For a while now I have been writing a story, set a long while back when mental illness was not quite understood. It's about a schizophrenic who has found himself in a mental hospital and his illness distorts the world he is in. Trapped and trying to find a way out, a visual manifestation of his inner thoughts and subconscious talks to him and helps him around the place, while making him more and more paranoid and scared.
I have included here a short exert from the story, and if you want to read all that ive done so far, just go here and start from there. Enjoy!
Oh, and beware. There is blood. *creepy smile*
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Day 9
God, they won't stop screaming! Some of the other prisoners here are rubber-necking around, looking in the room opposite mine. I don't like the crowd. The person inside is screaming because the men in white coats are in there too. They're handling and beating the prisoner, just like they do to me. They still come in often, to poke me and prod me like I'm some sort of a dead beast. Except I don't make a scene. This prisoner is. I guess that's why there's so many others standing and watching, wanting to get a good look at the blood splatter, maybe be sprayed with some of the warm liquid.
I would like to see what's going on, but the glass window on my door is all blurry, they don't want me to see what's happening out there. I can't get distracted anyway, even if I could see. I need to stay with Him; I need to make sure I'm here when He awakes.
Oh, He is so close. I tried to match the screaming from the other room, but He didn't hear. He didn't even stir. I've stopped eating, too, completely stopped eating my food and drinking my drink. They couldn't have drugged me now, and they haven't been in to stab me in a long time. I also haven't slept. They can't do anything to me in my sleep if I don't sleep.
It's been a long day.
- - -
Hmm, so this screaming person proved to be very useful, eventually making enough of a scene to lure the white coats out of my room. And they left the door open. I think the screamer's dead now, since I can hear the silence again. As I walked out of my room I saw them, the white men all huddled around the screamer. It was scary – the freakiest thing I've ever seen them do to anyone else. They were crowded around, on all fours, their legs bent in unnatural directions and they were feeding, their heads buried in the screamer, poking up every so often to slurp down a part of intestines or something. I had to go back to my room; I vomited. I panicked and tried to wake Him up, but He's still out, so I grabbed His arms and dragged Him.
I managed to come across some sort of common room. It had chairs and those drips everywhere, attached to some people sitting in the chairs. Some of them have started to decompose – I think this is where they come to die. Their faces were drooping and I could hear the groans and spitting and those sorts of screams where no voice comes out – just desperate air pleading to be killed. There were some of the men in white coats behind counters in other rooms, standing behind a thick pane of glass. They just stood, staring blankly at each other, probably thinking the same dreadful thoughts.
He started thrashing and biting, so I dragged Him under some table near the wall where the cloth that laid over it drooped down to the cold floor. Hopefully no one saw the racket or heard all the noise.
I'm just waiting under here until everyone leaves. Maybe I can find some way to escape this hell hole. Or explore it.
There's some pattern on the table cloth, just hanging over the edge at the corner that I can see through. It's just enough for me to see most of the room without being seen. I watched the white coated creatures dragging out a body into the common room, pulling it by their teeth. They clawed at it and ripped off its limbs – whatever was left of them anyway. I can still see the pool of blood, all clotted and splashed in all directions. And there's the trail where they dragged the screamer to the counter - where the white man behind the glass stands - and shoved the mangled body through the window slot. I could hear it snap and crunch as the full sized body was crammed into a hole that could only just fit a hand. It was strangely soothing.
God, they won't stop screaming! Some of the other prisoners here are rubber-necking around, looking in the room opposite mine. I don't like the crowd. The person inside is screaming because the men in white coats are in there too. They're handling and beating the prisoner, just like they do to me. They still come in often, to poke me and prod me like I'm some sort of a dead beast. Except I don't make a scene. This prisoner is. I guess that's why there's so many others standing and watching, wanting to get a good look at the blood splatter, maybe be sprayed with some of the warm liquid.
I would like to see what's going on, but the glass window on my door is all blurry, they don't want me to see what's happening out there. I can't get distracted anyway, even if I could see. I need to stay with Him; I need to make sure I'm here when He awakes.
Oh, He is so close. I tried to match the screaming from the other room, but He didn't hear. He didn't even stir. I've stopped eating, too, completely stopped eating my food and drinking my drink. They couldn't have drugged me now, and they haven't been in to stab me in a long time. I also haven't slept. They can't do anything to me in my sleep if I don't sleep.
It's been a long day.
- - -
Hmm, so this screaming person proved to be very useful, eventually making enough of a scene to lure the white coats out of my room. And they left the door open. I think the screamer's dead now, since I can hear the silence again. As I walked out of my room I saw them, the white men all huddled around the screamer. It was scary – the freakiest thing I've ever seen them do to anyone else. They were crowded around, on all fours, their legs bent in unnatural directions and they were feeding, their heads buried in the screamer, poking up every so often to slurp down a part of intestines or something. I had to go back to my room; I vomited. I panicked and tried to wake Him up, but He's still out, so I grabbed His arms and dragged Him.
I managed to come across some sort of common room. It had chairs and those drips everywhere, attached to some people sitting in the chairs. Some of them have started to decompose – I think this is where they come to die. Their faces were drooping and I could hear the groans and spitting and those sorts of screams where no voice comes out – just desperate air pleading to be killed. There were some of the men in white coats behind counters in other rooms, standing behind a thick pane of glass. They just stood, staring blankly at each other, probably thinking the same dreadful thoughts.
He started thrashing and biting, so I dragged Him under some table near the wall where the cloth that laid over it drooped down to the cold floor. Hopefully no one saw the racket or heard all the noise.
I'm just waiting under here until everyone leaves. Maybe I can find some way to escape this hell hole. Or explore it.
There's some pattern on the table cloth, just hanging over the edge at the corner that I can see through. It's just enough for me to see most of the room without being seen. I watched the white coated creatures dragging out a body into the common room, pulling it by their teeth. They clawed at it and ripped off its limbs – whatever was left of them anyway. I can still see the pool of blood, all clotted and splashed in all directions. And there's the trail where they dragged the screamer to the counter - where the white man behind the glass stands - and shoved the mangled body through the window slot. I could hear it snap and crunch as the full sized body was crammed into a hole that could only just fit a hand. It was strangely soothing.
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I've done more if anyone's interested, and they're all on my website at my DeviantArt gallery.
Signing out,
~Nattoons
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"Scissors cuts paper, paper covers rock, rock crushes lizard,
lizard
poisons Spock, Spock smashes scissors, scissors
decapitates lizard,
lizard eats paper, paper disproves Spock,
Spock vaporizes rock, and as
it always has, rock crushes scissors."
-Sheldon Cooper, Big Bang Theory
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