Mind's Echo

Shelly

"Wait just a damn minute, mister! Get your damn hand out of there!" Shelly demanded angrily, reaching into her pocket to get her switchblade knife. She flicked it open, and quickly brought it around to his face in a menacing, serious gesture. "Now, stop this friggin' car, and let me out ... Now!"

The man slammed on his brakes, bringing the car to a jolting halt. "No need for that, missy! I gave you the ride, you're supposed to put out. That there is the rules of the road, or don't you know anything?!" the man spat out in unapologetic annoyance, slapping her hand away.

Shelly opened the car door and jumped out, her backpack clutched tightly in her hands. Slamming the door, she shot the man the bird while kicking the door. She watched in frustrated anger as he sped away, his back tires shooting up dirt and bits of gravel.

"Asshole!" she raged at him, watching his car, and her chance to get to the nearest town, grow smaller, then fade away to nothing.

Sighing, she began to walk down the deserted two-lane highway, reluctant but determined. The sun was slowly sinking in the horizon, and she knew she only had about two more hours left of sunlight. Good thing it's late summer, or I wouldn't last the night, she thought, pulling her long-sleeved button-down shirt closer to her neck. Tennessee nights could be chilly, even in summer and especially with a storm on the horizon, so she picked up her pace. The man had left her stranded in the middle of nowhere, and she did not even know where the next town was. The best she could hope for was another car to pick her up.

An hour later, she was about to give up hope when she saw a sign ahead. "Clarkmann Home for the Mentally Insane," she read out loud, shaking her head, then laughing. "Just my luck. I am in the middle of the woods, the middle of nowhere, and what do I find? A damn nuthouse! I guess beggars can't be choosers, though!"

She turned down the narrow dirt drive, and walked about a half a mile until she came upon a large rundown house that had been abandoned for quite some time. It was extremely creepy looking, with its faded brick exterior and broken windows. The small, overgrown cemetery to the right of the dilapidated structure, with its moss-covered, askew headstones, didn't help, either, and Shelly hesitated. She had always been leery of old houses, and certainly did not want to enter a mental hospital, but she did not seem to have much of a choice in the matter. The light was fading fast, and it was either enter, or stay outside. Hearing the night animals begin to make themselves known, she decided to take her chances with the asylum ...