Darlington Asylum for Wayward Girls

Prologue

Hope you enjoy this little prologue :3 This is inspired by Miss Emilie Autumn & her book 'The Asylum for Wayward Girls' <3

February 14, 1841

Dear Diary,

    I was admitted into Darlington Asylum for Wayward Girls today. My memory is vague from the heavy sedation, but I can still hear my Mother crying out for her dear daughter, begging for the pain & suffering to end. I don't remember much after that except two large men dressed in white gripping me by the arms & leading me into the asylum. I kicked, screamed, & fought with all I had. They were so strong, I couldn't break free. I remember scratching one of the men on the face, breaking the skin & leaving three bloody marks down his left cheek. He released his grip & held his hand up to his face, implying I was a crazy bitch. He then backhanded me.

    "That will teach you to be quiet."  He grumbled, grabbing my arm once again. This time, tightening his grip. I didn't  fight back, knowing it would only result in more pain. A doctor came & examined me,as if I was a show dog rather than a human being.

"This one is feisty." One of the men said, smirking sexually at me. The doctor leaned in, his face inches from mine. I could smell death all over him & see the twisted look in his soulless eyes.

"Don't you want to be sedated? Don't you want to ease this pain? If it is not effective, then we will electro-shock your brain." He whispered, his foul breath suffocating my nostrils. I spat in his face.

"I'd rather go to hell." I growled, beginning to fight once more. He wiped his face & ordered for me to be restrained. The men threw me on a bed, holding me down with five leather straps.

    "LET ME GO!" I screamed, kicking my feet wildly, hitting the men from time to time. The doctor stabbed a needle into my arm, pushing a unknown poison into my veins. I let out a scream in agony & pain.  After about a minute or two, my body started to feel tingly & my sight started to go. At some point I guess I fell asleep because the next thing I remember was waking up in a room that was stark as a desolate wasteland, with the vaporous breath of the broken ventilation system wheezing violently.

    The cold metal chamber seemed to be filled with ghosts, memories of this prison's gory past as I sat there, just trying to figure things out. My bloody knuckles were the color of raw fury & the walls were stained with the rancid leftovers of whatever terrible thing I'd just done. What have I done? Why was I casted away to this living hell on Earth? I'm not insane, am I? Could I have really done all those things I was accused of doing? I mustn't be weak, I must be strong. It may be my only way of surviving. God help me, I want my innocence back...Is that too much to ask?

,Elsie