Asylum - Chapter 1

By rough hands, I was been groped by unseen hands and perversely gazed upon by eyes covered by glasses. Women and Men, picking and prodding, pulling me by the mouth as they inspected me none too gently since it was my own fault for struggling against their hold on me. Pushed down by an invisible force, I saw a black blur.

Too busy trying to figure out what exactly was going on; I did not come to realize that there was a large needle inching towards my neck until it pierced my flesh. A sharp, pathetic sound ripped through my throat and the dark yellow ooze was injected.

I fell, limp against the chest of some random fellow, gripping the material of his shirt as my only security. My very pitiful gaze turning to each body that I can make out with these slowly-becoming-useless-eyes, asking for mercy that would not come, at least not from these ministers of a place that I did not know and I did not want to know either. I stared up a dull, ashen ceiling my gaze beginning to fade out. It was only a matter of time before I woul- Ah, there it is.

A soft churn came in my stomach.
And a disorderly body fell to the floor.
My very own.

I arose in a room.
One different from the one I had been restrained in perhaps hours earlier. But, obviously I had been there for some time, because through the peep window high, very high on the wall there was a small amount of pale blue light shining in on me like a spotlight.
I was on the cold floor.

Palms plastered against the cement and a bluing bruise on my face, I groaned and murmured my aches to myself as found the strength to curl my legs to my chest. I whimpered gently, closing my eyes and tightened them closed. And I reopened them.
I was still here, This isn't a dream?

It just seemed very unreal, the events that just occurred.

I crawled to my slippery feet and placed my hands against the cushion of the makeshift piece of furniture that would be called my bed for this night because I knew. I knew this was not real. I breathed lightly, walked over towards the sink, and touched it knowing my fingers would slip past it, in end its wake would be a metallic mist mimicking the color of the silver contraption. But it didn't.
My feet robotically moved me towards the black walls and I touched them, I knew in their wake would be a black mist. Because it was not real. My mother.. My mother would not do this to me.

I did not know when that night, and I do not know how I got there.
But at some point after touching anything and everything I could get my hands on was fondled, I placed my head on those grey pillows taking hold of the end of my nightgown and accepted the sleep that demanded of me. I knew
I knew, I could no longer say it was a dream..