kaleidoscope - MondayMonday.
Mondays are grey.
They swirl around, like smoke. Confusing and intricate, yet still plain. The patterns it makes are so interesting to watch, but they can be boring too. I sigh, swinging my legs out of the bed to spend the day twirling in the smoke.
Smokey, smokey smokey
I giggled as Roan absent-mindedly whirled around my room, smiling. Roan than nobody else can see. Kaleidoscope Roan. He makes me laugh. Its like having a friend who is always with me, but one that I keep to myself. Hes lovely most of the time, but sometimes
GET UP NOW!!!!!!!!!AIOFE!!!!!!!!!!!
My mothers voice shakes me roughly from my dream world. I stumbled out of bed and almost fell down the stairs in my hurry to escape my solitude. School was going to be boring today. Its a Monday. Grey Monday. Always boring, always grey. Blurry. Fast. Still smokey. No different from any other Monday.
No-one talked to me. Only Roan. As usual. He always talks to me.
The Asylum - Chapter 4the lights flickered away, fading into darkness and I am left alone again. Why did this always happen? The bathtub is uncomfortable, but it is to be my bed for the night. I can't leave, not until it has gone. The pitch black of the bathroom is a strange comfort to me, the only noise is an occasional muffled shriek of another patient and the sound of my only friend softly soothing me with his words. That voice, that musical voice, it is the only thing left of the outside world that remains a comfort to me. It is farmiliar, and far more real than the smiles on the nurses who try to persuade me to believe the contrary. I have previously mentioned my sinking into insanity, now I fear it has actually happened. The enemies in my dreams no longer remain there. They slip into reality and follow me round my daily life, whispering horrid remarks in my ear throughout my entire waking day. It is something I cannot bear for much longer. The razorblade lying on the sink beckons me, shall I give in?
hurt or homicide introductionClick
The telephone conversation ended abruptly, as I was left wondering what on earth was going on with my best friend. We shared everything, including secrets, and I hastened to ponder what was upsetting her. Have I done something? Has she stopped taking her medication? I dialled the number again and again, only to receive the same message of the two of us being the idiots that we normally are. When she still refused to answer the phone after several attempts at ringing her, I thought there was something wrong, but put it down to her being moody and left a message.
My intuitions were not wrong.
the asylum - chapter 3The isolation from the rest of society is almost killing me. I am used to being a sociable creature, with conversation and friends being the order of the day. Well, until me husband took over my life. There is absolutely nothing to do other than reminisce and sink deeper and deeper into my supposed dementia. The latter, I fear, is beginning to occur. I have such terrifying nightmares, dreams of running in corridors, being pursued by unknown enemies. I wake up with my nightdress damply clinging to my skin, with a friend sat by my side, singing me to sleep. He has come to me every night since the first incident with Edgar, my husband. He is my refuge, my solace, my companion. I want to prove to the nurses that he is real, but they never seem to see him. They are looking, but not seeing. Is he really real? Or did my demise from sanity begin before I entered into the monotone world of the Asylum.
Internal battlesThe night wont ever fade into day
Why wont these things just go away?
Why do they come and tease me so?
Confounded, I dont love it though.
The clock seems to tick on and on
I hope this voice will soon be gone
It never gives me any peace
Its comments seem to never cease
Its hatred fills up all my soul
Makes me obey its every call
Nothing will make it be okay
As nothing makes it go away
I know one day I will be free
But when its gone then where is me?
Whats left of me when its not hear?
Will the rest of me disappear?
Its in my room, behind the door
In terror I slide slowly down to the floor
It coos mean things and shouts abuse
Makes it seem like I cant refuse
I heave a sigh and break the skin
Will I be forgiven for this deadly sin?
What chance is there that they wont be mad?
The voices are the only ones wholl be glad
They will rejoice in breaking me
My crumbling pain, their remedy
The blood seeps through, calms me down
My face relaxes
the asylum - chapter 2 It was either go to bed or stay awake silently to avoid a punishment, so I lay in the uncomfortable bed and willed sleep or the daylight to come. In the end sleep came first.
I awoke to the feeling of being shaken and a formidable-looking nurse telling me sharply to wake up. The daylight shining against the white walls of my chamber made it seem garish and incredibly unwelcoming. Should I ever get out of this place, I would decorate my house so that there were absolutely no white walls, and as little white anywhere as possible. However, there is no time to daydream. I must get dressed and be in the dining hall before the breakfast gong goes.
Dressed for breakfast, I went to walk to the dining hall but found that I must be accompanied by a guard. I did not think this necessary as so far I had come