Screaming Silence

When Jonny died a part of me died with him. Seeing the casket being lowered into the ground, I felt an odd feeling, like I was watching myself being lowered into the ground, and not him. As I stood watching his parents cry and the preacher saying final farewells, I came to the decision in my life that I would never love anyone like I had loved Jonny.

It has been almost a week since the funeral and I still go over the accident in my mind. I wake up every morning and wonder why I am still alive and breathing. Why I escaped with nothing but a scratch and Jonny had to die. I don't know how I am going to live with myself. The guilt is pressing on me and I feel as if I am suffocating. It would just be better if I had died too.
I look around the room. The walls are black, I guess it is to add to the feeling of dispair that the asylum brings. They put me in this god-forsaken place after I began to have so call hallucinations at the funeral. I am not crazy I tell you!
Jonny was sitting up in his coffin, one of his eyes was popped out from being his through the eye with a splint of wood. The entire left side of his face was a burnt lifeless shell and there was a long gash along the right side of his face from the shattering of the windows. His gaze really did catch mine! Please don't think I am crazy, I know what I saw. When his eye caught mine, he mouthed, "Its all your fault."
I remember nothing after that. I was told that I just burst out crying. No one thought anything of it, its was a funeral after all. Apparently, there was no need for concern until, how did they describe it, I flew off the pew and up to Jonny's coffin and started begging for forgiveness and screaming how sorry I was.
As I said before, of the event that was told to me, I have no rememberance. The first thing that I remember is lying on this cold hard floor in this black room that is now mine. There is almost no source of light, with the exception of the two small windows near the, as I estimate, ten foot ceiling. I do wish that they were not there. At times I see Jonny's dead lifeless face peering at me. Laughing at me, at my suffering, at my madness. It is enough to drive anyone crazy. I do hope you don't think me crazy. I tell you, I am not!
The only other object in the room is a blanket, for it gets extremely cold at night and there is no heat. I think they might be trying to kill me, trying to kill me like the crash killed Jonny.
My clothes and food are brought to me everyday by a hooded figure. Whoever it is scares me. I see Jonny's face in the place of the black hood they wear. I am taking medication for my supposed 'madness'. They think I don't notice that it is mixed in with my food, but I do. I know that they are there because the medication in the food tend to make me drowsy. Also, instead of helping my hallucinations, they tend to increase them.
I know that Jonny is dead and cold in his grave. I know he isn't really coming to get me. It may just be the medication talking, but for some odd reason I feel better than I have since the funeral. I feel like I could just fall asleep forever. I think I will just lean up against you. You, the wall I have been speaking to this entire time. You are the only one who listens to my side of the story and doesn't think I am crazy.

¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸.¤*¨*¤.¸

The red and blue police and ambulance lights flashed across the handsome face of Jarrod Wright as his dark blue eyes scanned the outside of the asylum. He sighed, he had gotten a call for this assignment around 5am this morning. A trembling asylum attendant stood next to him awaiting questioning.
He turned toward her and asked, "When did you notice that the girl was dead?"
Her tearful green eyes looked fearfully into his as she shakily, "I w-went int-to her r-room to g-give her her food and clothes. She was leaning against the north wall and I thought she was asleep so I gently shook her shoulders. When I did, her head fell backwards, eyes wide open, and jaw dropped in a silent scream. I..." she burst out crying, "I am sorry Detective I just..."
"Shhhh Its alright." soothed Wright, "Thank you for your testimony, its been a big help."
He turned to one of the deputies, "You there, take her home, she is not fit to drive."
The deputy nodded, "Yes sir." and took the tendant's arm.
Detective Wright turned back toward the asylum. It appeared extremely old, and had ivy growing all over it. One of the southern wall's foundations were crumbling and the door was almost completely rotted off its hinges.
He began walking toward the door, his boots crunching on the gravel underneath them. When he reached the door a musty smell along with another smell that he could not recognize singed his nostrails. He put his hand on the door to push it open, it fell over into the asylum. He shook his head, what kind of a place would put their patients in a place like this? There was only one other door inside the asylum. He looked toward it and walked over to it, his weight making the floor boards creak.
The door to enter into the room was made of some sort of metal and was starting to rust around the bottom. The door swung open and hit the wood wall behind with with a sickening thud.
The beam from Wright's flashlight swept across the room as the dust began to settle. He cautiously stepped into the dark padded room. He cocked his head to the side as his light shone on the wall in front of him. The room was black. Wasn't this supposed to be somewhere to help the patients...not make them worse? He shook his head, and slowly spun in a complete circle, taking in the desolate room that he now stood in. The ceiling was about ten foot high, the walls and flloor were covered in a thin padding, there were two small windows near the ceiling. He furrowed his brow and gazed up at them. Why were they there? They didn't let in much light at all, but that may be from the thick iron bars that went across them. No wonder the girl that inhabited the room was having hallucinations, this room was enough to creep anyone out, even someone in their right mind.
The floor creaked beneath his feet and he looked down. There was a small mound of a fine white powder on the floor. It was not apart of the dust that was a greyish brown, but a pure white. Wright leaned down while taking a small plastic baggie and brush from his breast pocket. He brushed a sample of the powder into the bag, taking care not to get any of the surrounding dust. Wright closed his weary eyes and glanced around the room one last time, decided he had seen everything, and walked out of the asylum.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wright paced the black and white tiled floor of the morgue. He had not wanted to take this case, it brought back too many memories. Memories that he never wanted to remember. He wearily sank into one of the folding chairs that lined the wall of the waiting room. He laid his head back onto the head rest of the chair and closed his bloodshot eyes. Memories came flooding back to him. He tried to push them from his mind but found that he couldn't.
He saw his 17 year old daughter pulling from the driveway in her new Mustang, her sweet voice telling him that she would be back later and not to worry. She looked so happy, so carefree. Later on that evening a phone call changed all that. The blue and red police lights flashing across his daughter's once shining face. Her face, once alive and full of energy, now full of pain and lifelessness. The skin on her right arm was singed
and you could see the bone. Her delicate body all twisted and mangled in the wreakage of her car. Her beautiful blonde hair caked in blood, and one of her beautiful green eyes popped from its socket.
The slamming of the morgue door brought him back to reality with a jerk. He sighed, stood to his weary feet and eyed the doctor standing before him. He was about 6'4 with long brown hair that was pulled into a pony tail. He had laughing brown eyes that were full of wonder and seemed to be taking in everything that was around him. Wright held out his hand.
"Jarrod Wright," he said as he took the doctor's gloved hand.
"Lindy Taylor, nice to meet you detective." the doctor's voice was grave.
"Same to you doctor. Have you come to any conclusions from the autopsy?"
"You may want to have a seat, Detective."
Wright slowly sank into the chair that he had stood up from and leaned forward on his elbows, "Lets have it Doctor."
"Please, call me Lindy." he swallowed "Detective, I have never done an autopsy like this one in the 25 years I have been in the medical field. There is no apparent cause of death, no abnormalties in her digestive system, no abrasions to the body, nothing unusal at all.:
"So you are saying that this girl should still be alive?"
"Yes sir."
"Is there a drug of some sort that could be in her system and is not able to be detected?"
"There is always that possibility. We are still running some tests, but they will not be finished for another couple days."
Wright sighed as he and the doctor stood up, "Thanks Lindy, you have been a great help," he held out his business card, "If you find anything more, please call me."
"Yes Detective, I will not hesitate. Good Bye."
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wright walked up the stone steps of the morgue and out into the parking garage. The sky had become dark and cloudy. There was no moon or stars out, for the clouds blocked the entire sky. His shoes crunched on the gravel as he walked to his car. When he was about two cars away from it he froze in his tracks. A dark figure sat in the driver's seat of his car. He crouched and slowly crept to the back of his car, holding his breath, as not to make a sound.
He glanced around at the gravel at his feet for a large rock or something to defend himself. He spotted an old wooden bat near the door of the SUV beside him and reached for it. His balance gave way and he fell onto the gravel with a large crunch. He panicked as he looked up through his driver's window. The figure hadn't moved, that was a good sign that the person in his car was either oblivious to the fact that he was not alone in the garage or did not deem him to be a threat.
He grabbed the bat and crawled to the front of his car and around to the driver's side. Taking a deep breath he jumped up and jerked the car door open in one swift movement. The person fell to the ground. Wright gasped and began to tremble. There was no mistaking the matted blonde hair, the pale pink funeral dress, and the skinless right arm. It was Chrissy. He trembled as he fell to his knees in front of his dead decaying daughter. His breaths came in short difficult heaves. Why would someone dig his daughter up and put her here? How did they know she was his? He quickly scanned the garage, it was empty except for one other car, and it was empty.
He shakily got to his feet, never taking his eyes off of Chrissy. Something shiny and bright caught his eye, and he leaned down. It was a small note attached to her left wrist. With trembling hands he slipped it off her wrist and opened it.