Normal is Overrated, tag- Isabella

[Max Iver]

Venturing into Owen's campus in the early hours was asking for trouble. Which is why Max Iver was out in the wee early light of dawn, chilling in his Father's classroom. Okay, and maybe he was acting into the gradebook for some of this friends but that was nothing new. The young artist skillfully typed in the password, and found himself staring at rows after rows of grades. He went down them, changing the ones of his friends. he only changed them by a few points up, otherwise it would be too noticable. Still, every little bit helped. After he was done hacking, he ventured into the other folders his Dad had on the computer. Most of them were boring, and only contained information about books.
The one of interest to Max though was the one labeled Max. He found it interesting for obvious reason. Inside, he found what seemed to be his life story. It seemed as though his Dad kept track of his grades, and what he did during the day. Max found the whole thing quite disturbing. He was thinking if he should delete the files, or if he should download a nasty virius when he heard movement. Quickly, he logged off the computer and grabbed the nearest book. the book was MacBeth, something he had read years ago, but it was a book none the less. He opened to the toil and trouble scene as the door to the room opened.

[Isabella Crosroad]

Isabella walked down the hall humming loudly to herself. It was still too early for anyone else to be walking around the school and she was quite happy with that. It had surprised Isabella that it was so easy to get past the guards at the front doors but then again if it wasn’t for Ms. Kiki then she would have never noticed the open window at the side of the building. Isabella laughed out loud as she twirled herself and the porcelain doll in the middle of the hallway. “Do you know what we’re reading in English right now, Ms. Kiki?” A large smile crossed her face as she heard her friend’s reply. “You don’t!” She laughed “Why silly, we’re reading Macbeth! You always liked that play! Double, double toil and trouble…Hahaha!” Isabella’s laughter ran throughout the halls as she danced down its length. So far school hadn’t been that bad. She had gotten in trouble repeatedly for not wearing the uniform but she really didn’t care. The uniform was ugly and plain, Isabella couldn’t see why anyone would ever want to wear that thing anyways. Laughing again to a joke that only she could hear, Isabella past an opened door and stopped, being the curious she is Isabella poked her head into the room and looked around. Once her whole body was in the room, Isabella walked along the walls reading everything that was on them not realizing that there was another person in the room.

[Max Iver]

Max relaxed when he realized who it was. Isabella was in several of his art classes, and he had read her school records when she had just started. He knew she had schizophernia, and he knew she probably had no clue he was even in the room if she hadn't noticed him by now. Most of her record had been left unread, simply because of the fact Max couldn't deal with it. Her story was horrible from what he skimmed, and he didn't want to go in depth with it.
Max watched her move around the room, and mused about what was going on in her mind. She had her usual doll with her, something he was use to by now. After several moments of silence, Max called out quietly to her. He didn't want to scare her, but it had to be done. "Good morning Isabella. Why aren't you in bed sleeping?"

[Isabella Crosroad]

Isabella wiped around at the sound of some else in the room. Glancing around, her eyes rested upon a young man that she was slightly familiar with only because she could remember seeing him in some of her classes. Isabella stared at him with wondering eyes, after a good minute or so, she turned to Ms. Kiki and raised an eyebrow at her little friend, “Thanks for telling me he was in here.” She said sarcastically while turning her attention back to the boy in the room. Playing with the hem of her dress, Isabella gave the boy a sheepish looked and answered his question with a question, “Why are you not asleep in bed?” Her voice was soft and child like but still had some sort of grown up tone to it. As she waited for an answer, Isabella couldn’t help but stare at the boy, he was cute but that doesn’t mean anything. Just because the boy had looks didn’t mean he wouldn’t hurt her like the others did. While studying him, Isabella started to laugh quietly soon her laughter began to grow to the point where she had to put a hand over her month so that it wasn’t so loud. “That’s really funny Ms. Kiki but you are right.” Looking back over to the boy, Isabella walked over and stood in front of him, with a quizzical expression she asked the same thing Ms. Kiki had asked her, “How do you know my name and I don’t know yours?”

[Max Iver]

Thankfully, Max hadn't scared her. Her first question threw him off track, for he hadn't really been expecting that. He wasn't quite sure what he thought the answer to his question would be, but he hadn't been expecting it thrown back into his face. As he pondered his answer, Isabella started laughing. He decided he was off the hook, as she seemed to have forgotten about the bed question. However, when the next question came out of her mouth he suddenly wished they were back at the bed question.
Max quickly decided how he should word his answer. "Well, you see, I have been coming here since I was a Freshman. So I pretty much notice when a new student joins, especially in art. And I like knowing who everyone is, so I pick up on their names quickly." There, it sounded good enough for him. "My name is Max Iver, and I'm in art." He offered Isabella his hand, determined that he would not treat her different then any other person in the school.
The meeting was going rather well, at least Max thought so. "So, now that we know each other's names, why don't you introduce me to your friend," He said, gesturing to the doll in her arms.

