Books to Be

Clinically Insane

A demented laugh echoed against the cold, cement walls. The guard shivered from his post near the exit, trying to avoid the unhinged cries of his ward. Me.

I dropped from my hand stand and giggled manically as the blood rushed to my head. I tilted my head and dark brown hair fell in a curtain to my right.

"Do you want to play a game?" I called, my voice high in excitement. He's new, he should be a lot of fun to harass.

He stood resolutely, his shoulders squared against my words. "It's not hard. You don't even have to move." A sigh left my lips as he continued to ignore me.

"How's this. I'll start and you can join in when you're ready." I skipped to my desk, which was bolted to the ground, and picked up the only pencil I'm allowed. It's a short thing and I can never get a good enough hold on it to stab someone with it. Oh, not my guards of course. It's the others that need to be stabbed.

I returned to the edge of my cell and pressed my hands against the cool metal bars. "Let's see if I can make you question your reality." I giggled again before lowering my voice seductively. "I mean, this is a place for the clinically insane, so if you're in here what's to say you aren't the one behind bars?"

His face drained of color, the peachy red now a ghostly white. A deranged smile tilted my lips and I tossed my head back as I laughed. He's  listening to every word I'm saying. I think that's the first thing they tell every new guard.

Never listen to me, I'm insane.

I moved the pencil to the tips of my fingers and began walking along the the length of my cage, trailing my hand across the bars. The sharp clink of wood against metal echoed similarly to my laugh. The rhythmic timing of my steps and the pencil added to the chaos in my mind.

"You know, they say those who really are crazy don't know they are." I whispered, barely audible over the sound of my slow torture.

A small bead of sweat trailed down his face and I frowned. He didn't last as long as I hoped he would. The new guards are never any fun.

Another hit from my pencil caused him to twitch and I knew it wouldn't be long before I had a new companion to talk to.

"I might just be a figment of your imagination," I cackled at my joke as my own demon entered my prison. The guard continued to look away, but his eyebrows were pulled together in worry. "I could be the part of your conscience that is crazy and this is all in your mind."

I reached the end of my room and walked back towards my bed. My demon sat, watching me with amusement.

"Guess what?" I yelled, never removing my eyes from the soulless ones in front of me. The scrape of his shoes against the ground told me my guard was startled, but I didn't care about him any more. He had no more use for my entertainment.

The room dropped back to silence as my shout rung in our ears. Only the sound of my pencil interrupted it until I froze in the middle of my asylum. I stood there for exactly a minute before breathing out my daily mantra.

"This isn't real."

*****
Hey!

It's me, again. What do you think? I'm kind of excited to start an original idea book.

This scene is actually later in the book for this idea. She isn't locked up at the beginning.

Also, it's scary creating your own characters! Props to all of you who do that regularly.

Until later,
BijinMum.