Sunny Smiles

Ms Jackson

Chapter Three:

The small monitors in front of us flicker on. A man appears standing in front of large brick wall. His long bleach blond hair and piercing green eyes stick out boldly against the black and a smile dances on his lips. His beauty was breathtaking.  He looks down at us from the screen with smiling eyes.

A pair of sickly green eyes.

He speaks.

“Welcome.” He says. Something about his tone gives him a sinister edge.

“You will soon be arriving at my crowning accomplishment, “Sunny Smiles” psychiatric institution.”

His grin widens as he chuckles softly to himself, making me wonder what was so funny.

“You are here because you have been-

He pauses shortly to smile once again at us.

 “….well….troubled lately…. Our job here is to help you then send you back on your merry way, which ever direction you choose”

A rather large gentleman with regressing white hair stumbles into the shot and whispers something into the ear of the man with the green eyes.

“Just take care of it Mr. Deans.”  He says without taking his eyes of the camera.

The older man who I assume is Mr. Deans stammers, “But….But….Sir...”

The man with the green eyes shoots him a commanding look and Mr. Deans backs away in a rush after managing to squeak out in a rather pitiful voice, “Yes, Sir, Doctor Frost sir.”

Doctor Frost then turns back to the camera and smiles a wide toothy grin.

“I hope you enjoy your stay.”

The Screens goes dark and I can feel the bus close to a stop.

Lucy turns to me, her big blue eyes shiny with hidden tears,

“Ally, I’m scared, I don’t want to go.”

 “Don’t worry Lucy, I promised I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I mean it.”

Memories of Amy fly through the back of my mind, disrupting the thin sheet of balance I have left keeping me from breaking down. Her broken smile tears through my barrier and I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes.  How could I ever make another promise after what I’ve done?

  The doors toward the front of the bus groan open. A young woman with pale skin and short dark hair stands tall in the opening, a broad smile plastered to her beautiful face. She opens her mouth as if to say something but no sound exists her deadly red lips, instead she just stares, captivating my gaze.  She nods to the bus driver then, as quickly as she had appeared, she slips away. In her absence stands Dr. Frost, wearing the same unsettling smile. “Ahh” he exclaims, “Bright new faces!” he glances pointedly at me, “Come. Let Ms. Jackson show you where you’ll be staying.”

Everyone who wasn’t hand cuffed, which seems to be everyone besides me and the boy with the black hair, stands up in unison and makes their way towards the front of the bus. It’s strange though, people of all ages, all races, all types walking so uniformly in the same direction.  Lucy looks at me with a hint of panic in her eyes.

“I’ll find you, don’t worry.” I say, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

 She shakes her head slowly and frowns, “No, I’ll find you.” 

Before I could object she is directed away by a man in gray and I am left alone.

I lean back in my seat letting out a deep breath. Maybe everything will be ok. Maybe this really is just a place to get better. A sick feeling makes itself known in the pit of my being and I get the feeling I’m being watched. I turn to meet the gray eyed gaze of the boy with black hair. How long had he been up? Had he been watching me? There was a determined coldness in his eyes, and hard sadness in his frown. He was, to me anyway, incredibly nice to observe. I realize there is something familiar about him; I’ve seen him before…..but where? A large man in a gray suit walks between us and stands in front of me, interrupting my concentration on the boys’ features.

The man leans over and unlocks my cuffs then without a word directs me to the front of the bus. I stand on unsteady feet and stumble out of my seat.

“Jeez, walk much. “  The boy with black hair chuckles softly behind me. I can feel the blood rush to my cheeks but still manage to reply smoothly (Or at least I think so)

“Yeah all the time.”

I hear him laugh once more behind me but this time closer, as if he was right next my ear. I turn to face him but I’m taken aback by what I see, or lack thereof. The bus is empty, which is puzzling because I could have sworn there where at least three men in grey and a particularly attractive boy behind me only seconds ago.

I make my way nervously to the front of the bus, each step making much more noise than it should.  Each step making me more and more uneasy.  The stench of something foul like a mix between rotting flesh and morning breath rises up and I feel as though I’m going to be sick. I double over with the promises of vomiting but I don’t and instead I just stand there, halfway to the front, breathing hard as if I had just ran a mile.  With a soft click I hear the light in the back shut off, then another, another. I move, struggling to keep up with the light as they continue to shut off one by one until I reach the very front. There Ms. Jackson waits for me. She sits curtly in the driver’s seat, one had rested on the wheel and the other holds a clipboard. Her cherry lips curl to a smile and her eyes stare past me.

“What are you waiting for?” she asks, her voice sweet but emotionless at the same time.

I turn to the doors of the bus, closed, and then back to her.

“The door is closed.” I say

She hisses, her voice inhuman, “How can something be considered closed when being open was never really an option to begin with.”

I stare at her, mystified, nervousness rising inside me. 

Her smile widens and she turns her head slightly to the side, then a little more, then once again until her neck bends with an awful snapping noise, the bone jutting out of her skin. I gasp and stumble backwards, catching myself between the seats. Her head continues to roll, grinding, bone against bone. She stands, her arms and legs moving in fast, jerking movements. I continue moving farther and farther back into the bus, confused and very much bothered.  What is happening? Ms. Jackson falls to her knees and continues to crawl on all fours towards me in the most inhumanly human way, her head dangling limply from her twisted neck.

“Stop!” I shriek,

“What is wrong with you?”

A chanting laughter fills the air. “What’s wrong with you?” the voices cry, mocking me.

I reach the end of the bus, my hands in fists pounding to no avail at its cold metal surface. The monster continues to advance.  I slide down the wall and assume fetal position, closing my eyes tight and covering my ears. 

Silence.

The voices quiet and the sound of bone scraping against metal stop. All that remains is the sound of hoarse, labored breathing, and the feeling of a cold dying breath on the back of my neck.

Darkness.