Its been two weeks since I last saw Richard Brent. I cant stop thinking about what he said, that he knows what Ive been through. Honestly I call bullshit. He was just saying that. Or was he? I don't know what to think anymore.
My doctors bring me to the cafeteria in my wheelchair. Ive decided to call this chair surely. I'm not really sure whether or not I'm going crazy by naming this wheelchair, or if its a sign that I'm getting a little bit of my dead imagination back. I guess I'll go with the glass half full and say I'm getting my imagination back.
I get back to my room and I sit on my freshly made bed with clean white linen. The cuisine is pretty basic for today's lunch. Greenbeans and corn. The doctor feeds me the food, which has a decent flavor. Without thinking I start talking. "Bring him back. Richard Brent." The doctors rarely ever speak to the patients, but as he keeps feeding me the vegetables he replys "we will give him a call." A small smile breaks on my face, buy is quickly erased when an alarm sounds.
The doctor quickly straps me to the bed and leaves the room. He didn't even latch the door shut. Suddenly, a crazy patient in a white hospital gown stumbles into my room. You can head the yelling of the guards in the distance. The woman has a look in her eye that is as crazy but relaxed. She leans down and whispers in my ear. "I'm gonna find you again. But this time I will kill you." The guards inject her with the same stuff they knocked me out with.
That night was the worst night Ive had in a long time. For some reason what that woman said to me had a large impact. "This time I will kill you." I think I know what she was talking about, but I thought this shit was over.
Night terrors are the least of my problems. The dark corners bring a chill through my body. As of right now I don't know what's real and what's my psychotic brain. I try and block out the voices but when they scream I am forced to listen. I let out a scream and I wake up to guards. A dream. That's all it was. It seemed so real. All of it was like torture, constant screaming in my ear and the faces. God those faces, they are what nightmares are made of.
