I Believe You

Chapter Two

“Dad?” Sal can feel the smile on his face as he stares into his father’s eyes once more. His matching blue hair and blue eyes could make Sal smile anytime. “Hey, Sal.” He smiles and hugs his little boy. Once Sal lets go a cold object touches his skin. He looks to the right of him; the demon stands. “Dad! Dad! What is that?!” Henry is oblivious to the demon standing beside him and his son. The young Sal wants to run away, but he can’t move. His feet feel like cement bricks instead of his blue converse. “Dad! Look!” Suddenly the demon enters Sal through his mouth. The child gasps and almost stumbles over. His eyes are red, even the glass one. He can’t speak, he can’t control anything. It’s like his soul has been blocked from his body. Sal now has a knife in his hand. The poor soul on the inside cries; the cries turn into screams when Sal slits his father’s own throat. The demon disappears, leaving the child to watch his father die. He screams as the blood gushes out of his father’s neck. He tries grabbing his neck to stop the blood, but ends up pushing his father down instead. Screams echo throughout the dream world, as the boy falls to the ground with his dead father.

A singular scream echoes in the room, followed by quiet sobs. Sal slowly sits up when he realizes the nightmare is over. Even though he knows what is going to happen, he cannot control himself in the nightmare. A dripping noise distracts Sal from his dream. He looks down at the blood forming on his mattress from his nose. A sigh escapes his lips, and then a groan. A huge shot of pain goes through his skull. Around his eyes hurt and the bridge of his nose, along with the rest of his head. He tries standing, but it only makes it worse. “Ouch,” his butt hits the cement floor of the solitary room.

He spots an object forming in the corner of the room. A weird slushing noise along with it; like people are walking in the half melted snow on the side of the roads after a blizzard. Long blonde hair falls down the back of a young woman with barely any meat on her bones; she’s basically a walking skeleton. “Who…” Sal talking makes his headache even worse. “Gah, who are you?” She weakly smiles, “You can see me?” Sal holds onto his head; the pain is so bad he forgets to put on his mask. He’s oblivious to the fact he is mask-less in front of this random woman. “Yes, of course. How’d you get in this room?”

“I died in here,” she states with a small chuckle. Sal’s heart stops and his eyes widen, “No, you’re lying. That’s not-“ Sal inhales intensely through his teeth in pain. “You can only talk to me for a certain amount of time. If you talk to people like me for a long time it could possibly kill you. The first time is always the worst.”

“What are you talking about?!” The yelling almost makes his head explode. She shakes her head, “I’m a ghost silly. I died in this room a few years ago. I refused to eat and I eventually starved to death.”

“Oh…” Sal merely responds; his head is killing him, almost literally.

“So what are you in for?” Her question seems almost random. Sal shakes his head, “That’s… I… can’t…” The room goes black for a split second. The ghost is gone and Sal is left with a small headache and dry blood on his clothing and hands.

Another day goes by and another headache starts for Sal. He grunts and holds onto his head. The ghost lady appears again. “Hello again.”

“Hey, so why the fuck does this hurt so bad?”

“Because the power is strong. The building chose you.”

“Chose me?”

“Yes. It chose you to communicate with us. The people who died in here.”

“Can you leave here?”

“Random question, but no. We stay where we died. I can barely even leave solitary sometimes, but you eventually get the hang of it.”

“Oh.” The room goes quiet after Sal’s small response. The ghost clears her throat, “So I never caught your name; I mean I guess I could have gone through your files to find that out.”

“How if you didn’t know what name to look for?”

“Pictures?”

“True. I’m Sal. Sal Fisher. Who are you?”

“I’m Tiffany.”

“Why…” the pain shoots through Sal’s head like a hammer to his skull.

“Why what?”

“Why were you put in here?” Tiffany frowns at the question. Sal feels slight regret for the question. Then again she asked him yesterday. Finally, she answers, “Well, I was put in for conversion therapy, in 1954.”

“Woah… wait…ouch… you’re a…”

“Lesbian,” she finishes for him. “Yeah, back then it was pretty bad.

“I mean even in the 1990s people still despise it.”

“Woah? 1990s? Damn,” she pauses, “So what were you put in for?”

Sal hesitates, he really doesn’t know. He was just thrown in after his trial. “I honestly have no idea.”

“Ya know, I can go look for you.”

“That’d… be awesome!”

“Well, your nose is bleeding a lot worse now, I should probably go.”

“Wait, one more question.”

“Yeah?”

“Did you have a girlfriend before you were admitted?”

Tiffany pauses for a moment, a small smile forming on her lips as if she was reminiscing something. The smile grows and she puts a piece of hair behind her ear, “Yes… yes I did…” She disappears before Sal can even say anything. He smiles, because she seemed so happy about whoever she was with before she was admitted. He then frowns, realizing what hell an institution will put you through, even though it’s supposed to help you.

Tonight was different for Sal. He leans up against the wall and let his thoughts wonder about love interest. He never really had a relationship ever in his life. He probably would never have one because of what he did and where he is currently. Who’d love a psychopath killer? Absolutely no one, but- Suddenly the brown eyes pop into his head. The sad ones he locked with before being thrown into solitary. Who is that? Maybe I’ll meet him. Maybe Tiffany can find me some answers about him. Wait, why do I care about someone I haven’t even met yet? God, I’m crazy. Then again… I am in a fucking asylum.

As Sal falls asleep he thinks; tomorrow I can finally go into my room, and maybe I’ll make more friends. Alive or dead.