Twisted Love

Amelia White

You know what sucks about living half  your life in a crazy nut house full of other crazy people, killers, murders, and probably monsters, is that you never get used to how dark, and scary it is, and oh yeah, the screams, every day, every night, you can hear them rattle the bars in the cells, you never get used to it, even if you lived half your life here. You never get over it, sadly. It's not fun, it's not easy, you have to watch your back most of the time, seeing as most of the time your around these crazy fucks, I'm not always in my cell, they allow us to get around and walk around. But not without 'Adult' supervision. Yes the air quotes, seeing as half the shitheads that are supposed to be guards are fucking pervs. They will touch you, If they like you. And they'll get away with it too. Because who will they believe, the killer that's gonna spend the rest of their lives in here, or the guard that works at said crazy nut house? Yeah, that's what I thought.

But it is nice to get up and around, still have to watch your back though, you think I'm the craziest and most dangerous person here? Wrong. Think again. There are crazier motherfuckers here. So yeah, living with Pervy guards, crazy ass killers as next door neighbors, oh and the occasional shock therapy to the brain. I forgot most of things that I had in my head, I don't even really remember what it was like outside the gates, or my father, and I can barely remember my mother, all I can remember is her face as she left me that dreadful day. She didn't turn back around once. Showed me she really loved me. Basically I'm an orphan, go figure. And one more thing that I do know, is that my real name isn't Amelia, my mother just didn't want me to have that part of me inside of here. To her, I am dead. We just share a last name. My real name is Hannah. And that's all I really remember from my old life. But yeah, this is my life. Gonna spend the rest of it inside of this fucky ass place.

Super.

You think I was going into detail about what they do to us here? Your wrong. I was giving you the 'innocent' option, instead of scaring you. But I can give you the 'scary' option too if you want me to. Alright, they probed me with needles, filled with who knows what, been shocked with paddles to the head, lost most of my memory of my childhood. Of my father. They beat me black and blue, and like I said, the guards are fucking Pervy, a couple of them tried to rape me, well, sadly, one of them actually succeeded, but I really don't want to go into detail on that one. Moving on! But I won't be used again, I won't! I'm not some play toy they want to play with when they're bored. I am a person! A person damn it! I've been here since I was ten years old, I have my scars, I have my nightmares, I'm just like the rest of these motherfuckers in here. When you've been in here as long as I have, you learn to like the dark and spooky shit. This place ain't for the innocent and weak. They don't give a shit if your afraid of the dark. When your here, you better make the dark your God damn best friend. Or else your fucked.

My parents didn't give a shit about me, my mother dumped me here when I was just a kid, she didn't give me a kiss on the forehead and say goodbye like some caring mother would, she just gave me a blank look, and turned around and left. I was dead to her, she didn't even want me to have my real name, that's how dead I was to her. And I thought she loved me. But I was wrong, so so wrong. And then there's my father, I don't really remember all that well, seeing as I don't have many memories of him, all I can remember is his laughter, the way he sang to me when I was a kid, I remember the way he used to smell, he always had that certain smell that I found comforting. He smelled like a certain cologne of woody notes, incense, and a bit of nutmeg. It's weird how I remember all that about him. When I can't even remember his face or his name. I really want to believe that he loved me, that he wouldn't have left me like my mother did. But where did he go? Why did he leave? Why didn't he take me with him? Didn't he love me at all? Was I really that unloveable? I don't remember anything about him since the day he left, when I was only seven years old. So he must have left around that time. I don't get it, why? Why did he leave? Why didn't he take me with him? Why did my mother stop loving me? Why did my mother do this to me? What did I do wrong? There were so many questions I had, but none of them could be answered.