My head throbs. Pounding and thundering drums echo through my mind. I try to think but the effort only increases the banging. I rub my temples with my hands. I try to remember what I am doing. I start slowly increasing the complexity of my thoughts. I shouldn't be here, someone is trying to find me, I should be here, someone is trying to find me. Who?
I almost double over onto the ground. The pain is to excruciating. I place my hands over my ears. I can hear his voice now. It's a soft whisper but it is there. I try to grasp the voice but it is too faint. My awareness starts to slip. I am terrified. I start to scream.
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"Vivian? Vivian." I ask again. I sigh in exasperation. She is so impossible. I stare at who quivering form laying on the ground. Her screams have quieted by now but I still remember them. She sounded like she was being tortured and in a way she was. I cannot imagine what it must be like to not remember who you are. I guess that is the reason I want this job. To try and help those in need. But it is clear that Vivian is beyond help right now.
I look over to the guards standing by the doors. A strange feeling of anger and hatred fills me every time I see one. They represent this awful place. They remind me that unlike me everyone thinks that Vivian is insane. She is not. I know she isn't. Then why do I feel so melancholy. I want to give up every time she screams. But I can tell. I can tell that she is starting to come back bit by bit. She almost talked to me today. That is a good sign...I hope.
"Bracken, would you like Vivian taken back to her room now?"
"Yes," I say and look away from the broken little girl on the ground. As the gaurd gently scoops her up and walks out of the room I see something on the ground where Vivian had been laying. I walk over and scoop it up. It is a small piece of paper. I turn it over and one word is written on the back. I gulp loudly. This should be impossible. Vivian is not able to write but this is her's for sure. It reads:
Help
-Vivian-
They are evil. All of them. I hate them. Why won't they leave me alone. They think that I'm insane. How can I be insane when I know that I'm not. Well am I though? If I'm not them why am I in here. They all wear white. If anything they should be the ones being called insane. Who would want to dress in a stupid white coat and wear nothing else. They always look at me like I'm trash. Though they smile it is strained and through their eyes I can see pity. I hate pity. Pity is when someone looks at you and thinks that you are weak. I am not weak. I don't need to be in here.
But do I belong in here. I can't remember anything. My head hurts. I see his face then, the one I am running from. It is blurry yet I can make it out ever so slightly. I gasp and whimper. But then its gone.
What was I thinking about? It's a blur. I can't think. My head is pounding now. A gutteral growl rips from me in frustraition.I grip something. I become aware of my new surroundings. I am back in my room. I am on a cot with a thin white paper spread over it. My hands turn white from tension. Why was I holding them so tightly? Why can't I remember. I feel scared. My head is yelling at me now.
My vivision goes foggy. I don't see. Oohhh my head. Will the pain ever stop? Suddenly I feel like I've been hit in the head with a hammer. I scream. This pounding happens again and again until I am curled up in a ball screaming. My memoreis? Where have they gone? Tears stream down my cheeks. My screams now sound in humane but I am only half aware of that. I feel like I'm in a different world not able to control what I do but watch what happens. I'm scared. No, I'm terrified. I know that feeling all to well.
My screams increase in folume as the terror grips me. Suddenly the men walk in. The ones in the white coats. I hate them. They are holding something. My focus comes back into my own body and I grip my hands over my ears. The pounding, it hurts. I stare widly at the syringe in the mens hand. One holds me down. Don't touch me! I struggle and kick but it is useless. My strength from long ago is now gone. Wait I had strength once. Am I remembering? I see the glint of silver as the needle goes into my kneck. Then everything goes black.
