“Johnny, time for lunch,” I hear before the sound of footsteps echo from behind my door. I’ve already skipped breakfast—not wanting to have to suffer through another “amazing” plate of mystery meat with some soupy eggs on the side—and I planned to skip lunch too, but the sound of footsteps became louder, notifying me that my keeper had turned around when he noticed I had not come out of my room, making me jump off of my bed and quickly rush to the door. As I swing open the rusty metal door, a fist makes contact with my stomach, making me double over in pain. I raise my head slightly to see a grin plastered on my keepers face. “Whoops, sorry Johnny,” he says, sarcasm leaking from his voice. I stand up straight, my hands shadowing over my stomach, and step past him making sure to hit my shoulder against his. “Screw off, Chris,” I scuff as I make my way towards the cafeteria.
As I stand in line waiting to get a plate full of dried up mac n’ cheese with spinach and burnt tater tots, I spot something that’s not quite in place; or should I say someone. I look over to the entrance doors to see a girl standing shyly next to one of our therapists, Dr. Ella Jones, here at the asylum. Dr. Jones points to certain things while talking away—probably explaining where everything is and how it works—but what she didn’t notice was that the girl wasn’t even paying attention. Her eyes were set on something in the opposite direction from where Dr. Jones was pointing to. It’s unusual when someone new is checked into the asylum, not surprising me to see most of the patients heads turn to see who the new girl is. “Do you want food or are you just going to stand there?” I turn my head towards where the voice came from and see one of the lunch ladies staring at me with a glare. I glare back at her and take the platter from her, scuffing a thanks as I move along in the line. I’ve said this once, and I’ll say it again—the food here SUCKS. Either there is no flavor or it tastes like absolute crap. As I sit there and mash the tater tots in my mac n’ cheese, I hear the chair across from me squeal, making me shoot my head up and look to see the girl from earlier shyly looking down at her food. It’s rare to have someone sit with me—no one ever sits with me. It’s not because I tell people to go away, it’s because no one really ever wants to sit with me. Most people just try to avoid me and keep out of my way. Her eyes quickly look up to me, but quickly falls back down to her food when she spots me looking straight at her. “What’s your name,” I question, watching as her head shoots up, a shock plastered on her face. Her mouth open and closes a couple times, looking as if she is trying to speak, but she doesn’t quite know what to say. “Don’t be so shy; I’m not gonna bite,” I chuckle. I give her a moment to speak, but nothing was said. I nod my head and chuckle, “I’m Johnny, if that helps break the ice.” Nothing; absolutely nothing. I scoot my chair back and stand, picking my tray up. “It was nice meeting you,” I say before walking away and dumbing my tray in the trash, making my way back to my room. I most usually spent my evenings in the library where I could be by myself—no one went in there—and sit and read the rest of the day away until dinner came around. No one here ever comes into this somewhat decent room because none of them could really sit still, or even read in the first place. In all honesty, I’m the only sane one here. Yes, you heard me right, I was actually sane. I was not meant to be in this hell hole; it was all a mistake. But, would anyone ever listen to someone who is accused of being psycho? The answer is no; nobody does. The sound of the door slamming comes from the right of me making myself and the two watchers in here turn our heads to see the girl from earlier enter the library. Her cheeks start to turn pink from embarrassment as one of the watchers shah’s her. Her head drops and she quickly shuffles into the stacks. Next thing I knew, I was standing up and making my way over to the stacks, making sure to keep my distance so I wouldn’t scare her off. She quickly scanned over the non-fiction section, but slowed her pace as she moved into the fiction section of the library. Cute and interested in fiction? Damn. Slowly and quietly, I move up behind her and put my lips close to her ear and whisper, “I highly recommend James Patterson.” She quickly jumps away, her eyes wide and her breathing quickened. