Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-25193000-20151114170135

"How are you feeling today, sweetie?" Ms. Rush asked whilst twisting her head around. The clock had stopped. A bird flew by the window. "Just fine. What about you, miss? You look a lil' ill," Bexley replied and looked at her psychiatrist through a circle she made with her index finger and her thumb. "I'm feeling alr-" "-Have you ever heard of the Circle Game?" Bexley interrupts. "No, what's that?" Ms. Rush asked with a look of confusion. "Alright it goes like this; The game starts out when the Offensive Player creates a circle with their thumb and forefinger. They're gonna try to trick another person into looking at their hand," Bexley explained while overacting and mimicking the game.

"If the Victim looks at the hand, through the circle, they've lost the game and they get stabbed," she explained, smiling ear to ear. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't go excatly like that. Have you ever played this particular game?" Ms. Rush said smiling back at the little girl. "Maybe I have, maybe I have not. Are you gonna give me chocolate today like you did last time?" "Depends on how well you answer to my questions," said the lady with a brunette hair and a twisted face. She had a red pen and some paper in her hands, writing down every word the little girl with long gray hair and bright green eyes said. This girl, she had always been, oh, so special. She was about thirteen years old, wearing a red dress with white polka dots, white stockings and a pair of old, worn out black sneakers. Next to her chair laid her big teddy bear backbag which she always carried around.

The converstation between those two went on for a little while, until their time was out. Ms. Rush handed Bexley some chocolate and the girl walked out of the office with a satisfied smile. She jumped like a rabbit out of the building's window down to the street and started looking around. It was very quiet, not a soul to be found. The ground was covered in clouds and the sky was painted on different shades of green. The buildings were all crooked and worn out.

Bexley wiped off the chocolate around her mouth, then made a circle with her index finger and thumb and looked through it. She spinned around, then started walking towards a familiar building whilst still looking through the circle. The building was gray, very old and the only building around that wasn't crooked. Bexley broke the circle and didn't see the building anymore. Then she made the circle and saw it again. She giggled and skipped towards the house. She opened the old creaky door and stepped inside. Then she looked for a flashlight from her backbag, switched it on and looked around the dark building. There was a mannequin standing next to a table. Its head followed where ever Bexley walked. She waved at it.

She opened a door to a big hall with a stage in the middle of it. Bexley made the circle again with her fingers and saw a giant marionette that was almost as big as the stage. It had a big smile, a moustache, a silk hat and it wore a tuxido. It opened its eyes, stood up and waved. "Hello there young lady. Yer looking pale. Could use some entertaiment, couldn't ya?" it tittered while moving around restlessly. "Oh, we've met before haven't we?" "Yup, yup. Remember me, Mr. Mangoes? It's Bexley!" "Oh, If it isn't Bexley.. The Freak! Ye have grown up a bit," it yipped and danced around ridiculously. The walls around started coming closer and the hall slowly became smaller. Bexley and the marionette both had wiped their smiles off and they looked at each other seriously. "It's a god damn tragedy. Get rotten to the bone and have blood on yer hands. Takes over yer brain," it shrieked. Bexley's flashlight and all the lights in the hall went out. She smelled smoke. The marionette was on fire and the flames got close to her and blocked her view. Then everything became dark again.

"Appleton. Appleton!" Bexley started regaining conciousness. The teacher slammed his pointer on her desk and she jumped right up. "Just because I'm missing eyes you think I won't notice you sleeping in my class?" he scolded. Bexley looked around a bit confused. All the students were staring at her and giggling. Everyone had a certain number from one to six carved on their forehead. She quickly lift her hand and touched her forehead. She could feel the fresh scar on it. The number six. "I'm tired of you pretending to be better than everyone else. Go to the principal's office," The teacher ordered. Bexley stood up and walked out of the classroom. The hallway was bright and there was colorful dust hovering around. Every other classroom was completely dark with no one in them. The principal's office was at the end of the hallway. The door was already open. No one was in there. She made the circle with her fingers. Behind an old, dusty desk there was a man hanging on a noose. He opened his eyes but didn't move them around. He just looked at the ground. "Who is it? Why'd they send you here?" He shouted. "It's Bexley Appleton. My teacher send me here because I was sleeping in class," she responded. The teacher didn't react. "Mister?" "Do you feel guilty?" he suddenly agonized. "For what, mister? Sleeping? No." Something tapped her back. She turned around and saw a white hallway. A basketball was jumping around and came to her. She grabbed it. She walked out of the principal's office and the door slammed behind her. The hallway she was in looked.. like a hospital. She dropped the ball and smiled. Then she sat down to the ground, held her hands over her head and let out a painful scream. Then she started laughing hysterically. She stood up and made the circle with her fingers.

