If you are only JUST entering Hallow’s Eve Asylum, please go to the introduction first. This is a story that should be read in order! Each story is under 1000 words. Please scroll to the bottom to learn more about today’s author and enter a giveaway! -Katy
I bring my legs up as high as they will go and wrap my arms around myself. Huddling in the corner I make myself as small and insignificant as possible.
“He won’t get you. He can’t break in… he can’t break in… can’t… can’t…” I chant to myself over and over. The banging on the other side of the wall never ceases. All day, all night. Sometimes he taunts me through the walls. I know he’s going to dig his way through and tear me to pieces.
“He can’t get in. He can’t… he can’t.”
I’m surrounded by the insane and out of control. I’m terrified of their voices and delusions. Their nightmares ultimately manifest into my own. To one side of me a boy is constantly trying to break through his wall. When he succeeds, he will kill me. I no longer want to die. On the other is a girl who screams out her insanity, robbing me of my own.
“I’m not crazy. I’m just sad. Not crazy.”
They don’t believe me. I tell them this is all a mistake. I was just sad. I missed my sister. I just wanted to be with my sister… to end all the sadness.
I’m not crazy; I’m just sad.
How do I know I’m not insane? Because I’m scared of the voices, the banging, the madness. All of the others? They love it, thrive on it. They need to scream, to bang, to hurt and destroy. The insane are many things, but they aren’t scared.
I’m always scared. Scared of the little pills they force down my throat. Scared of those horrible electroshock treatments, and worse, the treatments they do if those don’t work. I’m scared of the director because in his eyes, I’ll never be fixed enough.
I used to be scared of living without the one person who knew and loved me best. I look down at the scars on my wrists that will always remind me of my greatest failure and mock me from inside this padded cell.
I can hear him now just right outside my door. I’m surprised I can hear anything over the banging, although now the banging has turned to scratching.
“Please, Mr. Drake, please let me go home. I’m not sad anymore. I’m not. I’m sorry for what I’ve done, I just want out. Please let me out.” My pleas as usual fall on deaf ears. I just want out.
The scratching stops, and there is a loud bang on the other side of the wall. I hear a howl and I brace myself, but nothing happens.
“Lord, Katherine, you’ve been in here long enough you are losing your mind,” I whisper to the darkness. With the silence comes fear again. Why is it silent? It’s never silent in this place. I look out the high window that faces the street. I can just make out trick or treaters happily ignorant of my horrors.
“Someone please save me.” I plead as I let the blessed darkness save me. Even in my dreams I’m trapped, but at least my sister is there with me.
Jaci Wheeler lives in the Central Valley of California with her husband and two precious kids.
Her love of literature began in Jr. High when she was introduced to Lowis Lowry’s books. Since then she has had a passion for writing Young Adult books, and creating strong female leads. When she’s not writing she is advocating for Autism Awareness and involved in the deaf community.
Her favorite things to do are play with her children, craft with her friends, sleep while her husband watches movies and indulge in her favorite addictions: Coffee, candy and shoes.