Echos In The Catacombs

Chapter 18: The Memories We Hold On To

A/N: I wrote this in year 11 using the prompt 'That was it. I was trapped...' This was before I even thought of the idea for Echos. 
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Riven's P.O.V

~Flashback~

That was it. I was trapped...Trapped in my own mind. You can call me crazy if you'd like. Honestly, I wouldn't mind being called crazy, it would free me from my curse of being called a freak.

But I want to tell you how I became like I am. So afraid to make a single sound for the fear that the monsters will find me. No they aren't the monsters that hide under your bed, that wait until you fall asleep so they can feed off your fear. These monsters are different. They can hear you if you make the slightest of noise.

Then there are the doctors, always asking me questions but never getting a reply. I can hear them saying "She's not getting any better." or "She's not human anymore." For they only see what's on the outside, nothing but a blank emotion and eyes that only show the darkest doorways, not the inside. The inside, the dark and lonely place where I answer the questions they ask but they can never hear me scream.

The monsters made me silent, but they never changed me. I was always someone who never spoke much because of others. Despite my lack of volume, everyone knew me as the one who never stopped smiling. I was always happy but no one ever really understood why. I always dreamed of talking and being able to say something of the craziest sorts. But my happiness is what I held closely, and I would never let it go.

"I would never..."

I was somehow able to say words or parts of broken sentences. They didn't seem to notice, they were too busy talking about my lack of anything.

I turned my head towards the window. The rustling of the leaves in the wind. I shuffled around in the chair I was sat on, it wasn't very comfy. The pins-and-needles stung and stabbed at me knees and feet. It took some time but I was able to stand up and walk to the window. I looked out at the trees in the distance as there were not many around this place. Its darkness and madness scared off any living thing that had any sense of sanity.

I looked down at my almost blue hands. How long had they kept me here? Years, months? No, only weeks. Two at most they said. Two weeks and no improvement. I don't see how any of us will improve being cooped up in this prison of a building. Locking people, who others deem insane, in an asylum for half their lives will only drive them further to the 'insane side.'

People like us. People like me. We aren't heard. We scream out for someone to help us only to get laughed at or worse, people run away. We get called insane. What gives them the right to call themselves 'normal'? We were 'normal' once but society thought otherwise. You can laugh at us but keeping us locked away won't help us. Are people blinded by their social standing? Just because you're a higher class doesn't mean you can't help. You think it does though, you think you can't help because your social life will be affected.

Liars. You are all liars. Lying to yourselves and others. Do you really think we aren't trying? The doctors lose hope in us after the first day! They don't care. I think they are just as bad as us. It's not mentally healthy to stand around listening to a bunch of screaming people day in day out. But no. It's not the screaming that you have to watch out for. It's the ones who stay silent. Like me. You can speak to them but they won't answer. They can be thinking of ways to kill everyone here and the doctors wouldn't even notice it. And yet there are ones who speak in riddles and nonsense. I bet many of the smartest people in the world couldn't decipher what they were saying.

But I can. I know these people. They are my family. I know how they feel. The rest of us 'patients' know how they feel. But the doctors and the 'normal' ones? They don't understand. Not one bit.

I don't feel anything. Except ...I can feel one thing. The urge to speak. Yes, that's it. I can try my hardest but there will be no luck. That means I cannot warn them about what will come to pass if they ignore the warnings. These screams aren't just nonsense, they're the warnings that these walls will soon be stained with blood that flows like a red river. And corpses will be scattered.

Madness is a gift, a gift that is given to those who will achieve great things, not a curse. Our sanity will not break us but these doctors will. I know what they're planning behind closed doors. They plan on sending us away, somewhere where we can train and then fight. A blood bath in an arena. Is it wise to send a child though? No one will know until it's too late. But it won't be too late. I will fight to protect my friends no matter the cost.

Sending mad people away to fight sounds, well, mad. But the bloodbath is simply what people fear most in this place, despite all the drawings the rest of them carve into the walls. It's not an arena but some doctors usually choose to describe it as one because, little do they know, even people who have lost their minds still have enough self-control to fight back even if they don't realise that they are.

Making a crazy person go even more crazy sounds almost impossible yetthey still manage it. The screams I hear are full of terror, like their worstfear has come to life, but occasionally I can hear people mutter about the'dead room' a place of no return some say. However some have been smart enoughto return from it, only through fighting back against whoever takes them there.Some of the people here, well the people nearer to me, have scars that looklike they came from a bear or a person with sharp tools. I've always wanted toask how they got them but I chose not to as I didn't want the poor souls torelive the horrible experience they were forced to endure.

~Flashback end~
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Hope you enjoyed Chapter 18 of Echos In The Catacombs
Chapter 19 should be out soon

Catch You Later~