Chapter 5
In the hour that I had left, I thought about all the things that had happened in the past three years. Every day we did the same routine over and over again. I had become like a zombie, only knowing life on the inside. I would say that this asylum was worse the prison… oh yeah, it was that bad.
There was one memory that I would never forget… my first day of testing.
I had been omitted to the asylum only hours before testing. They had given me my room, and of course my name. They had given me a tour and told me the restrictions. They had a list that seemed to go on for hours.
From the outside the asylum doesn’t look so bad, dirty maybe, but that’s about it… from the inside though that was a new story. The walls were white and they would sweat in the summer. The lights were dim in all of the corridors. Each door was labeled a number and the name of the prisoner. For instance mine read: 13, Cassie Bori.
All of that was decent, then you meet the other side of the asylum and your worst nightmares arise.
I had been taken to room 510, and they told me I would be performing some exercises to see where I was mentally and physically.
First the doctor came in and gave me a seeing test and spelling test to see how well I performed cognitively. Then he gave me an article to read about the asylum.
March 3, 1987
In recent research, we have found that a many of the asylums victims have not shown any decency to the testing. The brain waves show strain, and could show signs of damage if testing was to continue. One patient, a Ms. Tessa Bori, did exceptionally well though. She will be sent to a private institution to further the testing. The doctors have found that individually the other patients, even in groups, could not surpass any of the tests Ms. Bori performed by herself. …..
The rest of the article was missing. Tessa Bori, was a great- great- grandmother to my mother. The article sent shivers down my spine. I didn’t know what this meant, or if it had any connections to me.
The doctor told me I performed exceptionally well and that we would move onto the next set of tests.
They moved me into a room and into a chair that looked like it had once been used for electric shock.
Well, little did I know that it still was.
They strapped me in and put a small soccer ball on my lap. Then left the room.
From the monitor in front of me a face appeared. “You will be instructed to do various tasks with the ball you were given. If at any point you drop the ball, you will receive a small shock. Each time it will be worse. Try not to move your upper body to much, and remember to keep the ball off the floor. You may begin.”
Another voice behind me made me jump. This was much deeper, and huskier then the previous. “First, you will just bounce the ball upon your knees.”
I did as I was instructed. At first the ball moved an awful lot making the bouncing part difficult. But I managed. Not once did I drop the ball.
“Next, you will kick the ball up in the air with your feet. REMEMBER, you must not drop the ball.”
And so I tried. Very hard did I try, not to drop the ball. The first few times I had the hang of just kicking it up. Then it went sporadic and was all over the place. The last kick went a little too far and it hit the ground.
I received a shock.
It was a small shock but it sent a pain up my spine. I cringed.
“You dropped the ball.”
The pain went away and once again I was instructed.
“Now you will only use one leg to bounce the ball. You may bounce it between either or, but you may not use both at once.”
I concentrated really hard. I did not want another electric shock. The shock reminded me of a book I read once; they electrocuted babies to teach them that even the pretty things in society were evil. I think the book was called “Brave New World”. I was now the baby and the soccer ball, my pretty object.
I started to kick with my right and manage for about 5 minutes before the stiffness of my leg began to kick in, so I moved the ball to my left and started again. After every 5 minutes I had to switch, I had to concentrate harder than ever so that I did not drop the ball. A stop-clock appeared on the screen. 10:00. Ten minutes left; okay, I can do this. I thought.
The door opened and a man bounce a ball entered. He circled the room, and then began singing. I cringed, now distracted I thought I would drop the ball. Five minutes left…
He started yelling at me.
He threw the ball past my head.
I have to concentrate I thought. No more shock, please.
One minute left…
He came up and was now standing next to me beating on the chair. I concentrated on my legs and the ball. Right, left, right, left… I was doing just fine. 10…9…8…7… almost done I thought. Right, left, right. Then he hit me. And I dropped the ball. No shock came; I looked at the clock, 5...4... then the shock. I had almost done it, and survived another shock. I wanted to punch him. The rage was building up inside of me.
“I told you not to drop the ball.”
I closed my eyes, I couldn’t move now but when they untangled me… that man was about to receive his death wish.
No, I thought. That’s exactly what they want. Anger.
The man with the ball left. Silence once again. A short lady came in and unhooked my arms, and immediately stepped back. Apparently she had been hit before, she had bruises lining her face.
When I did not hit her, she sighed. She left the room.
I sat for another 10 minutes. I could tell they were watching me. I was not going to give in.
As I remember that day, I felt sick. It was only one of many days like that. Some days I got more shocks. Every day the activities got worse, and the shocks did too.
There was a knock at my door.
The little lady walked in, along with a guard.
So much for my hour, I thought. The guard ordered me to come along. The lady said nothing. We walked through the halls of the asylum. We were heading towards the front door, towards freedom.
