And I woke Up Here

And I woke up here; I still don’t know why or how I got to this place this prison. They tell me I did it, over the last six months I have learned to ignore their lies. Everyone here thinks I am a murderer but why would I kill my best friend.

No one believes that I’m innocent, my only comfort lies within the four white padded walls of this cage that I now call home. At night I can’t sleep, every night for the past 175 days, images of that tragic day replay in my head. I can’t escape them. I scream and cry most nights until an angel dressed in white transcends from the lights above, with a glowing halo over her head. Every night it is the same routine, she quickly descends into my dark cell.

“Relax; this will only hurt for a moment.”
That is what she says before I feel the six inch needle pierce my bruised skin, than I pass out. For the next few hours the goddess of sleep shields my soul from terror. Still every morning I wake up in a cold sweat with waterfalls of pain pouring down my cheeks.


They no longer feel that I’m a threat to myself and others, so they let my leave my cell for a few hours every day. For the first two months they kept me alone because I was deemed ‘unstable’. But now I get to leave my cage every day at seven and go into another purely white room. The only source of color in the common room is the two small windows, where all the prisoners cram themselves in front of them hoping to see someone or something that would save them from this hell. I know sitting here as time passes that three o’clock is coming ever closer, after lunch I sit in dread for the next two hours. Some days I ask to go back to be locked back in my cage, so I can cry in peace. On the good days I get my wish, but other times I am told to stay where I am and play cards.

At 3, I’m escorted down the hall, past another white room, this is the nurses break area, and then at the end of the hall I reach a door that used to say ‘Suzanna Smith M.D.’ but now it only says ‘zan mit D.’. This is the one room I dread more then all the others. I methodically walk into the office and sit on the bright green couch and stare at the sky blue walls. One would think that the colors would clam my nerves but no. Dr. Smith begins her usual banter asking wither or not I slept well last night, all her usual bullshit. After the nurse that escorted me to the office closes the door behind her, the good doctor changes into a beast of torcher.


“Do you remember what happened on the morning of March 12, 2003?” Dr. Smith asks.

“All I know is my best friend was killed in my bedroom.”

“Why don’t you tell me the whole story again, tell me everything that happened.”

“Okay, I will but I don’t know what good it is to you.”

“Don’t question me; do as I say plus everyday you tend to remember a little more.”

“I thought this place was based on routine, so questioning you is my routine.”

“I am starting the recorder, begin when ready.”

“All I remember is that we walked up stairs together and he opened the bedroom door and entered alone, I was afraid to go in because of the nightmare I had the night before. It kind of goes blank after that I know he screamed and I dashed into the room to find his freshly slaughterer body, blood was everywhere. Then I woke up here. That’s all I remember.”

“Push it farther, try harder. who killed him, who was it?”

“I didn’t see them.”

“Yes, you did. Do I need to get out the photos of the scene?”


I don’t respond, I guess she just doesn’t get it. I have the scene memorized down to the last drop of blood on the wall. Seeing the photos again are not going to help, it never does, but at least it kills some time. Suzanna retrieves the photos once again and I just look on nodding my head.

“Tomorrow I want to try some hypnosis on you. So I can get a deeper view into what really happened that morning.”


Suddenly the door opens, my escort has returned to guide me back to my cage. After every session I am happy to return to my cell knowing that the doctor wouldn’t dare to enter my room alone again, especially after the last time she tried.

* * * * *
All I remember is that she entered my room wanting to apologize for putting me in danger of myself; I was lying in the corner of my cell weeping. Her cold careless hand grabbed my arm; quickly I turned and grabbed her arm. I twisted it until I heard her brittle bones of ice snap in my hands. That was the first day I was locked in here. They didn’t let me go into the common room for two months after that. The nurses and the doctor did not realize but I was happy to be left alone. They thought that I was too dangerous to socialize with the other prisoners. Slowly the nurses began to realize that I don’t like people in general but also that I’m not as violent of a person as they once thought.

