Mind Or Matter

Chapter Fifty Six

I regained consciousness right as they tossed me into a small, white cell. A single, small window stuck out awkwardly above the cot.

"Back in Miami, pretty boy!" a deep voice called from behind me right before the door slammed shut.

I started skidding forward, lost balance, and fell to the cement floor. Catching myself with my palms, I felt pain shoot up to my elbows. My hands bleeding up to my wrist, I sat in an awkward, crossed-leg position, feeling hot tears coming out.

Piecing together everything that had recently happened to me, I checked the time and date on my digital watch, surprised that the people hadn't confiscated it. Saturday, November 16th, 6:48 pm.

Okay, don't panic – Candi's dead, your brother is missing, and you have no idea where you are-

Miami! The guard had said that I was in Miami! But... why?

My head was aching. I regretted not paying close enough attention to Candi; I regretted not taking her away from

(whoever)

whatever she had been talking to right before she died.

Was it a Demon? I wondered, wiping a few tears away, leaving blood below my eyes in place of them. No, if it was a Demon I'd be able to see it. No, this could've only been one thing...

...Arianna...

I grunted, my voice turning into a growl of rage. Jumping up onto my feet, I ran towards the cot, punching the surface.

Why did I think it would be soft, I wonder?

My knuckles cracked, and shock rushed up to my shoulder. The mattress of the cot was about as hard as a dining room table. How do people sleep on these things? I thought, cursing out loud and holding my wounded hand.

I didn't want to continue screaming. This place seemed like a prison to me, and I didn't want security guards to come in and beat me or something.

But I never got arrested; I never rode in a police car.

But I did remember hearing sirens, lying down, my brain burning and tingling painfully.

Is this an asylum? I shivered, suddenly remembering the hill I used to read on outside the nuthouse in Miami. Is this the Miami Mental Hospital?!

Not knowing what else to do, I started to cry for help. "SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! PLEASE! I DON'T KNOW WHERE I AM!"

Suddenly, somebody thumped on my cell's door. "Pipe down in there, Mr. Harker!"

I ran up to the door, knocking on it. "Hello?" I paused for a moment, breathing quickly. "Do you work here? Can you tell me exactly where I am and why I am here?" I tried to sound as polite as possible, but I didn't even bother to hide the panic in my voice.

Silence.

"Mr. William Lewis Harker, you be taken to the Miami Mental Hospital after a clear Schizophrenic illusion in Central Park. Since you held residence in Miami and not New York, you were brought here." A pause, then the man coughed, clearing his throat. "Well, have a good evening," he finished awkwardly. I could hear his footsteps start to fade as he left.

6:57 pm. I decided to go to sleep, letting my tired body onto the cot, trying to forget about the horrible day I had.

By 7:00, I was fast asleep, dreaming of the girl that I used to spend every second of my day with.