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Rated: ASR · Book · Death · #1749675
My first real book.
#717450 added February 8, 2011 at 9:40pm
Restrictions: None
Chapter 3:
I get to my door. Number twenty-two is what the door says. The letters are a little scratch- Defiantly not new at all. There is a sign on the door that reads,"Do not enter." Should I obey and get out of here? I take a deep breathe, and quickly turn around to leave. Before I get even two steps, Sandra pops out of nowhere.
         "Going somewhere so soon?" She smiles.
         "Oh..n..no...ma..ma'am Is...the..this the right room?" I studded
         Her smiles sends chills up and down my spine. I quiver. "Yes it is," Sandra says.
         I smile, and face back toward the door. I close my eyes, and have a flashback of this morning. I heard everything in my head- Down to my blood thirsty scream. Quickly my eyes shot open, and I pushed on the door. It opens slowly and with a squeak. I shudder. I see Sarah standing in the bedroom, and she stares attentive at me. I try to flash her a smile, but she continues to glare. I take a few steps into the room as she stares harder. My heart races. I look around the room silently.
         "You shouldn't be here," Sarah says.
         I look at her. "What?"
         She stands up and walks toward me. "You need to leave. Now."
         I smell her breath. It is rather foul. I cringe. "Why?"
         She snarls. "I mean it."
         I smile. "Okay," I around her and go further into the room. "This is my bed, right?"
         She turns to me with a mean look. "NO! LEAVE!"
         I sigh. "You don't get it do you?" I put my suitcase down and get closer to her. "I am not leaving, deal with it."
         We stare at each other We get so close; I feel her nose on mine. I finally back away, grab my bag, and set it on the empty bed.
         Sarah screams, "I WARNED YOU!"
         I give her a surprised look. "Why do you want me to leave so badly?"
         She does a quick change of character. "Uh...I...ca...can't really...tell you that actually."
         I shrug. "Haha, yeah. Whatever. I'm staying; Get use to me."
         She storms out of the room, and a chuckle. My bed smells of foul odors that almost make me puke. I stand in the room alone, and feel a little creeped out. After minutes I decide to go look around. I walk toward the door and the floor creaks. I feel someone behind me. They are breathing down my neck. I turn around and gasp as I see a boy there. He is about ten, and has blonde hair.
         "Hi, I am Garrett. What is your name?" He asks with a smile.
         I hold my hand flat against my heart to feel it beating quickly. "I am Kyra."
         He smile wider. "Did you see Sarah?" His eyes get wide.
         "Yes I did. Why?" I try to be cheerful.
         His smile fades. "No you didn't."
         Mine fades as well. "Why not?"
         He frowns and turns around. He walks out the door in silence.
         My heart starts to pound. I look around the room. I silently walk back over to my bed, and lay down. I look up at the ceiling until I fall asleep.

         “Wake up,” I am woken up suddenly by Sarah who has a knife to my throat. “Don't scream or say a word or I'll kill you right here.”
         I nod.
         “Are you going to cooperate?” Sarah says. “Good! Now come with me.”
         We stand up and start to walk toward the door. Her hand if over my mouth,  and the knife is on my neck. Tears well up in my eyes. I don't know where she is talking me; I really don't think I want to know. We get out into the hall and she looks both ways. We head up the stairs. The stairs creek with every step we both take. I mumble under her sweaty hand.
         “Shut up,” She whispers. “I will kill you. That's why I am here.”
         I am trying to talk, but every time I do Sarah digs her knee into my spinal cord. We get up the and she sits me down on a chair. She takes her hand off my mouth and the knife off my throat.
         “You need to shut up. Seriously, would you like to die?” She says staring at me.
         I stare at her in confusion. “Why are you doing this?”
         She squints her eyes at me, then quickly looks away. “I am crazy. I need to murder people. It is in my blood.” She pauses, “Why are you here?”
         “Long story,” I say.
         “You are just plain old crazy aren't you?” She says.
         She look sat me with an evil grin. “Huh?” I ask.
         “Only the craziest go here. You had to of done something really bad.” She says.
         I stare at her. “This is an orphanage. Not a looney house.”
         She laughs. “Is that what you thi...”
         Sandra shows up and interrupts her, “What are you two doing up here?”