* * * * *
Tomorrow is a new day, another session but I’m worried that the hypnosis will uncover more demons that are hiding in my soul. The nurse just entered with my evening meds, I have learned to just take them because the dreams are worse if I don’t.


The next day I wake up somewhat calmer then yesterday, it feels like the new meds they just put me on this week are working, the nightmares are starting to subside. I couldn’t forget about my special session today, not even for my first waking moment. The day went as usual, I got up and went to the common room at seven and waited in the corner until three. I’m escorted down the hall to the office once again, just like every other day but today the walk seems to last forever. All I can think about is the session, I don’t think it will do any good but I’m willing to try. My only hope for today is that the treatment will close more doors within my mind than it opens.


“Sit down Cassie, and we will discuss the process.”

“Okay doctor I am willing to try.”

“Good to hear, now lay down, relax and follow the watch with your eyes. Your eyes are getting heavy; the power of sleep is over powering you. Now go back, to the night before the murder, March 11. Do you remember anything that happened that night?”

“Yes”

“Tell me everything you can, don’t leave out any details.”

“I was up all night in my bed, watching television. The faint signal died at 1:00 a.m. but I still starred on. I looked on as the white noise filled the room. The noise began to morph into a frantic chanting. The chant was not in any human language. The static on the screen separated into images. They were like nothing I had seen before. They were pure violence. I saw the knife going a crossed the victim’s throat, then blood began to squirt out of the wound. I starred on as the black and white television began to show color. Red blood dripping from the tip of the knifeand down the walls, hitting the floor with a splash.”

“Do you know whose body it is?’

“Yes, it is my best friend, Mike.”

“Who is holding the knife?”

“It’s a woman she looks just like me, wait it is me.”

“So you saw the murder before you committed it?”

“No it’s like I am watching it will some other force in my body kills him.”

I fall in to what seems to be a lifeless mass on the couch. Suzanna stands over me, she reaches for my wrist to check for a pulse. I feel her grab my arm but something inside me will not let me move nor speak.

“Cassie, wake up. Come back to us Cassie.”

“Cassie is not here any more.”

I feel the words leaving my mouth but it is not me that is speaking, the voice sounds like a man’s.

“Who am I talking to now?”

“Just call me Gizmo, everyone else does. And I already know your next question. You are about to ask me if I know who killed Mike, and yes I do know who it was. It was me, I beckoned him into Cassie’s bedroom, sat him down on couch, pretended like I needed to talk to him, little did he know that I had a knife hidden under the couch. In one sweeping move as he watched the television, I reached for my weapon and line up for my strike. I have to say, the way the blood splattered a crossed the room on to the blue wall was best piece of work I’ve ever seen, and I know you have seen the pictures.”

“I have one final question for you, why did you wait until now to show yourself to me?”
“That’s an easy one doc; you know you have seen me before, when Cassie broke your arm that was me. I couldn’t fully reveal until a careless nurse left something in my room. See doc, it is hard to quickly kill someone if you don’t have a weapon.”

“So you are planning to kill yourself, I mean Cassie tonight.”

I feel my arm move up swiftly; I hear a pop as the hypodermic needle enters the doctor’s arm. I heard the doctor’s last gasp as the needle was emptied in her vein.

“No doc, I was not planning to kill her, I was plotting to kill you. A hypodermic needle filled with water and air always seems to do the job but it is never as fun as watching the blood splatter across the walls.”

Suddenly the door opened, my soul was thrown back into my body, quick I pulled the syringe out of the doctor’s arm and slammed to needle into my own. Sadly, there was nothing left in the syringe because at that moment I truly wanted to die. Sure I hated the doctor but I’m not a killer and I can’t live with the fact that I truly did kill Mike.

So it’s back to salararty confinement for once and for all. Only this time I never want to leave my padded cell, it’s not safe out there for me or anyone around me.