Inside the Asylum
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- Parts 7
Ongoing39m
Last published Sun, Nov 2, 2014
These are the notes from Kendra Sutton. She was admitted to the Mental Institution of Springfield Missouri.
She wrote everyday of her hard journey. Starting here, this is what she's written
I'm 15. I'm locked in a room. Left alone with a notebook and pencil. No sharpener. No eraser. Probably so I can't kill myself with the blade of the sharpener or erase something. They want to know everything.
Dr. Whats-His-Face says I should write everything down but what should I write down?
Hi I'm Kendra and I tried to kill myself three times so my parents locked me up in this hell whole? I have a small bed and a thick blanket? There's a window across the hall but it only lets in a little bit of light? I can't control the lights? At 7:30 A.M. the lights turn on. At 7:30 P.M. the lights turn off. I get food at 7:45 A.M. noon and we eat "together" at 5? Is that what I should write?
Well here goes nothing.
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#568
hospital
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Hello. I’m Cassidy. I’m 16 years old, and I am helpless. I’m weak, defenseless and not to mention unassuming. I am utterly boring and uninteresting. I wouldn’t be surprised if God himself overlooked me. Maybe that’s why my life sucks so much. My face is dull and pale, and my hair is mousy brown. My eyes are black and my fingers are long and stringy. Once in junior high, a teacher likened me to ghost. I had wanted to tell her, “Yes. I remind myself of a ghost sometimes too.” But I didn’t say anything in return. I have one friend and even she doesn’t like me for me; only for the shiny new car my step dad bought me. Boys don’t notice me. And when they do it’s only to pick out my flaws and display them to everyone around. All in all, I am a sad and pathetic specimen of a human being. Why am I writing this? Because on June 3rd, 2011, at 12:31 am, I died.
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