Silence-- m.c.

3

Marley

Michael was freaking me out. Was he absolutely gorgeous? Yes. Was he a sweet heart? Yes. But was I ready to try and make friends? Not at all.

The asylum does something to people. Guilty or innocent, we're still people. And we were not treated like so. They starved us and refused us medication and abused us. I was upgraded to the mental hospital, rather than the asylum when more and more evidence turned up about Allison. It wasn't much better. I got a thicker blanket, an actual mattress on my bed, cleaner water, more bathroom privileges, and less tortures.

Being in the hospital was worse punishment than being in the asylum. The asylum certainly was not fun in any way, but at least there were other people there.

One of my biggest fears? Isolation and abandonment.

When Jay and I were small once, Mom and Dad took us camping to a little cabin by a lake. We made campfires, cooked s'mores, hotdogs, went fishing, and got to stay up late at night. One night, Mom and I had been sleeping and Jay was out night fishing with Dad on a small boat. Jay dropped his fishing rod into the water and Dad leaned over to get it, but the boat started toppling over and before both of them could fall, he just jumped in. His foot got caught on something in the water and he could not get out, so Jay called Mom on Dad's phone. Mom left me sleeping to take another boat out to help him.

I woke up in the night alone and thought my biggest fears, isolation and abandonment, had come true. I had a panic attack for the first time ever. When my parents and brother came back a two hours later, I had passed out cold on the kitchen floor, after I went to get a drink of water, hoping to calm myself. My heart rate was extremely fast and I was rushed into the Emergency Room immediately.

I was obviously saved but since then, I get panic attacks very easily and being in the nut house for eight months certainly did not help my case. When I had finally escaped the asylum, I needed to go see a therapist for a little while. Her name was Amanda and although I would not speak to her or tell her any of my issues going on inside my head or that I left back in the hospital, she helped me. The kind things that she said to me made me happy and feel a lot better about everything that had happened. As though I was almost... Normal.

But there was one memory that would forever be buried in the back of my mind. I don't think dying could let me escape this memory. This memory was the reason why I could no longer, or rather, would no long speak.

I could hear the thunder crack from outside the hard, stone walls as I felt the entire building shake. It was dinner time. Sometimes, we ate in our rooms. Sometimes, we ate in the cafeteria. Today was a cafeteria day.

Before me sat a glass of lukewarm, stale water, some very dry mashed potatoes, and a form of granulated beef. Oh and the little cup of jello with fruit in it, but the fruit looked more like someone's insides than something belonging in jello, so I didn't dare look at it for too long.

I picked around at my food, pretending to eat, glancing at the guards surrounding the door. Most of the patients had guards standing next to them, but due to my good and obedient behavior, I had been rewarded the freedom of sitting alone to eat and occasionally being allowed to walk freely through the halls. Although I rarely did the latter.

There were things at Walden Mental Institution that I would have been more than pleased to go my whole life without doing. Things like being forced to shower in front of filthy, old murderers. Things like being sick to the point where I'm nearly dead and the only reason they don't want me to die is so there's no extra space for more occupants. Things like hearing more and more incidents of murder, each more grotesque than the last.