ONE

Six years. That's how long I was trapped in never ending four walls. Some days they were padded. Some days they were dark, cold. Other days surrounded by books, papers or plaques. Trapped. Alone. Six years, no friends were made. I didn't speak, I didn't make it easy for staff either. I fought for the first eighteen months. A year an a half of trying to be free of the words, the words they iterate to bring forth the memories. Memories I don't want to remember. Pushing them deep as I can into this little box only to have a white coat pluck them back out and dangle them in my face.

For six years I was drugged, dragged, and prodded mentally, physically and emotionally. For six long years, I burned in my own figurative hell. Nightmares plagued every dark corner, and my screams awoke my roommate and most days the rest of the wing North wing.

Last night was no different, I could hear the doctor out in the hall speaking with another after they injected me with something to help me sleep without bothering anyone. Before I fell to the dark void, my ears pick up the end of the conversation.

"...This has been going on too long, Laura there is no improvement, we must perform the Lobotomy."

"No, you can't she is just a child. Can't you contact her family-"

"She has no family left Miss Hale. I'm sorry. There is no one left to claim her, she is under our care and she is clearly falling deeper into whatever is going on inside that head. We must take action before she hurts herself or anyone else."

"What if I take her?"

"Miss Hale-"

"Give me a week, don't do anything to her, I'll be back in a week. Please." Even though Laura Hale said please didn't mean she was asking. Her tone held order and I could sense that even in a drug induced state. I'd heard the name before, I've heard it but I can't remember...

I can't...rem..em..

"One week." And that was it.

"Good afternoon Miss Belle." Came the sing-song voice of Perkins, one of the perky, and plump medicinal hand out ladies. The woman was nice enough, but she didn't leave my room or my side until I took the pills she handed me in a little plastic cup. Woman gave me a new name every day, trying to figure me out. Since I don't do well with conversation, those around me seem to take the initiative to talk to death for the both of us.

I took the small cup and held it to my lips, letting the pills slide in and as I handed it back to her waiting for the water, I used my tongue to press them between the inside of my cheek and my gums, because after 100 years of medicine, they still check under the tongue but no where else. Idiots. So I drank down the water and opened my mouth for her to check. Seemingly satisfied she left the room and my eyes found their way back to the window, tucking my finger in my mouth and removing the two pills. Tucking them in my pocket for when I use the restroom and could flush them down.

So many days spent staring out this barred window out into the walls beyond. Walls that were so high that there was no escape unless you were escorted out. Believe me, I've tried.

I didn't hear about Laura Hale again all week, and I so I assumed I had not heard what I did at all. Maybe that is why I wasn't worried or paranoid about the 'process' I was issued for, not thinking I was actually issued for it. That it, like everything else, had been "another made up event" my mind has created out of delusions.

I was wrong.

"No, NO! LET ME GO!" Hands grabbed at my feet and my arms, I managed to kick one of the sedation needles from a hand, smashing it on the floor before I used the palm of my hand and slammed it up on a chin. I knew what this was, no one ever came back the same, many never came back at all. And I wasn't stupid, I knew what a Lobotomy was. An ice pick to the skull and I would be complaint for the rest of my days. Drooling, quiet, dead.

No one said this was a good place, sorry If I gave the impression that this asylum was filled with people who wanted to help. Nails cracking under pressure as my hands slipped from the grip onto the floor. Trying to Claw my way free. "NO!" There was a commotion down the hall, and I heard someone calling my name. A name I had not heard in a very long time.

"PLEASE!" I cried. "Don't let them TAKE ME! PLEASE!" My voice was hoarse, and didn't want to die. I didn't want to become a permanent prisoner in this hell hole. Or in my own mind, I was already trapped in both, at least I know that with my mind I can find ways of getting away from it for short periods of time.

Growling and screaming was filling the North wing, and I began to realize the screaming was not me, but coming from down the hall where guest processing was. For the visitors. It sounded like a wild dog got loose in the complex, but that's impossible, no animals can get in or out, let alone be allowed inside the building. So why were there two large glowing red eyes shining in my direction from the flickering lights behind the glass window of the swinging doors.

And why did I suddenly feel like I was back in the woods, six years ago, while the fire burns and screams filled the air. A hand grabbing at mine telling me to run. "Run Abby..." they roared.

"RUN!"