The hallway was filled with different looking mannequins with different kinds of wigs and clothes. As Bexley walked on the long endless hallway, she started seeing corpses laying around. All of their eyes followed her where ever she walked. Old music from the 50's started playing somewhere in the distance and it was echoing through the hallway. After a little while the music started playing backwards. Finally, at the end of the hallway, there was a door. It somehow looked out of place. It didn't match the building. The door opened itself. The room had nothing else but a chair and a noose. Bexley shook her head and chuckled. "Why did you do it, sweetie? You can tell me," Ms. Rush's voice echoed from behind her. She turned around and saw the lady she liked so much in a black dress. Bexley smiled. "Do what, miss?" she asked.

"How are you feeling today, sweetie?" Ms. Rush asked whilst twisting her head around.The clock had stopped. A bird flew by the window. "Just fine. What about you, miss? You look a lil' ill," Bexley replied and looked at her psychiatrist through a circle she made with her index finger and her thumb. "I'm feeling a bit-" "-Have you ever heard of the Circle Game?" Bexley interrupts. "No, what's that?" Ms. Rush asked with a look of confusion. "Alright it goes like this; The game starts out when the Offensive Player creates a circle with their thumb and forefinger. They're gonna try to trick another person into looking at their hand," Bexley explained while mimicking the game.

"If the Victim looks at the hand, through the circle, they've lost the game and they get stabbed," she explained, smiling ear to ear. "Have you ever played this particular game?" Ms. Rush asked with sad eyes. "Maybe I have, maybe I have not." "What does this game mean to you?" Ms. Rush wipes a tear off of her cheek. "To me? It's just a metaphor to me," the little girl giggles. "You've looked through my circle. Or in other words, through my lies. Therefore you get stabbed." She pulls a knife out of her backbag and starts stabbing her psychiatrist over and over and over again. Once she's stopped breathing, Bexley closes her eyes and furiously hits herself in the head a few times. "Bexley "The Freak"! Bexley "The Freak"!" She flinches and opens her eyes. All of her classmates are gathered around her, mocking and laughing at her. "You're rotten to the bone!"

-

This is Frank Mangoes, year is 1963. This is an update of a patient that was transferred here in Mangoes mental hospital ten years ago. Name; Bexley Appleton. In year 1953, she cold bloodedly murdered her classmates, her teacher, and her principal, then set the school building on fire. Her motive, and how she managed to murder every student one by one is still unknown. Student's throats were slit and a number from one to six was carved on every inviduals forehead. The teacher was stabbed to death and his eyes were gouged out. The principal was found hanging from the ceiling as if he had commited suicide, but later it was found out that he had been poisoned. Appleton might have tried to stage him as guilty. Appleton's teddy bear backbag was found at the crimescene, covered in blood. The murder weapon and some poison was found inside the backbag. Appleton was found at her psychiatrist's, Anna Rush's office, covered in blood. She was mumbling about someone in a yellow bunny suit making her do it. However, no one fitted in her description and she was the only one charged as guilty. She was transferred here in Mangoes mental hospital at the age of thirteen in February fifteenth, 1953. No ones knows her background. No one knows where she lived, who her relatives were. She is always staring blankly at nothing. She has not talked ever since she came here. Until yesterday. She had never even looked at me, until she suddenly flinched and looked at me in the eyes. As if she had snapped out of a hypnosis that had lasted for years. The following statement is her telling me why she carved those numbers on the student foreheads;

"Once everyone was dead, I wondered just how much I liked them when they were alive. So I started to carve numbers on to their foreheads. One meant I hated their guts and six meant they were pretty likable."

I decided to ask her opinion of me. I got the following answer; "I'd say you're a three."  