[Isabella Crosroad]

Isabella blinked a couple times while looking from Max’s face to his hand one ever really liked to shake her hand. Reaching out she allowed herself to hold his hand for only a brief second before dropping it. Max’s next comment shocked Isabella even more; he wanted to meet Ms. Kiki. Shuffling from one foot to any other, Isabella held Ms. Kiki out in front of her and held up her head, “This is Ms. Kiki. She’s says that it’s a pleasure to meet you and that she thinks your funny and cute.” Isabella said sheepishly. She never liked having to talk for Ms. Kiki. Some of the things her friend would say didn’t settle right in her mind. After all Ms. Kiki had been the one to get her into trouble with lighting her mother’s home on fire when she was younger and then having her be placed into the mental ward of the hospital. Pulling Ms. Kiki back to her chest, Isabella looked down at the floor and then realized something. Looking back up at Max with her eyebrows knit together, she said “You never did answer my question. Why are you not in bed?” Isabella knew how some people looked and thought of her, she also knew that many of them thought that because her mind very stayed in one place for too long that she never noticed whether or not they answered her question. But she did she always did, Isabella just never really cared to ask the question again what was the point if they didn’t tell you the first time. But she wanted an answer from Max for some reason and she just could figure out way, all she knew was that the best thing was to simply ask the question again so that the echoes in her head would stop.

[Max Iver]

"Nice to meet you too, Ms. Kiki," Max replied, nodding in the dolls direction. He hoped he was doing the right thing by treating the doll like Isabella did. Then the question about why he wasn't in bed rresurfed, and Max held in a groan. There was no escaping it, this girl obviously wanted to know the answer. "Well, you see, I am not in bed because I had homework to do," He said, figuring hacking into his Dads computer counted as homework in a weird sort of way.
"Mr. Iver is my Dad. This is his classroom. You probably have him for a English class, maybe?" Max knew there was a 50 percent chance that the girl had his Dad. AFter all, there were only two English teachers. "Having your Dad being a teacher at your school is weird, if you know what I mean."
Max decided talking to Isabella like she was a teenager was the best way to go about things. After all, she was his age and she had to understand what kids their age go through to some level. Of course, she had been through more drama then most people ever experience.

[Isabella Crosroad]

Isabella tilted her head and thought about who her teachers were. After a minute she snapped her fingers and giggled, “Your right, your dad is my teacher. He’s really nice, nicer then my tutors back home.” Looking around Isabella looked out the window to see the sun shining through. Looking by over to Max, she shifted Ms. Kiki from on hand to the other and then turned her attention to her hands. “No… that’s a very rude question to ask.” She scolded her friend, her eyebrow knit together in a dishearten fashion. Isabella shook her head again and placed Ms. Kiki on the desk next to her. It felt weird not having the doll in her lap. Ever since she came to Owen’s her friend hadn’t left her hands, even when she would paint, Isabella would simply use her mouth to hold things. “Max, can I ask you, how did you became…ummm…in…interested in art?” Isabella asked after having to search for the words she wanted to use. It was odd, usually Isabella’s mind would be loud and swirling with vision and voices but for once there was silence and in that silence she seemed to have forgotten how to talk to someone. For once the cold and cruel voice of Ms. Kiki wasn’t telling Isabella what to say or do, she was her own person and for that brief moment of silence, Isabella felt sane, she felt human. Looking over at Max, she gave him a light knowing smile, her eyes clear of all madness but sadly sanity of that sort only last for so long and before Isabella could say anything, the fairies and the voices came back. The dancing and the screaming had returned and the real Isabella, the quiet and peaceful Isabella was forced back into her corner in order to hide from the chaos that consumed her mind.

[Max Iver]

Already Max had determined that conversation with Isabella would be slightly broken up, for she seemed to have to sort things out with her doll before she could talk to Max. When she placed her doll upon a desk, Max felt proud on her sake. He had never seen the girl without the doll in her hands. Thankfully, the question she asked was a simple one that he didn't need to lie about the answer this time.
"Well, my art is a bit different then the kind most create at Owens. I am into graphic design. When I was a preschooler, I discovered Paint of the computer and as I got older I got better and better at making creations. I started using Photoshop and other programs when I was about ten, so that's what I still do now." The answer was the short version, he left out alot of the small details, such as the fact he was on computers at the age of three because he refused to go to school.
Max pulled out a black sketch book that was falling apart from his bag. "Before I make my graphics on the computer though, I do sketch them out sometimes. Their not very good, but their just rough copies." He couldn't show her his usual artwork, for he didn't have his laptop on him. "What about you?"

[Isabella Crosroad]

Isabella played with her hair and let her legs swing back and forth. Turning her head over to Ms. Kiki, her hand twitch in anticipation, Ms. Kiki was tell her to pick her up but Isabella didn’t feel like it. For once she felt as if she didn’t need the doll, she could speak for herself. Allowing her attention to turn back to Max, Isabella smile and shrugged her shoulders, “My daddy’s a really good artist back home. He taught me everything I know about painting, he even tried to teach me how to sculpt but that didn’t end very well.” She giggled at the last part remembering the time when her father had thought the sculpting art would be good for his daughter. The maids were still finding pieces of clay in the house. “What kind of things do you make on the computer?” She asked truly interested in the way Max expressed himself. “My old teachers didn’t like my paintings they said that they weren’t happy enough, but I always asked them what the point of painting something happy was if you didn’t ever really see anything happy about the world.” Isabella studied Max she knew that by saying this, whatever he did would tell her what kind of person he was, just like Ms. Kiki had told her before once a person knows how you see the world they will either stick with you or they’ll run away. For Isabella they mostly ran away, that’s why her life was a three person show. The only people she had were herself, her father and Ms. Kiki and in Isabella’s shadowed mind that was all she needed but the small amount of sanity that cradled itself in the back of her mind always told her when Ms. Kiki went to sleep that there was so much more out in the world just waiting for her.

