Crazy to Think You're Here..

Chapter4

-EDITED- 

Chapter Four

“Who am I really? And where am I going?”

After my horrid realization of what I am capable of doing, I knew that whenever I was going to let myself rest something like this would always happen. I didn’t want to turn into a murderer, I already hated myself enough.

I looked with shadowed eyes at the poor victim. She was young and beautiful, this girl, and I killed her along with the goals she was probably dreaming of achieving. She can’t graduate from college anymore, nor could she get married and have kids, and it’s my entire fault. Her blue eyes were wide open, but I knew she couldn’t she a thing. Even if she was dead, her expressions still showed fear. I was such a vicious monster. Why did I have to kill this innocent girl?

My eyes scanned over her bloodied body, before they zeroed on the purse she was tightly clutching. I slowly released it from her hold and opened it, for I have hope for money but found nothing but candy. I knew I had to keep the candy, it was my only source of food, and I’ll have to use the purse to store things. I took out a piece of candy and stared at it. It seemed as if it was mocking me, its yellow wrapper shining every time I looked at it from a different angle. I put it back into the purse and sighed dejectedly.

I pushed her body further into one of the corners of the alleyway, and continued walking. I found myself walking beside a quiet neighborhood, and the familiar feeling of envy coursed within me. they had everything, and I had absolutely nothing.

I sat down on the pavement and watched the sunrise, and it was only then when I realized for how long I’ve been out of the mental hospital. The sun was slowly making its way over the horizon, changing the sky into a beautiful mix of orange and pale yellow. It somehow added serenity to the sky. I felt my eyes slightly tear up; I hadn’t seen such beauty in a long time. Ever since almost a year ago, my eyes only see darkness.

I looked around the neighbor, people were starting to turn on their lights, the irritating sound of alarm clocks ringing filled my ears and I sighed. Kids were getting ready for school, adults for work, and even the dog was readying himself to eat. If only my life was that simple.

The newspaper boy was on his bike, slowly paddling and expertly throwing papers on every doorstep. He noticed my gaze and his eyes suddenly widened in both recognition and fear as he asked with a stutter, “Y-You’re the crazy lunatic who ran away from a mental hospital, a-aren’t you?”

My body suddenly shook in alarm, he knew who I was, he will surely report me, and I’ll have to go to the mental hospital again! I got up and stepped closer to him, to which he let out a shrilling scream. People were starting to notice. Doors were getting opened, revealing questioning faces.

I knew I had to move, and fast. I force-took a newspaper from the boy and ran away, knowing that I was nothing but a dangerous psychopath.

Once I was at a safe distance, I slowed my pace and took a good look at the newspaper.

It read: Wanted, can be very dangerous if approached. If found, please report to St. Jackson’s Mental Institution. Next to it was a picture of me, my doe-like eyes staring back at the camera solemnly.

I hated how they talked about me as if I was an animal who ran away from its cage, as if I was filth in their way. I knew I had to be careful, they can’t catch me. I don’t want to return to that hellhole.

Once again, I see Noah right in front of me, and I almost ran to him but I didn’t. I realized that if I did approach him, then he will fade away like he usually does. I knew I had to ignore his figure that seemed as if it was taunting me, daring me to step closer to it. I walked straight ahead, ignoring his ghost. It made me vulnerable, seeing him, I mean. He keeps bringing back all the laughs, the memories, the kisses, and when I try to reach for him and the memories I know he’ll fade away, reminding me that I can’t get those memories back.

I don’t know for how long I walked, tears brimming at my eyes, but my feet were getting numb. It was getting cold, and the hospital gown I was wearing was inadequate to provide with any warmth.

I sat on the pavement again, my fingers cradling my face. The only solution ringing in my mind was to suicide.

I looked for anything that I could stab my heart with, but I couldn’t find any. My eyes searched the whole street before they fixated on a glass of alcohol in the trash. My mind instantly clicked, and I knew that it could be useful. I ran towards it and held it with shaky hands before slamming it into a hard surface, breaking it. I took a pointy shard, and I stared at it wistfully, knowing that it would be the solution to all of my problems.

I lifted it to my heart level, ready to stab it in when a voice interrupted me and said, “Lauren, don’t!”

I looked up, only to be faced with an unfamiliar figure. It was a man wearing a concerned expression, and I was suddenly confused to why he was looking at me with concern. I mean, who would care about a lunatic woman who was about to kill herself?

“Who are you?” I asked with bewilderment, “What do you want from me? How do you know my name?”

“I am Daniel.” He introduced, “I recognized your face. I saw you in the newspaper earlier this morning. Don’t kill yourself, believe me, you’ll never feel the happiness and joy of life if you do.”

I was shocked to what he said, no has ever been this nice to me. His sincerity and seriousness reminded me of Noah, and I smiled a little.

“I’d rather die than go back into that mental hospital.”

“I’ll help you.” he suggested, “I’ve been looking all day for you, and now that I’ve found you, I won’t let you go. I don’t care about the consequences.”

I was still surprised, I never thought that any human being would care about me, but he proved me wrong.

“Help me?” I asked to which he slowly nodded, “Why?”

My brother had the same story, but I hope you’ll have a different ending than his. He killed himself. I would be frustrated if anyone chose his way of life.”

A pause.

“I will help you run away.”