Living a Nightmare

Insanity

Age 6-7:
It was horribly boring being locked in a room all the time. The first day I spent there was the day after my sixth birthday, when I woke up in the hospital.  It was a very odd hospital, the room was white with a cushiony floor and it had a small desk with rounded corners.  At first I tried to get up only to find leather restraints holding me down.  I desperately pulled and and squirmed trying to break free.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a camera.  I began to yell to see if anyone could hear me but I guess no one was checking the camera at the moment.  I tried to break free one last time when I felt a sharp pain flow through my whole body.  I screamed, the pain was unbearable, and I couldn't help but cry.  Someone finally came in, I was still paralyzed in pain.  They took off the blanket and restraints and gave me an injection.  I immediately felt a flush of relief as my body began to numb and my breathing began to slow down.  I felt a lot more calm now and a bit drowsy.  The same lady that had given me the injection began to replace my bandages. That's when I realized I had stitches.  When I tried to ask the lady where I was, I found that it was rather hard to speak. My throat ached now and I was wearing a sort of cast for it, so I assumed my neck was damaged somehow as well. I spent many days there, and even after my external wounds recovered I was still locked in that room. Of course they would give me breakfast, lunch, and dinner but what would get on my nerves was the fact that they all seemed to ignore me. I was spoken to but they often spoke to me like I was insane.
On my seven birthday I killed the nurse that had annoyed me so horribly. I hated her and I was now finally free from her. I locked her dead body in the closet and left it to rot..
My seventh birthday was a really sad day for me... my favorite nurse Amy was found dead in the closet and I was suspected as the murderer. I couldn't believe that they expected me to be so heartless. I'd never hurt Amy no matter what... Sadly, the killer was never found.....

Age 8:
I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill, I love to kill,
Finally, They let me out and I was taken to a psychologist to help me out with the mental issues I'm pretty sure I didn't have. I can't remember much from the sessions but she did mention something about a personality disorder or something like that, I simply told her that was impossible. I'd obviously remember if I had different personalities.

Age 9:
I was finally able to sleep at night. No more nightmares haunted me and I was pretty happy. I had a head injury a few weeks ago but I think all my memory is back now. I was a normal little girl with strict parents and a big brother and I went to school like everyone else and lived a normal happy life. That's what I thought but my memory didn't have any of that. It had nothing at all... but everyone one around me told me I was just like any other little girl and so I rolled with it. How stupid of me...