         Sarah look at her and puts the knife behind her back. “Nothing.”
         I sit in silence.
         “Go back to bed, girls,” Sandra replies.
         Sarah vanishes down the stairs, and I make my way down slowly; Never taking my eyes off Sandra.
         I get to my room, where the door is closed. I open it, and Sarah is sitting on her bed. She throws the knife up in the air, and the catches it as it comes down. The blade slices her hand multiple times, but she doesn't cringe. She watched me walk to my bed.
         “Good job. I suggest you keep everything that happens in here to yourself. Or else,” She says.
         I nod and sit on my bed. I lay down, and stare at the ceiling again. I quickly fall asleep.

         Not even ten minutes later I wake up. I am faced toward Sarah, and she doesn't notice I am awake. I see her with the knife. She digs it into her skin over and over again. Blood drips all over her, and down the side of her bed. Her face is covered in tears, and arm, is covered in blood. I sit up, run to her, and grab the knife away.
         “What the hell are you doing?!?” I yell.
         She stands up quickly with eyes of hate. “Give that back.”
         “No! Not until you tell me what you re doing and why!” I say.
         She reaches for the knife; I pull away. Blood drips on me.
         “It feels good,” She mumbles.
         I put the knife under my butt, and sit on my bed. “How could that possibly feel good? Look at your arm, Sarah. You are drenched in blood.”
         She sits on her bed and stares at me. The blood pour out of her arm. “Have you even bed addicted to anything?”
         “What does that have to do with this?” I point to her arm.
         “Well, I cut. Some people are addicted to cigarettes, some are addicted to alcohol. People get addicted to drugs, and obese people are addicted to food. It's just like that, Except I am addicted to the sensation of cutting. To me, it feels fantastic to see the blood, and the afterward scar,” She explains.
         I am speechless. “Oh my god. That is why you are here?” I ask.
         She nods. “My mom and dad told me I was ungrateful and that I have problems. They called the police on me and told them to get me and lock me up. The police told my parents that I couldn't be locked up if they didn't want me...”
         I interrupt her, “So they send you to an orphanage?”
         She stares at me. “Are you stupid? This is not an orphanage. What in gods name made you think that?”
         “Uhh?” I give her a weird look.
         She stands up and walks closer to me. “You are not in an orphanage, Kyra. This is a mental hospital.”
         “Uhm, what?” I ask in desperate confusion.
         She backs up and then sits on her bed. “People lied to you, Kyra.”
         I stare at her. I don't believe her. I stand up and leave the bedroom in anger. I slam the door shut as I step out into the hallway. There is nothing to hear, and I realize that Sarah is not lying. This was all a game, a set up, just a scam. I am here, and I am crazy. I know now, that nobody cares for me. I should've killed myself when I had the chance. I stand in silence thinking to myself.  I stand here, and see what I really am, and how messed up my head it. Before I knew it, Sandra had appeared next to me.
         “What are you doing, Kyra?” She asks.
         I don't look at her; Instead I keep my gaze fixed on the staircase rail. “Where am I?” 
         “What?” She asks.
         I stare at her. All the muscles in my face are flexed, and I can feel the rude expression on my face. “Where am I, Sandra?”
         She stands in silence, just staring at me.
         I scream, and then turn back into my room. I slam the door shut behind me. I get into the room, and Sarah is missing. I notice that the knife is too. I head to the bathroom that we share with the little boy, Garrett. The floors creak and crack every time I lay my foot on it's surface. I get to the bathroom, where the door is shut and locked. I grab the door knob, but before I can turn it; I lose myself. I faint.

         Hours later, I awake. In the same spot. The bathroom door is open, and it is also vacant. I sit up and rub my head. I face toward the beds to see if Sarah is back yet. She is. She is sitting on her bed. Sarah is reading a magazine. I stand up and brush myself off. I walk to my bed, I sit on it, and then stare at Sarah.
         I ask her, “What are you doing?”
         “What do you mean, Kyra?” She doesn't even look at me. Instead she stares deep into the pages of the magazine.
         “I mean.” I ask, “Why are you in a mental institution?”
         She lays the magazine on her lap and looks at me with a look of no expression. “I guess I am hear for the same reason everyone else is.”
         I give her a confused look. “What's that reason in your opinion?”
