Jeff Is My Killer (A Jeff The Killer Love Story)

They're Coming For Me

I sat in the corner of the padded room with my head in my hands. Why had they taken me from my family? Why did it have to be like this? Why couldn't I have stayed with them!?

I wasn't crazy! I WASNT CRAZY! THEY HAS NO RIGHT TO TAKE ME!!!

I let out a laugh, filling the room. I hoped the hidden cameras would hear it. Let them know that they did this to me.

I slammed my fists into the wall. It was all Jeff's fault. He was the one that made me go crazy in the first place.

Maybe I should have just killed myself when I had the chance. I wouldn't have ended up in this hellhole of an insane asylum.

I could have done it easily, in the blink of an eye. My parents had locked me in. They wouldn't have known. I could have picked up one of the pieces of broken glass on the floor, and ended it.

I would've been dead by the time the doctors came to take me away to this asylum.

Hell, maybe I should've jumped out my window and ran. Ran far, far away into the woods, where no one would ever find me. Maybe I could have even met Jeff.

That was crazy. I was crazy.

I shook my head in disbelief, laughing once again at these thoughts circulating in my mind. I MUST be insane.

Suddenly, a door opened from the side of the wall, and a woman wearing a short, pale white dress emerged. Her brown hair was held up in a tight ponytail, giving her the look of someone who didn't go easy on newcomers.

Her shoes scuffed on the soft floor of my room, and she looked around in disgust, her eyes gazing around bored, until they settled on me.

I met her gaze, but looked down after a moment, shifting in unease.

She clicked her tongue in a sign of annoyance, and sighed, taking a deep breath.

"Mikayla, come with me. We have some questions we would like to ask you in the main room."

She turned abruptly on her heel, not waiting for an answer and walked back out the door.

I staggered to my feet and bounded after her in long strides, listening to the click of her shoes on the polished tile floor.

I walked behind her, keeping my head low, knowing other doctors were watching me, judging me.

I'll kill them all.

•§•

As we entered the main room, I finally raised my head.

It was a fairly large room, various chairs and couches scattered around the perimeter. The mismatched furniture seemed to give off a dark vibe, and I shivered.

It didn't feel like a home at all.

The photographs (clearly bolted to the wall for everyone's safety) contained a variety of people. They were holding up a banner with the asylum's name on it, stating, "Thank you redwood hospital, for making me happy again."

I studied their faces individually, a huge grin stretched across each one.

They were fake.

Their smiles were fake. Their laughter was fake. It was all forced, bringing with it a sense of dread and discomfort.

I ripped my gaze away from the photos, and continued to follow the nurse until she sat down in a circle of chairs, rolling her eyes as I continued to stand there awkwardly. She patted the seat next to her, sighing with a bored expression, as if she was a very impatient mother talking to a 3 year old.