Wiliker County's Insane Asylum: Elzy Bounton

There Once Was a Sweet Child...

I woke up with a shiver running down my back like usual. It always starts from my shaved head, and slowly moves down my vertabre, and traveled to the back of my thighs until I'm numb. I'm used to this by now.

That's because I've been apart of this empty room that's part of my house with all of these nice people in white gowns and blue rubber gloves giving me medicine for the bad dreams that I have. Although, they must be really vivid dreams because it feels like the people in my thoughts are with me in this room, so I get really confused a lot and start screaming like crazy! And that's when my friends with the medicine help me calm down.
My papa who runs this home with all of the people who has similar dreams like I do, says that the people with the medicine says that my thoughts could get better, if I would just let him do whatever he wants me to do. My papa wears a nice black suit all the time it seems, and has slick shiny, black hair and brown eyes. He's very tall, too.
He scars me sometimes.
But he says that there's nothing to be afraid of because I'm not a little child anymore. Papa remembers when he first rescued me and let me stay in a different house that was closer to this one. Papa took me under his wing, almost.
Not only did Papa own this home, but he also ran a museum with strange objects in there. Every Friday, he would bring home a new relic to put in the museum and everyone would flock to the new object and stare at it with awe. Some people would like it more than others and so would stare at it longer than others.
But sometimes, the certain new object that would get no attention, those were the objects that I used to like the most. For some reason, I just felt an attraction to the less fortunate objects, and felt a pull to give them attention, as well. If Papa didn't want the object that no one wanted, and that wasn't getting enough attention, then he would give it to me to keep. I ended up with a lot of objects of my own, so much so that I had to get a whole room of objects to call my own. And Papa was more than happy to allow me that extra room; which was the attic.
But it wasn't creepy or any thing, because I made sure that the room looked nice and felt nice for the things living in it. I asked Papa to make a bench for all my dolls to rest on. Of course he said yes!
But I made sure that there was one special spot for one of my favorite dolls: Charlie!
He was my very first boy doll that I ever got, and my tenth doll at the time. Charlie sat atop of all the others, probably making the other dolls very jealous! Every other doll was at the same sitting level as each other, except Charlie, who was higher and right below my attic window.
Charlie had white and blue striped pajamas, brown hair and blue eyes. He was about three feet tall, and he was from the WW2 era. Even though Charlie is supposed to resemble a boy, he had wrinkly skin for some reason, which was weird.
But I think that was why people didn't want him, because of his skin, but I think that is what made him special and unique! After I "adopted" Charlie, I became obsessed with collecting haunted objects, mostly dolls, but on occasion the miscellaneous picture or piece of jewelry, or what have you. That took up so much of my time, that any of my friends that I made over the years, faded away because I didn't pay enough time towards them, but Papa didn't mind. In fact, he encouraged me to collect more until I was satisfied!

However, no matter how many things that I collected, my mind would always drift off to Charlie. I would always play with him whenever I wasn't helping Papa out in his museum, or doing schoolwork. At first, I was afraid that the other objects would get jealous of him because he was getting played with too much, but, over time, I didn't really care what the other dolls "thought." Charlie consumed my time, that I didn't think about the other dolls and I let Charlie into my own room where I let him sit on one of my shelves across my bed.
Papa approved of the placement, and whenever I was happy, Papa was happy! Charlie ended up becoming apart of the family and we had a family portrait with him in it, even!  That was my favorite painting in the whole house; and it wasn't even haunted, which was a bonus! (We had haunted paintings in the museum as well)
Those were some of my fondest memories of my older house. We would have many adventures that was yet to come!