Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-44610077-20200120202101

The death of a loved one can scar a child for his entire life. The chains of divorce can rip apart the mind of a child to the point where coherence and insanity are one and the same. Being forced to live through so many tragedies, and being repaired only by band-aids has cost me the precious innocence that I used to call my own. All of my thoughts are impure. The mental asylum has damaged my sense of judgement, and I fear that my life has been compromised by some unseen indivine power. I wish I could get out, but it seems no one cares for a drugged-up meatbag such as myself.

Why do I tell you all of this? Today, this glorious day, is the day that I get my mental checkup. If I do well, I get to leave! The doctors have seen that I can act sane. Acting is half of my life. I admitted myself into this h*llhole because I couldn’t take the things happening in the outside world. I can’t handle all the sh*t that happens everyday. I’m alone in my family. My dad is in Asia, my mom is dead, and my sister is missing. No one cares about an insane 22-year old.

“Daryl Thompson, Dr. Strenuvie will see you now.”

I began my journey to my way out. The light at the end of the tunnel. The path to heaven.

“Ah, Daryl! Are you ready for your checkup?” She asked. “Yes.” I answered. “I’ve been looking forward to this day for weeks.” “Daryl, I have something to tell you. Rules have changed. We’re not allowed to keep you here anymore. You’re getting worse.” “What do you mean? I’ve been so good here! I’ve been working hard! I haven’t had an episode in two weeks!”

I didn’t understand what she was talking about. I’ve been working so hard, and now she’s going to take away my one chance to get out of here!

“Daryl, do you know who this woman is?”

A woman looking to be in her 40’s approached me.

“Daryl? Do you remember me?” She asked. “No.” I replied. “I’m your sister, Lilian.” She responded. “N-no, you’re not! Lilian went missing a month ago! She is 5!” I yelled. “Daryl, it’s not 1986 anymore. I’m 38. I have children. You’re their uncle! Do you remember me visiting you last week?”

There was no way this imposter could console me. No way.

“I’ve never seen your face in my life! I’ve been alone since I was 22, and I’ve only been here for three weeks!” I screamed at that sad little piece of inhumanity who pretended to be my sister. “Daryl, that’s enough!” Dr. Strenuvie said to me.

I can’t believe it. They were trying to make me believe that the last four weeks were 33 years? What kind of uneducated simpleton would believe that?

“Daryl, you’re 57! Have you not noticed how old you’ve gotten? Your hairs are grey. How many 22-year olds have grey hair?” The imposter said.

I didn’t know what to say. I don’t have grey hair.

“Daryl, I need you to think for a moment. How many times have you met with me?” Dr. Strenuvie said. “4.” I replied. “Do you remember Dr. Walker?” “No.” “What about Dr. Wernicke?” “No.” “Dr. Walrider? Dr. Hazzard?” “No. I’ve never heard of those people before in my life.”

What does she think I am, crazy?

“I’m sorry Daryl. Those were all of your previous doctors. You’ve been locked up here for years. We weren’t allowed to get you out of here. Believe me, Daryl, we’ve tried really hard. We just needed this final checkup.” “I get to leave!”

Oh my god! I get to leave! I get to change my ways! I get a normal life!

“Daryl? One more thing. I’ve been with you for three years, not four weeks.”

Something isn’t right. Why did she say something wrong?

“Daryl, the rules have changed. Grab his arms and legs!”

What is she doing?

“I’m so sorry.” She grabbed a syringe with a translucent yellow colored solution. “You’ve been here too long, and there’s no way you’re going to get better. Like I said, rules have changed. This is just protocol.”

“Goodbye, brother…” the imposter cried

They held me down on the bed as Dr. Strenuvie stuck the syringe in my forehead.

Author13 (talk) 20:21, January 20, 2020 (UTC) 