been working on for the past week. As she made her way to a seat, her eyes glances over at patients she passed. She was probably one of the only medium risk patients in the room, she knew, but then again she hadn't talked to anyone in the few months she had been here. As soon as she found a seat she began painting. The painting was simply, if not something a child could make, but Dakota liked it. She knew it could have looked better but she had spent enough time beating herself up about it a few days ago. The background was simply black, with tiny speckles of white paint all across the top, portraying stars. Near what seemed to be a lake was a girl, tiny with brown hair blowing with the wind, sitting, holding her knees. Above her stood a taller, skinnier woman. Just by looking at the picture you could sense the second woman's confidence. She seemed to be taunting the first girl, teasing her, telling her she wasn't good enough. good enough...

Dakota quickly snapped out of her daze and popped her fingers. An annoying, nasty sounds, but she couldn't help it. She scanned her area and let out a small sigh. She couldn't find the paint she needed. The girl, however, was not going to let her painting be anything less than perfect, even if it meant talking to a stranger. She wasn't anti social, she was actually pretty friendly but after months of being alone, feeling alone she had grown shy. She ignored her feeling and slowly made herself to the nearest person, a boy. She bit her lip as she was about to speak, and was interrupted by her. 'Are you really going to ask him for his paint? Can't you do anything for yourself? You're so fucking needy, seriously...' Was she? No, Dakota couldn't think of that now and she spoke before she had time to come up for more insults. "Uhh.. Hey, could I borrow your..." She slowly stopped. As soon as she noticed the boy was bleeding she bit her lip. Dakota was about to go into doctor mode. She quickly took a wrap she kept in her back pocket, just in case, and handed it to his good hand. "Wrap it around and make sure it's tight. Just not tight to the point that it cuts off your circulation." She said quietly, making sure no nurses heard. If the boy was in here for self harm, she surely didn't want him to get in trouble, not while she was there.

Wordcount: 652
tags: Ollie
comments: hola :3
Lyrics: Poem Song by Polly Scattergood
Muse- Maps by The Yeah Yeah Yeahs

[LORENZO OLLIE SHAW]

Y O U R P I C T U R E I S W O R T H
1000 lies

Being convicted of sexual assault and murder does something to an individual. The convicted goes into a state of mind where the world is made out of two types of people, people that are like that of themselves, and people that deserve to be punished. That was what went through Ollie’s mind since being here. There were those people that were wronged like him, and there were those who got away with their crimes and made fun of him. But it was hard to tell who was who in the asylum. As the blood started to pool out and around the deep gash in his hand he heard a voice. The boy didn’t like that he hadn’t heard the voice before, but Oliver took their advice never the less. The advice was one that he already knew –his mother telling his little sister to put pressure on her bite wound- and he took the wrap without a second glance. Acting like nothing was wrong he smiled at the girl; she was skinny –too skinny- and this made Ollie feel happy. This girl was the first character he found to be like him; obviously not like him in the way of bathing in blood and eating little boy’s hearts but she was suffering. “ Thank you for not telling on me miss. But I guess it is better for you that you didn’t. My name is Mr. Lorenzo-Ollie Shaw but you can call me Ollie everyone that I like does. What’s you name?” he asked in a childish voice. His voice had never dropped and from just hearing alone a victim would think that he was innocent, small helpless but that was not the case. After looking her over, dark hair falling over shoulders that were just beyond bones Ollie kissed the hand that was bleeding through the bandage. The taste of blood made Ollie perk up, it was like a little shot of caffeine to the boy, and he had been going through withdrawals since coming here. With this new sudden burst of energy Ollie examined his surroundings again. It was like the boy had two separate personalities, one fed on blood, and the other fed on childish means.