[Max Iver]

"Up until I started at Owen, I basically just messed around," Max started to explain as he flipped around in his book for a certain sketch. "Ever since I've started here though, I have started making graphics for CD covers, and recently advertisments." He finally found the sketch he made for an Ipod ad. "This is the sketch I used to make an advertisment for Ipod Nano. It appeared in a magazine not too long ago. You know those commercials done with graphics in the background? I'm suppose to learn to do those this year."
Max's approach was different then most art students, but he didn't mind. The only problem he had with this is that deadlines often took the creative process out of it. Sometimes graphics had to be produced a certain way, and if they weren't his artwork was nothing.
When Isabella repeated what her old teachers said, Max winced. "That right there is a shame. Artwork is suppose to be a way to express yourself, no matter how happy or sad you are. Most of the famous artists suffered from some form of depression. Just think about how many famous paintings you have seen that are colorful. Most used shades of blue and gray." He wondered how her teachers could be so uneducated in that area. Why, he knew about tone colors and what they represent since he was six. "You will not hear any art teachers telling you how your art should look here."

[Isabella Crosroad]

Isabella silently nodded her head. She understood somewhat, what Max was saying but not entirely. “My daddy never really lets me go on the computer; he thinks that I could get into a lot of trouble if I go on.” Isabella said while her eyes followed the invisible creatures that were flying around Max’s head. The wings glittered in the morning sun as they circled and twirled. It almost appears as if they were on fire, the bright red and orange colors that came off of them. Shrugging her shoulders Isabella looked away from the fairies and looked down at her hands. Max was the first person to actually talk to her and she felt slightly out of place. Glancing back up at Max’s face a small smile spread across her face when one of her fire fairies landed of Max’s head. Giggling Isabella pointed at Max’s head and commented, “Not to be rude but you have something on your head.” The sanity that Isabella had possessed a few moments ago was completely gone and her child like attitude had returned.

[Max Iver]

"Yes, the internet can be a very bad place," Max admitted, knowing that the world wide web had all sorts of sites the childlike girl could wander onto. Then again, even he used the internet and his computer for evil rather then good when he hacked into the school system. He tried to push this little tidbit to the back of his head, telling himself that he wasn't a bad person. He just had excellent computer skills that he liked to use.

Whatever maturity had grown on Isabella's face was know gone. Suddenly, the sixteen year old girl was suddenly a child again. The feeling that he had to tiptoe around her grew strong again. "What, may I ask, is on my head Isa?" Max asked, praying the girl wasn't seeing some sort of demon around him or something.

[Isabella Crosroad]

Isabella cocked her head to the side and stated as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, “Why, a fairy silly!” She giggled while standing up and walking over to Max. Reaching over him, Isabella waved her hand over the top of his head. In her mind she was swatting the mischievous creature off of his head rather anything else. Once the fairy use gone, Isabella pulled away from Max and took a few steps back. “Sorry, he was starting to bother me.” She apologized as she looked down at her hands. Isabella wanted to say more, she wanted to tell Max all of the mean things that the fairy and Ms. Kiki were saying about him. They kept saying that he thought she was a freak and that he was no good. As well as that he was lying to her but why would he what would Max have to hide from Isabella. It’s not like she would ever say anything to anyone. Shaking her head, Isabella tried to get the voice to stop, they were just so loud. ‘He’s nothing, you know. Have him around you will only hurt you.’ A soft voice whispered to Isabella. ‘He’ll hurt you like all the rest; leave you all alone when you need him the most. The only people you can trust are those that are always with you. WE are ALWAYS with YOU, Isabella. WE will NEVER leave you.’ The voice had gone from a whisper to a horrible screech. Its sound seemed to scratch at the interior of her mind. Throwing her hands to her ears, Isabella shook her head back and forth. A small squeak came from her throat as she begged the voices to stop, “Please, stop just stop…”

[Max Iver]

Whatever glimpse of sanity Max had saw was gone. Next thing he knew, she looked like she was debating against something unseen. And then the rocking started. Max scooted backwards in the chair, mind racing about what to do. Calling someone was out of question, he wasn't suppose to be here yet! The only thing he could think of to do was talk to Isabella, and if that didn't work, drag her to the nurse.
"Isa, what needs to stop?" Max asked gently, but firmly. "Please tell me. Maybe I will know how to make it stop." He knew a lie when he said one, and as soon as it left his lips he felt bad. There was nothing he could do to make whatever battle Isa was dealing with to halt.