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m just curious as to why you are in here. Nobody comes in here; well, except me of course,” I question, moving back a few steps to give her some room. Her breathing slows back to it’s regular pace and she goes back to looking through the selection of books. “I’m quite a bigger reader; so it looks as if you won’t be the only one in here from now on.” I chuckle at her comeback and watch as she picks a book out and passes by me, taking a seat at one of the chairs. I follow her, choosing a seat across from her. “Quite a bit more talkative, now aren’t we?” She ignores me and keeps her eyes on the book she had chosen. “So, what brings you in here?” Silence. I let out a sigh and cross my arms, irritated that she won’t speak to me. “Would you prefer if I told my story first?” That heightened her interest, her head rising up to look at me. “I’m listening,” she says as she closes her book, setting it down on the table in front of her. “It may sound weird, but I was framed,” I state before beginning to share my story. I got let out of my job, at the surf shack, about an hour earlier than what I was expected. They said that there was too many people working at the time, and figured that I worked long enough that day. There was no way I was gonna say no. I may be a great worker, but I hate working, it's way too tiring. I rather stay at home and play videogames with the music blasting through my eardrums, pretty much all day. But, you gotta work in order to make money. When I had gotten home, everything was scattered all over the floor. Broken lamps with glass lying everywhere, picture frames laying face down, torn clothing scattered in all directions. The one thing that really caught my eye was the the big blood streak leading into the kitchen. My heart was beating fast and furiously. So many things were running through my head, but I did nothing to answer any of my questions. I just stood there. A loud smash from upstairs broke me from my thoughts. Screams and thumps flooded my ears, all sounding like a woman's. Mother was the first thing to come to mind. I quickly took off towards the stairs, my mind set on running up them and saving my mother, but it was too late. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs, my mother was rolling down them, bones snapping and screams screeching in the air. She landed right in front of me, head twisted in a different way, a knife plunged in her side, and her legs all blooded up. My heart broke in two as I looked down at my dead mother. There was nothing I could do. She was already gone. Tears began to flood my eyes, making my sight blurry. Noises of footsteps began from the stairs, making me look up. There walked a person all dressed up in black with a black mask on, making it very difficult to figure out who it is. I did the first thing that came to mind after someone had killed someone you loved and they are standing right in front of you. I took two steps at a time and ran towards the unknown man, ready for the kill. I threw a punch towards him, making contact with his nose, feeling the bones breaking beneath my knuckles. He quickly grabbed his face, holding it in pain, then looked at me from under his black mask. Before I even had the chance to blink, I felt his hands on my chest, putting force on me, to where I lost my balance and fell backwards down the stairs. Every hit was painful, but not as painful as my heart was feeling at the moment. Once I finished falling, having a headache would be an understatement. I lightly lifted my head to see the man staring straight down at me. The last thing that I heard was “Have fun in prison,” before seeing his gun swing my way, and a sharp pain came to my head, black invading my sight as I fell into a dark sleep. I looked up at the girl to see her staring intently at me. “When I woke up, I was handcuffed and on my way here.” Her mouth open and closes, but no words come out. “Why didn’t they ever give you the chance to give your side of the story?” she finally asks after a moment of silence. I chuckle and shake my head, “trust me, I tried explaining to them that they have their stories all wrong, but they wouldn’t listen to me. They told me that I tried to commit suicide, killed my parents when they tried to stop me, then tried again, but only failing to do so.” “What are you going to do then? Are you just going to stay here for the rest of your life paying for something that you hadn’t even done?” I look up at her and smile, “I’ve had a plan on how to get out of here, but was waiting for the right person to be emitted to help me succeed in my plan. You are gonna help me get out of here.”
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With a simple push, he was falling off the edge of the cliff. His screams only brought joy to my ears as he spent the last few seconds of his life plummeting to the cold, rocky water just down below. Well, at least could have been the last few seconds of his life. He was falling into a body of water: there is a chance he will live. By the looks of his body floating above the edge between air and water, he was dead. A smile crept onto her lips, a bit of relief flooding through my body. Probably wouldn’t help to say that the man now floating in the Pacific Ocean is my father. Let me share a small story.
