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People here look at me as if I'm mental. But I'm not, I'm fine - perfectly sane. Where am I? I don't know. I'm scared and I want to cry but I know that if I do they'll use it as an excuse to run "tests" on me. The tests here are painful and... frightening. They take blood and put you on a table where they operate after knocking you out with medicine.
I have had one of those "tests" recently. I have become all but imune to the medicine that is used so when I was operated on I could feel the tugging sensations. Ever since then I've been a paranoid wreck, looking over my shoulder every few minutes just to be sure that I'm not being followed. I shudder at the thought of another one of those so called tests. Then all the doctors' head whip in my direction as if I had shouted "Look at me dammit!" I stand up straightand continue walking as if I'm not totally scared of this place. And all the doctors' heads go back to waht they had been doing before.
'I have to get out of this hell hole.' I think to myself. I go to my 'room' where I am the sole occupant. Still, nothing prepared me for what awaited me in there.
A doctor with a syringe filled with a red liquid that looked remarkably like blood stood before my bed, a wicked smile on his lips. I backed away but my back hit something - the wall. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand and I began to feel like I was going to pass out. I had to fight off every urge, every want, to fade into the black oblivion that hovered over my mind and threatened to over take me, because if I didn't I would have to go through another operation and if I doubt I would be able to live through it.
"Come on, Sonny, this is going to help you." the doctor said, coming closer slowly. I tired to find the door handle by moving my arm up and down across the wall that's at my back. My hand came in contact with the handle when the doctor was only a few feet away. I turned it and slipped out as quickly as I could.
I stumbled out into the hallway, falling on my knees. Quickly scrambling up to my feet, I could hear the doctor's enraged shouts and I run. This place had guards - with weapons - and that meant there had to be a weapon's vault. Luckily I had seen exactly where that was. At this point I didn't care whether I was captured because I was going to make my attempt at escape today and I didn't have the luxury of time to plan things properly.
I kept on running to the vault and no one dared make an attempt to stop me. I suppose they thoughted I had finally snapped, but what ever the reason, they let me go. I didn't have much experience with a gun but I sure as hell wasn't going to try to escape without at least having something to defend myself with.
I had managed to get to the vault untoched by anyone and I wasn't going to push my luck any further. I ran in and saw the rows of pistols, tazarts and rifles. I gasped.
They had all this just to make sure we wouldn't leave or make it out of here with our life? These people were crazy! I knew how to work a pistol so I grabbed the best looking one and filled my pockets with amunition. I was going out there prepared.
I shoved the pistol in my pants and threw my shirt over it so it wouldn't be so conspicuous. I walked out as of if everything were perfectly fine and - after two years - I've finally gotten used to this place. This was all part of the act of course, but it was hard not to feel as if everyone who passed you knew about the gun and amo is your pockets.
I walked outside because we were allowed to go into the garden for periods of time. It wasn't fenced or anything but no one had ever been crazy enough to try to escape - no one except me that is.
There were some trees near the perimeter. My brain quickly calculated the odds and right now they were against me.
I sighed heavily an scanned where the guards were; they were away from the small thicket of trees so they could stay hidden but sooner or later - I pray that it be later - they would wander towards the trees to make sure no one was trying to escape or hiding.
There was a chance no matter how small it may be. I walked over to a tree pretending that there was something interesting on the bark when I was really judging it's height and my ability to climb it. It appeared to be adaquate. I laid my hand on the shortest branch and looked over my shoulder. Good, I wasn't being watched. I tried to put more pressure on it and it snapped with a deafening sound that made my heart falter for half a second. My head automatically jerked around to see if anyone would react. When I saw it was perfectly fine I found a sterdier branch and heaved my body onto it.
The pistol poked at my ribs hard and uncomfortably. It reminded me of the injections I had while in the facilty; the thought burned my mind and left a bad taste in my mouth, similar to to what their medicine tasted like. I had to shake my head a couple of times in order to dislodge the painful memories.
I climbed higher into the tree so that I wouldn't be so easily discovered. "Fool! How dare you allow him to get away!" I hear a doctor shout. God! Did they have to find out I was missing so quickly? I climbed to the next tree as quickly as I could while trying to keep my balance. "Sonny's not stupid! He could find a way out if he really wanted to!" More shouting from the doctor. I continued my steady climb among the trees. "S-s-sorry, sir." from one of the guards but it was only a distant murmur now.
I was at the edge of the thicket of trees now. I was fairly high up but I knew I was being hunted down with every passing second. I decided that if I climbed down it would take too long so I figured taht there was no othere option but to jump and so I did. The air whooshed past me and then I landed with a sharp crack in my left arm. I wanted to cry out loud in pain but I didn't, for even whimpering could alert the guards of my location. I cradled my arm against my chest as I ran. The movement of my run jostled my arm and caused searing pain to surge through me but I kept running because I wasn't going back there again.
I ran for hours until I reached a river. I stopped, exhausted. I bent my head to the crystal clear water to drink. It tasted so good, so pure.
Some rustling in the bushes was all it took to put me on the alert. I stood ram-rod straight expecting the guards fom the institution to come barreling into the clearing. I pulled the pistol from my pants and aimed it in the general direction of the sound, read to shoot. More rustling and out came... a girl? I lowered my gun ever so slightly and stared at her. She was very pretty- that girl- with her short black hair, murkeygreen eyes and pale skin. "If you're going to shoot then go ahead and do it already." Her eyes were hard as she said this. "I-I have no intention to kill you." I whispered as my head dropped to my chest and the gun fell out of my hand and onto the grass. "I'm not crazy," I sobbed, "They thought I was but I'm not. I'm fine." Tears streamed down my face now. Then my legs gave way and I was on my knees crying.
The girl walked closer and knelt beside me and asked in the sweetest voice "What is your name?" I looked up and said very quietly "Sonny." The girl nodded and asked "Do you have a last name." My reply was simple "I don't know." Again she nodded knowingly and said "Well my name's Rose." Then in a kind gesture she lighlty touched my left arm and I cringed. She gasped and said "You're arm is broken. We need to get you to a hospital." I looked at her, my eyes wide with fear. "A hospital?" I choked out. "Yes. Your arm won't get better unless we take you to one. Here let me help you up." Rose stood up and held out her hand to me. I stared at her hand for a moment before I reached up and took it- with my good arm. With that small gesture my horrible past of the last two years became just that - the past...
- by NotTheSoldier |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/30/2009 |
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- Title: Insane? Maybe...
- Artist: NotTheSoldier
- Description: Yes, I do write stories that don't involve slash. I got bored in my Spanish class and I just started to write the first things that came to mind. I think it's pretty good but that's not for me to decide. Thanks for reading!
- Date: 05/30/2009
- Tags: insanity escape past
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Comments (1 Comments)
- IzayasFun - 08/25/2010
- one word...paragraphs. its a good story but its hard to read.....
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