         “We are all crazy,” She stands up. “We all have tried to kill ourselves, or other people because of our problems. We all need special care,” She goes and starts out the only window in the bedroom. I follow her with my eyes. “We have no way out. Until we are better,” She faces me. “Do you want to be better?”
         I look up at her. “There's nothing wrong with me.”
         She stares hard at me, and then turns back to the window with a jerk. “I am sure that there's got to be something.”
         I think to myself. “I have schizophrenia.”
         She faces me, and smiles. “Do they tell you to die, too?”
         I pause under my breath. “They don't. They just scare me.”
         Her smile fades. “You should try cutting,” She tosses the knife. “It helps.”
         I hold it in my right hand, and stare at Sarah. She goes back to her bed. “I can't.” I turn my body to face her again.
         “Too scared? We all were at first,” She chuckles.
         “Huh?” I mumble. “This is not funny. You are scaring me Sarah!”
         She chuckles again. “I am not trying to. I am just saying; With a lifeless body, no heart beat, and no blood pulsation through your veins; It doesn't hurt one bit.”
         I put the knife on my bed, and stare at her. “What are you talking about?”
         “You don't get it do you?” She asks.
         I just continue to stare.
         “I am not like you. Sandra's my mother. I...I am dead,” She smiles.
         My eyes widen, and I stand up slowly. I back up to the bedroom door; I don't take my eyes off of her. Behind me I feel for the doorknob. I am in complete shock. I grab the door knob and twist it  in all directions. I try to get it open and not take my yes off of Sarah. She stares at me with the same smile. In one swift move I turn, face the door, open it, and the slam it behind me. I sit down with my back still on the door and breathe heavily. I haven't had my pills for a long time, or food. I cover my ears. I can hear them talking to me. They are yelling and screaming at me. I am not talking about people; I mean the voices in my head. They are yelling. The words are unclear. I try to drown them out. I scream and kick the ground. I put my hands over my ears. I try to cup them to get the sounds out. They just get louder; The words get more legible.
         “Die,” The voice says. “No one wants you hear.” They grow louder. “Kill yourself!”
         “NO!!!” I scream.  A tear stings the corner of my eye. I feel more roll down my cheeks into the corner of my mouth. “SHUT UP!”
         I close my eyes, kick, and scream.
         Sarah shakes me, “Kyra! KYRA! Calm down. Take a deep breath!”
         I look at her with a tear stained face. I breathe in and out. Breath after breath, I take in and let out. I regain my train of thought and start breathing regularly again. I stare at Sarah with a red, blotchy face.
         “Are you alright?” She asks.
         I breathe. “You...are...you're dead?”
         “I am. Do not be scared though. I know what you're feeling right now,” She replies. She grabs my hand, “Stand up.”
         I stand and follow her back into the room. She sets me on the bed and hands me the knife again. I drop it. “I don't want it.”
         She picks it up and opens my hand. “Yes you do.” She sets the knife in the cup of my hand then clasps my fingers around it.
         I grasp it tightly and stare at it. “What good with this do?”
         Sarah says, “It is release. I promise. It feels great. Start out by barely pushing. Just draw blood. I swear. It helps. Just do it.”
         I hold the handle on the knife. I see my reflection in the silver blade I stare at my face.
         The voice speaks again inside my head. “Just do it. Cut all the way and end your life.”
         I breathe in deeply. I put the sharp end of the blade onto the skin under my palm. I softly trace my main vain up and down my arm. The reflection of myself moves. I stop right on top of the vain and close my eyes. I put pressure on the knife, and feel a sharp pain on my wrist. I open my eyes, feel the warm blood escape, and feel relief. Sarah was correct. I put the knife on my lap and see the blood make a bubble on my wrist and I watch it pop. Warmth fills my body, and my heart beats regularly for once. I look at Sarah, and smile.
         Ten minutes after watching the bleeding Sarah speaks. “How did that feel?”
         I sighed. “Honestly, the best sensation I have ever felt. I have fallen in love.” I look at her. “With the blade.”
         She smiles at me and nods. “I told you so.”
         I smile back. “I am tired now. I am going to bed.” I roll over, close my eyes, and then think to myself; I am spending the night with the dead girl.
© Copyright 2011 Mariah Shaye (UN: mariah_shaye at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Mariah Shaye has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
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