My brother, Derek, and I were on our way home from a long day at the Zoo with a couple of our friends. The images of the animals still fresh in my mind, the memories we all made stored to reminisce at a later time. Smiles were stilled plastered on our faces, throwing small moments from today back a forth starting with ‘remember when…’ We pulled into the driveway and parked, Derek’s truck going silent as he turned the ignition off. As we got out, I noticed a car parked on the side of the street in front of our house. I turned my head to Derek with a serious face, looking to him for answers, only to find him looking to the car in horror. “Derek, who’s car is-,” that’s when a high pitched scream came from inside of the house. Both Derek and I turned on our heals and darted for the house, instantly knowing the screams of our mother. The strike plate was ripped partially and the jamb broken into pieces, indicating that someone must have kicked the door in. Derek pushed the door open the rest of the way, stopping dead in his tracks. I pushed him to the side a bit, to get through the doorway, gasping as I saw the mess in the living room. The couch and chairs were turned on their sides, glass scattered all over the floor… bloody hand prints streaked on the walls. Another scream came from the top of the staircase. My head jerk towards the sound, fear running down my spine. Within seconds Derek was across the living room, glass crunching under his boots, and up the staircase, two steps at a time. I was quick to follow him up the stairs, confusion and worry flooding my mind. As I followed close behind Derek and ran into my mother’s bedroom, I was beyond surprised to see what was in front of me. As my mother lied on the ground, her arms held above her head and her skirt hiked up above her waist, my father sat firming on top of her, pinning my mother to the floor with his own weight. It had finally hit me who’s car was currently parked in front of our house: my father had finally came back. Everything had hit me all at once, forcing me to take a step back to catch a breath. After all the emotional and physical abuse, he decided that coming back would be a great idea. I grabbed onto the door frame to keep myself from falling to the ground in shock. Not only did this man, that was currently sitting right in front of us, ruin our childhood with bad memories and harsh physical pain that left scars, but he also took my innocence away. Before I could get a word out, Derek was already moving from his spot, tackling our dad to the ground. Switching position, Derek now sat on our dad, his weight holding him firmly to the ground. His fists quickly connected to his face; over and over Derek punched him as he fought to get his son off. I didn’t notice till now that tears were streaming down my face. I made my way across the room and was pulling on Derek’s shoulder, attempting to get him to stop. “Derek, please!,” I pleaded to him, but nothing would make him stop; his anger had taken over. He didn’t stop until our father’s body had went limp and the only movement had been from Derek. Slowly, Derek’s punches began to slow until he was just sitting there, his chest heaving up and down. Once he finally calmed, he looked over to where our mother was lying, her breaths very slow, her chest barely rising and falling, causing worry to flood inside me. We both quickly crawled over to our mother’s side, my eyes darting all over her body. Her leg was twisted to a weird angle, while her hands and arms were cut up, some wounds still seeping with blood. I hadn’t noticed my brother was yelling at me until he was shaking my shoulders. I looked up to him finally hearing what he had been yelling to me, “Abby, I need you to get 911 on the phone right now. I don’t know how much longer she has.” Once I comprehended what he was saying, I quickly sat back and pulled my phone out. My hands were shaking furiously, but I was able to finally punch in the three simply numbers. Once I hung up the phone, my brother was already already wrapping up the wounds with some torn-up sheets, the blood easily bleeding through the white fabric. Derek looked over to me, “I need you to help me with his body.” I was confused at first, then it finally hit me. “Derek, just let him go to jail. Don’t let murder be left on your hands,” I was quick to say, trying to convince him that it wasn’t worth it. He shook his head as he held our mother’s hand. “Abby, I can’t have there be any chance of him being let out. If he gets let out, he will come back, and there is no telling who he will come for next. I’m not taking that chance.” I looked into his eyes and saw how serious he was about this. We both knew that if we waited any longer, the police will take him and our chance would be gone. Our father had hurt this family enough. With a nod of my head, we both quickly stood up and each grabbed an end of our father, quickly carrying him down the stairs and out the door. Together, we threw him into the trunk of our father’s car. “I’m going to take him where they shouldn’t be able to find him, then get rid of the car. I need you to stay back and take care of mom before the ambulance arrive,” Derek said to me as he continued to shove our father into the car. I shook my head, not agreeing with the plan at all, “Derek, you’ll be dead for sure. If they find that body or the car, they will trace the fingerprints and drive straight to our front yard.” He stopped and looked up to me, a sad smile on his face, “Abby, I’m going to be alright. Even if they trace it back to me, at least I know I’m going in for a great reason.” He stood up straight and closed the distance between the two of us and wrapped his arms around my neck, pulling me close to him. I easily wrapped my arms around his torso and held him just as tight. “We are okay now. Just go take care of mom. I’ll try and be back before they get here so it doesn’t look suspicious,” and with that, he retracted his arms from around me