Seer Me Wrong ✔

An Insider's Guide to Hell

They lied to us in church; they said Hell was all fires and burning and death and screams. It's not; it's darkness, and freezing, it's living without freedoms and silence. They got a few things right about it though. It is worse than you can ever imagine. You beg to leave, you pray your heart out but in the end, God just doesn't listen. Maybe he doesn't care. 

There are demons here who love to torture and punish the poor unfortunate souls who happen to wind up here, and there is a ring leader if you will; a devil in disguise. Disguised as a doctor, someone who was sworn to help others is really the one who deals out the most horrendous punishments, he calls them "treatments".

The room I have been living in forever has pale faded dingy walls. The tile used to be white, now it's black. I have never seen them sweep or mop in here. My "bed" is nothing more than a thin tattered mat on the floor with an equally tattered pillow, that I got to bring from home; same with my blanket which was once a quilt, now a bare sheet.

 Once you are over the age they stop caring about you're living area, they change what wing you stay in. They don't have to care when you are a "Lifer"; someone who will most likely live and die here, mainly die here. The children's ward wasn't all that better treatment wise, but it was clean enough to pass the yearly inspections. The adult wing doesn't get inspected at all in the south they don't really want to talk about the unstable, we are a very taboo group of people.

I can understand why some people I have met in this Hell truly deserve to be here. We have sexual predators, murderers, and people who are just plain insane. Then, we have people who wouldn't hurt a fly but aren't all there, and their families couldn't handle or afford to care for them.

This isn't just a home for the insane, it's the home for the misfits, the unwanted, the unspeakable secrets of our neighboring towns. This was my home, this will always be my home.

I never could understand why or even how my family surrendered me to the devil, my father being a man of God himself. Could they not understand that I had a gift not from the devil but from God? I guess not since they've left me to rot in Hell for thirteen years. Thirteen years felt more like a hundred years if the calendar in the main room is right then I will be 23 in 2 days. Happy freaking Birthday to me. 

I'm guessing Dr. D will want to see me, as he has every year since I've arrived. At first, the Dr. helped me try to understand why my family had left me here; as a pastor, he couldn't have his congregation thinking I was possessed or a witch which is probably just as bad. The older I got the more pissed off I became. Now I would gladly live the rest of my life never seeing them again. They don't care about me, I couldn't care less about them then.

I'm hell-bent on getting out of the "hospital" this year. I will not spend any more time in here, I have been setting it up for a while now, telling good ole Dr. Hayes that I feel better. Even told him I haven't been having any "hallucinations" or episodes as we have dubbed them, some hundred sessions ago. Dr. Jacob Hayes has been my therapist since I was 10. The first time I met him, I had just arrived here at Our Healing Hand, home for the wards of the state. That's what they called us after we've been here so long. This building didn't also have this charade.

 I will never ever forget how the building looked the day my parents dropped me off. The memories of the hurt, terror, and confusion I felt that day dance around my chest.

I had been receiving nightly visits from my grandfather for about three months, before my family found out about it; I was sitting in my room with all my lights off, as usual, I had put my pillows under my blanket to look like I was in bed and I had sat in the corner hidden from the door just in case Papa had come to check on me.

He very seldom did that but you could never be too careful in our home, the punishment was always swift and almost always never forgotten.

Shit, look at what my punishment was for seeing and talking to the dead.

My grandfather had always come at 12:01 AM, my bedtime was 8:00 PM if I was good and got all my chores and homework done.

My brothers went to bed at 9 and my parents at 10, I would lay in my bed for 2 hours to make sure Papa wouldn't hear me get out of bed and just wait. I had missed Pop-pop so much and loved to talk to him and tell him all about my life goals and plans and update him about the family. At the time I didn't know he had been dead for 2 years. I didn't understand death then.

One night, I'm not sure if I had made some noise or been too loud, or maybe my mother just had the feeling to check up on me, but she did.

When she opened my door, I was standing in the middle of my room with my back to the door, I had asked my grandfather if she was behind me.

I had grown cocky. An almost fatal mistake.

My mama being who she was wanted to know who I was talking to and if I had anyone in my room. She searched my room high and low before going to get my father. 

As soon as I saw him, I knew I was in big trouble, he had me sit on my bed, and he sat in the chair. He only looked at me until I told him who I had been playing with, after that he stared above my head.

I think my mother had already told him, but he didn't want to believe her. He told me it was impossible and when I became persistent and told him everything, he got up, told me to lay down and go back to sleep.

That had never happened before. I remember crying myself to sleep. I was terrified of what my punishment was going to be, I had never imagined I would still be serving it.

When I woke up the next morning, my mama had packed me a bag, my brothers had already been sent off to school, my papa was now were around. Mama told me to get my pillow and blanket and to get in the car, Papa was waiting on me.

He didn't say a word the entire trip, neither he nor my mama looked at me, not even when they took me to the door where the doctor had been waiting for me with two orderlies. My parents handed them my luggage turned and got right back in their car, no goodbyes, no I love you, I received no explanation, until I was sitting inside Dr. Hayes office.

Wiping a tear off my face, look at me being all emotional about my jerk parents, let me just shove that pain back into the locker it escaped from. I will not let them hurt me any longer. No longer am I the weak little girl they left here. I have learned how to survive here, I think I can survive anywhere.

Once your soul has been burned by hellfire you no longer fear; nothing scares me at this point, not even death. I stare out my window wishing for a clock, not for the first time. The sun isn't even up, breakfast is an hour after sunrise and my group session in the main room or as I call it, the Pit.

The Pit is probably just as bad if not worse than the treatment room. Only because they throw everyone in there and then leave us to our own devices, a lot of horrible unspeakable things could happen to you if you aren't careful.

I always sit at the table in the back corner of the room, with my back against the wall. I learned my lesson after what happened to Casey; she was only a temp resident. She had been here a month before going back home, she had attempted suicide.

 We became friends mainly because we were close to the same age. I had just turned eighteen and been moved to this wing, she was maybe nineteen. She sure did not look it though she looked maybe fifteen especially with her sweet and innocent looking face, with her big round blue eyes and the perfect shade of pink lips set on the fairest of skin.

We hit it off as soon as we met, we were absolutely inseparable. We had almost talked Dr. Hayes into letting us be roommates, but she left before it could happen.

 One of the reasons she got out of here ahead of schedule was because she was attacked in the Pit. It's OK for the Lifers to be attacked but never a Temp. They can get out and tell others about how the patients are treated here or go to the cops who will start asking questions and that is never good.

I listened to something drip onto the floor. With nothing else to do, but think, I started counting the drops. Soon enough, my eyes got heavy and I lost count.

Hiya!!
You made it through the first chapter, what do you think? I personally feel for Theresa just being disregarded by her family. Shame, shame knows their names 😂 Alright that's enough of my ramblings.

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