The nurse was coming over to complete her rounds so Ollie had to be quick with hiding the bandage… so he stuck it under his bottom. There would still be pressure lying down on the wound, but the nurse would only suspect that Oliver was a Looney and that fact made Ollie smile again. It was all a game, all a game, just a childish game that he played with the nurses. The lady over passed them without even noticing the random blood spatter on the table, but that probably was because of the red paint he was using. “Oh… did you need something from me, I could see you arguing with yourself in your head before and I was just wondering what that was about” he asked while cocking his head to the side. Ollie had a knack for seeing people talking to themselves, what expressions were different etc. most people hated it, but he again made a game for it. It was interesting seeing his victims talking to themselves while he was hurting them; it gave him a sick pleasure. And it would only be a matter of time before this girl found out what sort of man he was.

Wordcount: 603
tags: Dakota
comments: hia
Muse: Creep – Radiohead [/size][/b]

[DAKOTA ALIS MIDDLETON]

Black and blue my petals fall on broken glass.

Teach me how to love and to forget the past.
[/center]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"First your father hated you, now you're mother hates you? You life freaking sucks!" The cold words, along with a siren-like laughter, resurfaced in Dakota's head as she tried to focus on the boy. She hadn't said that to Dakota since she had arrived at Aldridge Resort. 'Some kind of resort', she thought after her mother brought her for the first time. She didn't object as first. She knew she was sick and she needed help, but when she noticed all the other patients running around, she regretted her decision to stay. Now, she had no idea why she was here. Yes, she was skinny, but it was only because of her college classes, which caused her too much stress. Yes, she looked down on herself, but it made her work harder. Yes, she wanted her dad to love her, but what daughter didn't? Her first night in the resort she cried herself to sleep. Not because she was lonely or scared of the other patients, but because she secretly knew she was sick and she needed to be here. That night was three months ago and within the months, Dakota had made little progress. She gained weight and lost weight, alienated herself from the other patients, and her denial of her sicknesses had stopped, but she didn't let it show. Now, in front of a bleeding boy, she stuttered when she tried to speak. Her doctor-like approach to him had disappeared and she stood there, wondering if she looked as stupid as she felt.

As he spoke she smiled. She hadn't come out to attack her, to render her speechless and make her confidence disappear as quickly as it had appeared. Before she had the chance, Dakota spoke. "Uhh... Hey... I'm Dakota, Dakota Middleton, but you can call me.. Err... Whatever you want... Nice to meet you, Ollie." She extended her hand towards Ollie, offering him a handshake, for his good hand. Although it might seem strange, the littlest forms of interaction, such as hand shakes or greeting someone, brought joy to her. Honestly, the girl had not been touched in any form of affection in years. Her break up with her first boyfriend, Solomon in addition to her fathers neglect had added more distrust and distorted self image to the tiny girl. Sex was completely non existent and out of the question since the break up, so she settled for the small things. When Ollie spoke again, she felt her pale face blush from embarrassment. Was it that obvious? If so, she was succeeding at making her look crazy. That's all she wanted. To ruin her life, in Dakota's eyes, but make her perfect, in her eyes. "It's true. Your life was nothing before me. I'm just here to help. Everyone..." Dakota blocked out the rest of her voice and smiled nervously to Ollie. "Oh, I uhh... It was nothing. My leg was asleep so I tried waking it up, and I kind of got nervous when I saw that you were bleeding." She lied, yes, but it was for her own good. She hadn't had any human interaction besides with a therapist or doctor since she arrived and she wasn't going to let it end, because of some paint. "...Everyone thinks I'm the bad guy. I'm just here to help."

Wordcount: 593
tags: Ollie
comments: blahh. Sorry if it sucks xP
Lyrics: Poem Song by Polly Scattergood
Muse: On Directing by Tegan and Sara

[LORENZO OLLIE SHAW]

Y O U R P I C T U R E I S W O R T H
1000 lies

Dakota had always been one of the boy’s favourite names, he had the ambition to call his son or daughter by that name in the past, but now that he was in this place, labelled as a dangerous offender that dream was more than abolished. Ollie had never had a successful relationship in the past, from what he could remember –which wasn’t much- the only friendly relationship this teen has had ended in a body bag at the city morgue. Ollie hated love, he hated that humanity worked only in black and white, love or hate, and no one could love him. ”How about I call you flowers? More feminine then Dakota” Ollie asked, he didn’t want to think about the child he would never have whenever she was in the room. It didn’t matter what she said he was going to call her that either way. ”it’s nice to meet you too. You don’t look like the rest of us…” he continued referring to the high, and medium risk patients in the room while looking at her thin body ”but you don’t act like the nurses so you can have a seat if you want."

