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I sit in the corner of my completely white room. Long, white sleeves restrain my arms to the wall for fear of hurting myself or the other patients. My head dangles lifelessly to the side, and the black streaks from old tears become visible. My day's were always busy with being locked up in this cold, white room completely alone, except for the dark mass of insanity hiding in the corner, waiting to makes it's move. The occasional disgusting meal in the afternoon gives us a chance to be free from our confined rooms. Of course it never lasts very long, and we're back in our blank walled cages, restrained to a wall.
As you sit there for hours on end, your mind starts to wander. You wonder what genius came up with this horrible way of curing insanity, but you analyze it at the same time. Like maybe that guy thought that if you lock up someone for a long time, they start to think about what they've done. Kind of like what your parents are doing when they say, "Now go to your room, and think about what you've done!" Difference being that you're stuck in your actual room at your house, instead of in some shitty mental hospital! Either way, everyone's thoughts are different, like one guy's thinking about good food, and another is thinking about their families. But no matter how different everyone one's thoughts are, one thought crosses their mind as you sit in your tiny space, "I shouldn't be here...I'm innocent...Why am I here?" That same ******** thought crosses my mind every damn day of my horrible, miserable, damned to hell life!
My life's always been a piece of s**t, and it always gets worse as it goes on. First off, I hate my name...my name's Charlie Cats. Charlie is not a very good name for a fifteen year old girl! Though I normally go by Meow. I never liked my last name, so instead of Cats, I went with Meow. At school, I was the creepy goth with no friends. I was picked on because I had pale white skin, and long black hair, and the wardrobe of an emo person. Maybe it was the fact that I wrote poems, drew pictures, and liked certain bands too much, but that was what a normal kid was like. According to everyone...it wasn't.
- by XxZombie PuppetxX |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 09/12/2009 |
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- Title: Asylum
- Artist: XxZombie PuppetxX
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Description:
You're sitting in your holding cell, thinking the same thought as everyone else.."I'm innocent...Why am I here?" Your arms are restrained to the wall, and lurking in the corner is the the black mass of insanity waiting for it's chance to destroy you.
Alright, this is a story I made up after watching numerous ghost shows that took place in asylums. Please comment! I beg of you! - Date: 09/12/2009
- Tags: asylum
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Comments (1 Comments)
- M1dn1ght_Black - 10/09/2009
- Mabey next time u shouldn't cuss so much it was good but have u been in a mental hospital or were just thinking that it would be that way?
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