The Institution

Dear Clementine

Dear Clementine,

Death is inevitable, I knew that already. I was waiting for the day that I would leave the surface of this earth and rot in the dirt, but you tried to force the inevitable onto me. You chained me to the bottom of the ocean, used my last breath of air, and right when I thought I was gone, that chain was cut and I slowly, pathetically, drifted to the top, rescued by an unnamed sailor. I say "rescued" with hesitation, as that word implies it was done for my own good. But that wasn't how things should have ended. I shouldn't have made it, the unnamed sailor shouldn't have saved me. I know you know this, because we are thinking the same thing.

Regardless, I was the one thrown into this institution, not you. I am the one who has to suffer the endless tortures that come with the Green Door.

Daily, they wheel me in, and even the patients who's beds are located furthest away from the Green Door, suffer from my uncomfortable cries. I want to blame them all for not helping me, but how could I do that? They're in the same place as me. Same cold cells with no way to get out and a lifetime full of fear.

- Ruby.