Night

Disturbance Prologue

Note: This is my interpretation of what a sequel might be from The Walkers written by @beyondpsychopathic .

If you've finished reading The Walkers, this journal starts where Katrissa has been transferred from the mental hospital to a privately owned one.

Taken from Subject 1's journal.

Day 1
I find myself in a cell. I can't remember a lot about my past. It may be because of the surgery. Before I lose any more memories, this is what I know.

Mum's dead, dad disappeared?! (WHY? HOW? I might be orphaned?) I had older sisters. Don't know appearance, past or names of anyone. But I can recall *voices*. Strangely I still can draw the same, despite not remembering learning how to.

I was in some sort of war thingie with a large group of people (who are all dead!!) and we travelled a lot. (I tried to remember what useful skills I might have had, but just blank). Recall lots of running, isolation, boredom, gore, pain, crying, numbness...

I'm a high school student (what school?) who's only talented in drawing (no other great abilities yet?) and likes psychology. +Orphaned?

My parents are dead. My friends? are dead. What. Why. How... And I'm all alone, imprisoned.

I also feel like a grown up baby who knows themselves only through some information. No personal experience at all. Should I be glad of the surgery? That doesn't seem right.

(Useless fact: I had a white rabbit called Coco. It's useless enough to be remembered).

Okay back from dinner. There's nothing to do but panic. The cell is like a house condensed into one room. A single, hard bed that can be pulled down from the wall on my right. A square window, that's barred and I can't see through it. (Too short). A desk, chair and this A4 notebook and pen. A toilet with a tiny sink on my left. The door behind me has a flap for food trays to enter or exit.

Okay going to bed early.

Day 2
No inspiration to write. I know I'm isolated because I survived some war thingie. I don't even know why. Will leave questions for later.

[Drawings of 'Coco' and doodles of random people and mythical beings. Took up 2 pages]

Been very tired mentally. Maybe from the surgery. Dizzy too. Slept most of the day.

Day 3
Less fatigued. Same routine. Wake up, eat, write/draw, eat, draw, eat, sleep. I still have things to draw but am worried about going blank/crazy. There's no one to talk to but myself.

[Similar drawings but with more stick figures in various poses and repetition of some women/girls. Each have distinctive features. Took up 4.5 pages]

Also been trying to ask whoever is giving/taking my food what's going on and what is this place etc etc. No answer.
There's also nothing I can use to break out of here. Used all the furniture I can. Darn.

Day 4
I won't be lazy and not write down my questions. The amount of confusion rn is gonna drive me bonkers. No order.

Where is my dad?
Why/How's my mum dead?
Where am I in Australia? State? City?
Where are my sisters? Are they even alive?
How am I still alive? (And everyone's dead?)
What happened to my sisters?
What even is the year? It's mid January-I know that.
What was the war?
Who were the people I fought with?
Why/How are they all dead?
Why does everything seem so off here?

[Some random patterns. Some eyes, clothing and half finished faces of the same women/girls. Took up 3 pages]

Did the same questioning for today. Nothing so far. Going to sleep for the sake of it.

Day 5
Hope is a concept naive/ignorant people hold onto in times of crisis.

[Drawings of darker themes, like death, weapons and oppression. The same women/girls drawn and with three new ones. Some male faces, with different expressions. Took up 3 pages]

But I did the same questioning anyway.

Day 6
I hear footsteps! I think they're coming closer.

What's going to hap

[End of Journal. Surgeries were proven successful. Subject 1 has been taken to the first hypnosis session].