Feeling all eyes on different sections of the room Oliver took his bloody hand out from under him and frowned at the fact that he was no longer bleeding heavily. The pressure had immobilized the blood in his hand and now all there was left as proof that he had been bleeding was the gauze wrappings. Frowning slightly the boy tried to taste the sweet liquid in his mind. There was no better taste in the world than his own blood, and no one could take that from him. Ollie unwrapped the wound and looked at the long slit; it looked angry, thin with dark crimson clinging to the edges of skin. ”thanks a lot for the medical attention; you know you just can’t trust people these days. If they see you doing anything wrong at all, they will throw you in the box. But anyways… other than your medical expertise, what are you in here for? Flowers?” the boy asked, he hated silence, it bothered him to no extent and while he waited for her answer he picked up the pieces of foam board and placed them together in the positions that were required for his sculpture. The way the figure was arranged it looked like a helpless maimed man calling out to a dead loved one, and painted all along its form was the story of a hunted wolf. Ollie only looked at it, taking a slight glance and then glued it together with superglue. Originally Ollie had signed up for making sculptures with clay but the flimsy foam worked wonders for the strange boy.

Wordcount: 477
tags: Dakota
comments: ****
Muse: The People’s Elbow- Attack Attack! [/size][/b]

[DAKOTA ALIS MIDDLETON]

Black and blue my petals fall on broken glass.

Teach me how to love and to forget the past.
[/center]

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dakota nodded slightly. Although she never really questioned her parent's name choice, she did think 'Flowers' was more feminine then Dakota. Even her sister, who was a tomboy, athlete who dressed far more masculine then Dakota, had a more feminine name. Giselle. It upset her, that fact that she did so good in school, but she couldn't compete with her younger sister. Giselle had always struggled in school, not because of some learning disability or because her didn't understand it. She just wasn't interested in it. Dakota spent countless hours helping her younger sister with homework, in order to pass her classes, but whether sh did or not, her father was pleased. If Giselle got a failing grade he simply said "Just try a little harder, Gizzy. You'll do better next time", followed by a pat on the back and kiss on the forehead. Whenever Dakota received less then a B+, not only did she beat herself up, but her father did as well. Not physically but it hurt her just as bad. "What is wrong, Dakota? You need to focus! We did not come to America, your mother and I, just to see you get less then perfect grades!". Dakota usually cried herself to sleep and went to bed hungry. Not only hungry for food, but hungry for his affection. Now, with Ollie, in an insane asylum, a nick name was probably one of the ways she could get affection. She smiled nervously, worried that she was thinking back on her memories a little too long and spoke. "Flowers, it is then."

Suddenly after Ollie offered her a seat, Dakota felt light headed. With one hand she grabbed the chair, slowly sitting herself down, and with the other hand she clenched her forehead. "Thanks.." she said, quietly. The sudden head rush caused her to become very disoriented but she tried as hard as she could to look as if she was fine. The head rush was far more intense then any other one she's felt and the urge to fall down and pass out worried her. She wondered what had caused it, but almost nothing came to her mind. The only thing she was sure that might have caused her to almost feel that was was her hunger. "Don't be a baby. So what if your hungry? You don't NEED food. You don't eat it. It eats you." Her words confused Dakota, but like the obedient girl she was, she didn't respond. It would've ended up causing her more grief, something she didn't need at all. As Ollie spoke, the disorientation went away as soon as it appeared. She would have to have a chat with one of the nurses about a massive head rush related to anorexia. "Oh, it's fine. I'm glad to help." She said regaining her small, timid smile. She agreed, you couldn't trust anyone these days and the simplest things would get you in trouble. Before passing out in her dorm room, Dakota had no problem with her weight and she was frustrated that the moment she fucked up once, she would get in trouble. Oh well. She was used to it.

