The mystery scribe

Chapter 1

I was twelve when the beautiful markings appeared on my skin. Flowers, swirls, quotes, and even small little doodles. It was three days before my eighteenth birthday when the burning cuts sliced their way in to the soft skin of my wrists. I was shocked, to say the least. Hiding the cuts under bandages and long sleeves worked, for a little while that is.

Three months after my birthday my parents started to become suspicious. For the first month, they tried talking to me more at dinner, asking me about school, and they even made sure that one of them was with me at all times. At night my mom worked at the hospital and my dad would take me to the movies. I must have seen every movie in the theater that month. When my dad was working at his restaurant, my mom would take me to the beach. I have never been so tan.

As more and more slashes ripped into me, my parents grew more and more worrisome. After four months of this, my parents decided that enough was enough. They were both together when I got home from school that night, a sight I hadn't seen in years. They sat me down and asked me to tell them what was going on. So I did. I explained everything from the drawings to the cuts. Of course they didn't believe me. What sane person would?

This encouraged them to send me to a psychiatrist. Over and over I told my story, and over and over I was told to tell the truth, to stop lying, that this was a safe place, and that I didn't need to be afraid. I went through seven shrinks in the span of two weeks. I must have set some kind of record.

The seventh shrink my parents sent me to, decided that I had depression, anxiety, and a compulsive lying disorder. The shrink then recommended that I be put in a mental hospital, "for my own good." Without blinking an eye, my parents admitted me to Saint Judith's hospital for the mentally challenged.

It took me all of two days to get packed for "The trip on the road to a better life" as it was explained in the brochure. I'd like to say that I put up a fight, but after everything that I had been through, a peaceful place to relax sounded amazing. Little did I know that Saint Judith's would be anything but what I had imagined.

     As my parents drove me across town, I watched as memories about this town flashed in front of my eyes like snapshots. After twenty minutes of driving we pulled up to large, dark iron gates. Saint Judith's. It was a tall building, with gated windows, a fence so high it could tickle a giant's knee, and a yard full of dead trees looming overhead. In all of its essence, I could only think of one word to describe it; death. Dramatic aren't I? Taking a deep breath I walked on to  the property. The gates closing me in. A monster swallowing its prey.

   I hoped that the inside would be better than the the exterior. I had no such luck. A puke-green, chipping paint coated the walls. Underfoot was a carpet that had probably started out as white. A dim yellow light cast a ghastly shadow across the room to a sickly old receptionist in the corner. After checking in at the desk, I said goodbye to my parents and was escorted up the stairs to my new dormitory.

I had twenty minutes to unpack and change into the pre-mandated, white clothes and shoes. Then as I left, a nurse came to bring me to the doctor on staff, and another started going through my stuff. The floors in the doctor's wing had changed into tile rather than the nasty carpet . The doctor checked my health, and then uncovered the cuts on my wrist. The doctor didn't even blink an eye. It was at this point when I realized that these cuts were normal in a place like this; that these people, my parents, they believed that I belonged here. But I wasn't doing this, I was not cutting myself.

But someone was. Someone was living without the desire to exist. Walking down the street not seeing the beautiful colors around them. Not believing that they are worth anything; not worth loving. I needed to find this person. Their life was now tied to mine. I had a connection with this person. A connection that was now equally as important to the both of us.

And suddenly the walls didn't seem so bad, and the light didn't seem so gloomy. I could save this person, whoever they were. This place showed me that. I kept that in mind as the doctor gave me my first dose of pills. I kept that in mind as I slipped in to a numbing haze brought on by the drugs. I was doing this for that person, my mystery scribe.