Insane

Part 1.

The nervous breaths that escaped my lips trembled in the air before me. My hands were moist in an uncomfortable percperation as the small yellow cab edged closer to the moment where the lie that had set me free would be the same lie to trap me again. Finally, the vehicle jerked to a stop.  Countless questions raced through my mind as I fretted what lay inside the cream colored brick structure that towered over my frail figure. 

                I didn’t want to hear the terrible truth; my family believed me to be insane. My sweet mother seemed to be the only one to believe I wasn’t crazy. I could tell by the way salty water pushed the rim of her deep hazel eyes that she would do anything to allow me not to go. My grandparents were the ones that thought I was crazy. After my father had died I sunk into a deep depression. I wouldn’t communicate with anyone in fear I’d grow attached to them, like I was attached to my father, and they’d be ripped away from my life just like he had been in a matter of seconds. I suppose making no contact with anyone at family reunions was considered an insane thing to do. I heard the countless conversations between my grandparents and my mother from the vent that led from my small room to the kitchen. The protests my mother cried were clear, as well as demands from my grandparent’s that I be shipped away. 

                I couldn’t say it came as a surprise to me when my mother called me down from my room, pamphlet in hand. I honestly believed that I wasn’t insane. I might’ve been a little depressed but I truly wasn’t crazy. This consistent truth that repeats over and over again in my mind was something an insane individual was incapable of hearing. You become insane when you lose sight of reality. This hasn’t happened to me, yet.

                Quickly the tall cab driver tossed me my bags. In a rush he started the bright yellow car and drove off, a fearful look present in his beady grey eyes. Why was he afraid? I didn’t necessarily have to be insane to be dropped off at an insane asylum so why should he judge me so quickly? For all he knows I could just be the calm and collected sister of a resident in the Fair Brookes Insane Asylum. Butterflies began to flutter through my stomach. What if I never got out of here? I would never be allowed to have a job, or live a normal life. This fall I would be a senior. What if I never graduated? The summer only lasts three months, and if I’m not cured by then who knows what will happen to me.

                My worried thoughts had been interrupted by a slim lady who stood behind a large wooden desk. Her face was hidden behind a glass window but I could still make out the pretty features it had to offer.

“What’s your name darling?” Her voice was sweet and rich.

“Izzy, Izzy Fitzpatrick.” I softly spoke. The rich brown eyes she possessed squinted underneath her round burgundy glasses as she peered down at a sheet of paper, I assumed the paper had a list of all the residents in the insane asylum.

“Oh! Here you are doll, I’ll call someone to take you to your room. Then we’ll have another resident give you the tour of the place. Why do you look so worried? You’ll love it here!” The lady seemed rather chatty. I nodded half-heartedly as I saw her long finger nail press a few buttons on the black phone placed before her.

I glanced around the building, which was fairly nice. I saw a decent living area in the corner of the entryway. It had a marble coffee table and numerous velvety couches. I noticed a plump girl sitting on one. She was playing with a matchbox car. The kind my older brother used to have when we were little. A thin woman in a white uniform was standing next to her; she was telling the heavier woman not to shove the car in her mouth. I chuckled quietly under my breath. Beside the living area was a long hallway; on each side of the hallway were slender white doors with numbers on them.  I assumed those were the rooms all of the female residence lived in. The building the males stayed in was right new to this one.  On the other side of the living area was a huge cafeteria. It looked like the type of cafeteria I had at my high school. I noticed a number of large knives hanging from the kitchen area of the cafeteria. They shouldn’t leave those knives just hanging out in the open for anyone to grab I thought. We’re in an insane asylum after all.