For most, turning 18 is the happiest moment in a young girl's life, but for me it's just another day closer to death. The truth is I am probably being poisoned or administered a large dose of crushed crazy pills by ladies in white nightgowns. I really don't know much about anything and have never even seen anything past my locked bedroom door.
My bedroom could very well be my prison, since I am kept away from everyone else and am refrained from speaking to anyone. If it weren't for the small window above my bedroom, I would never even see the light of day.
The little bit of light that shines in my bedroom usually is painful to withstand, but it's my only connection to the outside world. One day I hope to get as far from this place as possible.
I would love to leave behind the sound the screaming patients and the cries of the deranged individuals being ignored... Oh God! That awful alarm that makes sure I wake up every morning has just rang. I guess it's time to start my day once again.
My morning usually begins by having someone forcing me to swallow my medicine and then being over clouded by a horrible, nauseating feeling. After vomiting my guts out and the entire piece of stale bread I am served each morning I am dragged into a dim lit bathroom and washed with ice cold water. As the ice cold water hits my skin I always feel a surge of pain which used to make me scream, but now only helps me to detach myself from my body. Although I don't mind the cold showers anymore and the red blotches on my skin that form from the coldness of the water, I honestly see no point in bathing since the entire building usually smells of death and antiseptics.
After my bath I am placed in a tight torture device that serves no other purpose than to make sure I take short breaths. After being dressed, my dark hair is always trimmed, so that it never gets too long. Although, lately I feel as though my hair is used to supply the sick infatuation that a short haired nurse seems to have. After all that, I tend to fall asleep only to wake up to the raving madness of those outside my bedroom. I have been in this asylum since I was born and as my mother before me, I will probably die here.
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Beffiting a Queen
FantasyI was born into a cruel world that had no room for sympathy. My childhood consisted of the wailing screams of the insane and tormented. I constantly had to bare witness the pain and suffering of my mother. After my mother's death I vowed to take ven...
