Dr. Reel says I need my meds. But honestly, I'm not crazy, I don't need them, all they do is fuzz my thoughts so that I become a mindless zombie like the rest of these loonies in this damn asylum, Percivilles Home For The Mentally Unstable. Which I am NOT by the way. The only reason I'm in this damn place is because the investigators on my parents murder refused to believe my story, about the shadows coming, and so they assumed I did it. My lawyer plead insanity and now I'm here, the only sane voice in this place. Nobody believes me, but I KNOW what I saw. Or, do I? It all happened so fast. One minute my mom is on me yelling about something or the other, and the next thing I know there is darkness, and then, there was blood. So much...blood.
So that gives you a basic idea of why I'm locked up. Really I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, with a story that nobody except me believes. Talk about misfortune. At least you believe me. What's that? You don't remember who I am? Oh, ha, well that's okay, it HAS been a while since we last talked. My name Is Delilah Hansen, but I go by Lila usually. About six months ago my parents died under mysterious circumstances (shadows) and as the only person around at the time of their deaths, I was accused and thrown in here,which you already should have known. Sorry, I have a tendency to repeat myself, my thoughts are just always so scattered. I have dark brown hair and dark blue eyes, and skin that was once tan but since being locked up has gotten to the color of paper. I'm also nearing 16 years old, February of next year. Or, has my birthday already passed? I don't know, I have lost all my sense of time.
That's not entirely true, I have some sense of time, I have to after all with all the damn alarms going off in this place. Our daily schedule is something like this:
7AM: WAKE UP TIME BABY! This is the time you have to get your butt up and get your bed ready for inspection, and yourself ready as well. We sleep in rooms with four girls each, and if you all aren't up and running by 7:10, you get last in line at breakfast which means cold, slimy food. Yuck!
7:30AM: Breakfast. Otherwise known as guess the meat! Is it bacon? Is it sausage? A mix of both? Who knows! But if you don't eat it all, you get put under eating disorder watch, so you have to stomach it with a grin to avoid suspicion. Cardboard pancakes and all. Utensils set off the alarms if you try to smuggle them out of the cafeteria, and then you are put under 24/7 watch and then suicide watch usually follows that which is definitely not fun.
8AM-12PM: Counseling/Psychiatrists. Various awkward meetings with adults who specialize in mental cases meet with us. Mine has done everything but give up on me. Hey, it's her fault for not believing me, if she just would believe me then I wouldn't be here and she could stop wasting her damn time.
12PM-1PM: Meds and lunch. Time to play guess the pill AND guess the meat. Some girls, self-harmers mainly, they like to pawn off their painkillers to the druggies, and the girls who need to lose weight due to eating disorders, they sometimes pawn off their diet pills to the ana's. None of this is legal of course and if they get caught...but they still do. Nobody wants my pills. Who wants thought killers?
1PM-3PM: "Social" hour. AKA the time I get mostly ignored because everyone thinks I'm some kind of murderer. Whatever, not like I want to talk to those nutjobs anyways. I spend this time reading the same book, "A Little Princess", repeatedly. I can never get tired of that book.
3PM-4PM: Dinner. Just as ew at the first two.
4PM-6PM: Shower blocks are open! Better get there fast for hot water!
6PM-10PM: This is "quiet hour", when girls do the bits of homework they have, as if they will ever be put in the real world again before they finish high school. Plus, who would hire a former loony?
10PM: LIGHTS OUT
That is what I have to go through every day. I'm currently under suicide watch, but that's not my fault. It's not my fault the shadows came and clawed at my arms, but the doctors think I was cutting myself so it's whatever. I know I didn't and that's all that matters.
A/N: And I finally reveal my secret side project that is brought to you by ramen and Green Day and Mountain Dew.
YOU ARE READING
White Walls
General FictionI'm not crazy. Really, I'm not. I know, I know, the evidence is kind of against me on this one, but you have to trust me on this. I know what I saw, what happened. The shadows came, the ones that killed my parents. Nobody believes me, they think I d...
