I couldn't sleep all night. I couldn't stop the wheels and cogs in my head from turning and turning. I knew that name. I knew that face. I've seen that face before. Somewhere.......a long time ago.......who could he be? I twitched when I heard someone. "Alice, the toast'll get cold. What're you thinking about?" I heard Macy's voice. I remembered where I was. Around the table. Eating breakfast. Instead of watching someone, I was staring into space. I snapped back into reality.
"Oh...nothing. Sleep." I yawned.
"Didn't sleep last night, did you?" I shook my head. "Thinking about something particularly interesting?" Should I tell them? Maybe? I'm not sure........Oh, what the hell.
"I.......I got a visitor last night." I sighed.
"A....visitor?" She asked. No one else seemed to be paying attention.
"This guy blindfolded me and asked me why people do evil things."
"The hell? Did you get a name?"
"He said........he said his name was James." My voice shrank to a whisper.
"What?" She came a little closer.
"I said James Collin!" I said a little louder, above the other conversation. Glass broke. Shards of little broken glass pieces flew across the table from the other end. Instinctively, I pulled my hands up to block my face. Everyone stopped talking. I looked up, expecting an enraged David, but it wasn't that. There, on the other end of the table, was Scream, with a somewhat angry expression, and a cut on his palm, blood slowly trickling down his wrist. He got up and left. Max looked bored.
"Should we follow him?"
"No. He'll sort it out himself." David replied.
"What got him angry?"
"No idea. Something Macy or Alice said." How can they be so inconsiderate?
"I'll follow him, if that's alright with you." They just nodded and continued with their usual morning conversation, whatever that was. I stepped out into the corridor to find him still walking down the hallway, thank god. I followed him, as I said I would. He stopped randomly, and turned around to face me, though I couldn't see his eyes since he was looking at the ground, his hair covering them. "Are you al- ---"
"You. You said a name. How do you know that name?" I heard his voice for the first time. It was really just a very hoarse whisper. But why was he interested in the name?
"I....I heard it."
"From whom?"
"From the guy himself." He looked up. Blue eyes. Icy blue eyes. Open wide. Something I knew well in them. Panic. His breaths sped up. "What does it mean to you?"
"When did you hear the name?" Answering questions with questions. Lovely. We're off to a great start.
"Last ni--"
"He was here!?" He didn't just look panicked. He looked terrified.
"Ye...yes......" I gulped. A drop of blood fell from his wrist. "Are you alright?" I pointed at it. He lifted the wrist to his face, then started making a weird noise. It wasn't a scream, that's for sure.
"I'm fine. I haven't seen my blood in a long time." I realized the noise was giggling. Laughter. He's out of his mind. Says the girl who hears voices. Fuck off. This guy must have seen much worse to scream like he does if he laughs at his blood.
"Why do you scream?" I blurted out. I couldn't help it. He stopped laughing.
"It's.....it's personal. Now please leave." And so I did. I got something. Though it was something I was trying to avoid. New questions.
"He talked?" Macy asked.
"Yes. He talked. Well, whispered, and laughed."
"You made him laugh?"
"Not really. He was laughing at his own blood."
"Well, nuts. Bye!" She walked off. Just walked off. End a conversation and walk off. I don't know what society is now. I decided to go on a walk myself. For the first time, I exited the building. Frost was covering the ground, as well as a few patches of snow. It was snowing. I didn't want to look at it. It reminded me of the ashes of the asylum. I looked around at the surrounding forest, then stopped on one tree. There was a purple piece of paper on the tree. I walked closer to it. Yep. A purple sheet of paper with black writing on it, taped to the bark of the tree. Wait....I looked at the writing closer, then stumbled back in horror. The letter was written in my old handwriting, starting with the words
Dear James,
YOU ARE READING
Psychotic
Horreur[SEQUEL] It's been a year since they took her to the asylum. It's been a year since she last saw David, or anyone associated with him. It's been a year since she killed someone........but they still won't let her out. Why? She's insane.....she's psy...