and quickly finished putting our dad into the trunk. I couldn’t let my brother take the fall for this, he had so much going for him. The more I thought about the situation, the more the anger had boiled up in me, sending me over the edge. I quickly made my way to the front of the car, yanking the driver side door open, and sliding inside. Slamming the door behind me and locking the doors, I thanked the lord that the keys were still in the ignition, ready to go. Putting all my fears and doubts to the side, I leaned forward and turned the key, the car roaring to life, the seat vibrating slightly underneath. My courage dropped within seconds when I heard the pounding on the window. There my brother stood, anger raging in his eyes; he knew what I was about to do. “Abby, get out of the car, right now,” he seethed, attempting to open the door only to find out the door was locked. As I watched him struggle to get the door open, I sat there and watched as he went from ragingly anger to completely frightened. I was probably making the dumbest decision of my life, but it was also what was best for our family. If my brother left our mother and I alone, I don’t know how we could go on: emotionally and financially. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t be just barely getting by after my father left. If it wasn’t for Derek, I wouldn’t be as sane as I am right now; our mother wouldn’t be as sane as she is. He’s the glue to this family and I wasn’t about to let it all melt away. I simply shook my head and gave him a sad smile, “I love you.” With that, I put the car in drive and slammed my foot on the accelerator, the car jumping in response and speeding off down the road, leaving my brother in the dust. As I glanced in the rearview mirror, I caught sight of Derek running in my tracks, pushing himself to catch up to me. I pushed harder on the gas and watched as he gotten farther and farther away. Tears were streaming down my cheeks, the moment hitting me with a huge force. I forced myself to look away from the mirror and onto the road, the yellow lines passing by in a blur. There wasn’t any way possible that I could go back. If I went before disposing of my father, then it would be too late. My brother would hate me more than what he is now; I had to keep going. As the signs passed by, I watched them carefully to see where the best place would be to go; then it hit me. I slowed to a crawl as I came up to a hidden dirt road, secluded by the trees. My brother and I had always came down here whenever we needed time to cool off or if we just wanted to hang out. It was a beautiful view and no one knew about it except for Derek and I, making it our own secret hideout. I’m sure Derek will figure out where I’m going, but he would be stupid to follow me all the way here; he wouldn’t leave our mother all alone. The tires dug into the dirt, stirring it up to leave clouds behind me as I ventured deeper. Rays of light passed throughout the car from the sun shining through the tops of the trees. The trees began to thin out and more light shined through as I got closer to the edge of the tree line. It sun blinded me for only a moment once I got to the end of the dirt road, the edge of the cliff now in sight. I parked the car at the very edge of the dirt road so I wouldn’t leave any tracks in the grass, indicating that someone had been down here. Turning the car off, I slid out of the car and shut my car door quietly, afraid someone could hear me from all the way out here. I made my way around to the back and opened the trunk to find my father lying on the rough fabric in the trunk, his eyes slowly opening and closing as he began to wake up from being knocked out. His face had still been bleeding, a few dips of blood has stained the fabric. After a few seconds of staring down at him, he finally looked up to me with confusion. I knew I had to take care of him while he was awake, but while he was still in a weak state. If I waited any longer, he would gain some of his strength back and ruin my life for even attempting to get rid of him. Reaching into the trunk, I pulled on his arms and pulled him out of the back, his body falling limply to the ground as he was far enough over the edge. He made a thump as his body hit the ground, dust floating in the air around his body. I grabbed ahold of his arms and he held onto me as we both helped himself stand. Once he was up, I was quick to start pushing him towards the edge, ready to end all this once and for all. As he swayed side-to-side at the edge of the cliff, the grass flattened underneath the both of us. This was it; this is the time to end it. My father turned and stared at me, confusion plastered on his face as he was trying to figure out what was happening. I didn’t give him the time to think though; time to think meant he would stop me. I let out a breath and gave him my most deathly glare, “You can no longer hurt me, or my family. I hope you suffer in hell.” Realization flashed over his face, but it was already too late. I threw my hands out in front of me and pushed on his chest with all the strength I had. Within seconds, his feet had lost balance and he was falling. I turned and made my way back to the car where I started it up and put it in drive. I quickly slid out of the car and shut the door behind me, my father’s car slowly beginning to inch forward. I stood in my place and watched as it got closer and closer to the edge of the cliff, until it followed close behind my father, falling to the body of water down below. I was happy it was all finally over, but it still broke my heart to think my father was no dead. A tear slid down my cheek and fell onto my shoulder, leaving a wet stain on my shirt. I turned on my heels and began walking back down the dirt road, tears streaming down my cheeks from not only my father being dead, but having the satisfaction that I had finally gotten rid of one of my biggest fears; someone that scarred my life forever: My father. |