So here I am trapped in this world, trying to use my imagination to escape my reality. I have gotten used to the faint light that sips into my room but the stench that crowds my room still gets to me. The maze of insanity that we call an asylum has gotten pretty intriguing with the characters that have been recently introduced. Majority of the inmates have murder exuding through their gazes and if I am being quite honest, I relish in the stories they have to tell. I have always wondered what would life would have been for me if I didnt have such craving for human flesh. Perhaps a doctor, a lawyer, a social service worker... why would anything be different I had those jobs though? My God! there goes that sound again. I always hear it echo through the hallway but apparently I am the only one. It sounds almost like someones' finger...no no something more metallic scraping against the walls. It always comes like a scheduled event reminder , letting me know about my sins.
The groan to my right diverts my attention. A new inmate had arrived and the word around the asylum is he had killed his wife and kids. I strain my eyes to try and draw out his facial expression under the faint light. How does one capture the right emotions while getting rid of the people he loved or once loved? Do you relish in the fear the show as the person they thought they knew takes them away? I have not yet gotten details about the method he used to execute the crimes, but me personally; I like to do things more close up and personal. You can always tell the true emotions people possess when they are staring down at their last moments. With that being said though I was still quite intrigued about the mindset of our candidate. Maybe he would regale me with stories of the voices that echoed through his head as he steadily descended into madness...or maybe, jest maybe he wasn't even crazy after all.
The thing about experiencing long periods of isolation is that the mind becomes high preoccupied with depraved thoughts and ideas that you might most times, want to keep them as just thoughts. But once in a while something slips through and the balance scale of sanity swings both ways. I, myself, am a man intrigued in understanding other peoples mindset and reasoning. What makes a man tick? What is the determining factor for every action you take, whether good or bad? How do you quantitate love or affection and how do you reach the point where you fall so far off the wagon that you harm those you were supposed to have loved? I have always been alone in this world so I am pretty much the wrong candidate to answer these questions
The "guard " makes his final round for the night ensuring everything is settled...well as settled as an asylum can be really. The pongy aroma of Lush Go Green danced around my nostrils as he passes by room. Wont it be just fantastic if i just reach out for that neck of his and draw out all of the breath from his lungs? Maybe then my life would have some form of excitement in it. He would struggle and probably let out any form of call for the other resident official to help him . Ahh well, maybe another day.