Wink Murder

The asylum

You don't want to be in an asylum. Especially one with a murderer in it. No one plans to end up all alone, in the dark, with blood poring out of your chest. Dead. But sometimes life doesn't go the way you've planned.

I could tell you my name I suppose. But names aren't important. I could tell you how I came to be staring at my brothers limp body, lying on the ground. I could tell you why I'm in an asylum. I could tell you a lot of things. Or I could make you wait. Just like in wink murder.

Until then I'll tell you about where I am. Stone gate asylum. For people who make baby's cry. You've got to admit that's funny. What's better than a teeny tiny scrunched up face bawling into a squishy toy? No laughing? I guess that's why I'm not a comedian.

In total there are two hundred people here. I'm in top security of course. We each are in our own room, which we spend twenty three hours a day in. Trapped. See? It's not our fault we are mad. Each day at noon we are let out for precisely on hour, to eat and excercise. We would probably be let out more if we stopped trying to eat each other. I'll try that nextime. Other than that it's all just long dark corridors, that seemingly have no end. Lunch is the same slimy mush each day- but PLEASE don't make me talk about that! It's not all bad though. Actually, scrap that, it's awful. The same thing every day. Until Rafal's death...