"Oh, uh, well..." She said, thinking back to her newly found disorders and diagnoses by her psychiatrists. Dakota was unsure whether to tell the boy the truth or lie again. Her story wasn't that dad. It actually could be summarized pretty quickly, so she spoke after a brief moment of silence. "Well, as you can see," She said pointing down towards her small, far too skinny body. "I'm anorexic. I fainted in my dorm, while I was away at college, and my mother, who's a nurse, got very concerned and with her connections, got me in here. I apparently have several other things wrong with me, but I don't really see anything wrong with me." Dakota bit her lip after she stopped speaking. She was unsure whether that was "too much" information but whether it was or not, she was going to give her hell for it. "Nice. Now he probably thinks you're some sort of freak, but it's fine. You don't need anyone. Anyone, except me." Quickly, trying to drown her out, she spoke, slightly anxious, "What about you? Why are you in here?" She tried not to come off too brash but was unsure if she failed. As she looked down, she noticed his sculpture. She was now sure, her simple painting looked.. crappy. "Dude," A word she rarely ever has said. "That looks amazing." Yes, Dakota was a medical student, with barely any art skill at all, but she knew a good painting, drawing, or sculpture when she saw one.

Wordcount: 914 w/o tags
tags: Ollie
comments:
Lyrics: Poem Song by Polly Scattergood
Muse: I'm Not The Latest Style by Sleepyhead

[LORENZO OLLIE SHAW]

Y O U R P I C T U R E I S W O R T H
1000 lies

Withering, a withering daisy that is what Ollie saw in her. A flower that had not been given enough light and water to bloom, and not enough room to grow. He disliked very much that he was in the same class as a miserable anorexic that knew nothing of loneliness and death, but he put his feelings aside for this moment. He had pushed all others away and this was the first friendly face that he had spoken with in a long time. He wished not to sate his craving for blood by taking hers, and enjoyed the kindness that she had given him. This place was his home now, and aside from the screaming and crying low risk patients there were some very bad people in the mix. Ollie watched her as she took the seat he offered to her and noticed that she was acting strangely. Blood rushing to the head, burning, and spinning. The lack of nutrition was the cause of this, but there was nothing that could be done, in his experience –when not killing them- ani’s had to find a way out on their own so Ollie ignored the side effect to her condition. The brunette thought about his time on the streets, it was surprising that he had not lost the will to find food, becoming this thing that Dakota is, he never thought that he wasn’t worth sustenance and that’s why when people denied him the sustenance to live, and go on in life he dealt with them and their families so viciously. He already knew what she was in the asylum for, but he was far more interested in her other conditions. He could see that there were mental conditions dealing with how she saw herself that put her here, but why this place? Why did her mother put her into an asylum and not an anorexic clinic? That was strange to the boy. The entire low risk class was strange.

When she asked the question about why he was in the resort Oliver braised himself for her to freak out, runaway, and cry. It only took a couple seconds; he was used to it, even the therapists were afraid to have to deal with someone who could snap on cue.Thank you, I'm not too pleased about it, there is something wrong with the colour, it’s not like an actual cardinal. This red is more like poppy.” he said before clearing his throat and breaking his view from the sculpture.

”Well flowers I want to remind you that you asked this question for you might not like the answer I give you. I killed people. Lots of people, since I was very young. My parents left me after I did something very bad and I can’t even remember what, but they made me something worse. On the streets I would lure people to me and then kill them just because. But after tracking them down killing them, torturing them, I would eat them. They tasted so good, and the blood that’s why I do it, I love blood, the smell, the taste, the sound it makes while it’s oozing out from a gash in the neck. That’s why I'm here. And that’s why I wear this” he answered while opening his mouth and showing her that metal clamps over his teeth. ”their all scared of me, but I'm not dangerous to people that I like, and guess what flowers I never give nicknames to people I trust and like, I think” he continued, he wanted to reassure that he wasn’t going to hurt her. Silence in these days was horrible.

Word count: 642
Tags: DAKOTA MIDDLETON
Comments: none
Muse: Hawk Nelson[/size][/b]