The Only Choice | Teen Ink

The Only Choice

May 3, 2022
By NotHereRn68, Dallas, Texas
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NotHereRn68, Dallas, Texas
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Author's note:

For months I have worked on this story. I have put tremendous amounts of dedication into it, and this is one of my biggest writings I have done. This started off as a Creative Writing assignment, but it became much more to me. This is a piece of my work that I have made many improvements to and came a long way from what it once was. This is a story I take pride in, and I hope that others can see the work I have put in it too.

The author's comments:

From the start, this was the whole story. this was all I wrote until I decided it needed more to it

After school, I always go in my room and watch TV, sleep, do homework, or draw. I really just do anything to keep myself busy and avoid my parents, so I always tell them I have a lot of homework. I prefer to sit by myself instead of dealing with them constantly picking at everything I do. I don’t understand why they adopted me if they just planned to treat me horribly. Maybe they thought they wanted a kid and then regretted it after. There is just no telling why they do this to me. I hope to at least know the reasoning behind it one day.

            One day after school, I was walking home from school after another boring day and when I got close enough to see my house I saw my parents outside, and I knew this wasn’t going to be a good night. The moment I walked up to the house they started yelling at me because apparently it took me too long to get home when I got home at the same time I get home every day, so I knew they just wanted to find a reason to be mad at me. I just ignored them and walked straight to my room and all I heard from my dad was, “You better get back out here and do these dishes before we have to find other punishment for you getting home late.” I walked out there and started doing the dishes. As normal, all I heard was about all of my behavioral issues and how I do everything wrong, and I think in my mind I finally had enough; I just snapped and said, “Well maybe if you guys actually knew me you wouldn’t think that. Maybe if you guys stop taking out your horrible marriage on me instead of fighting nothing would be this was,” and it went to complete silence after I said that for a few good minutes. “I don’t know why you always have it in your head that we treat you badly. I think maybe you’re delusional. Do we need to get you some help again?” my mom said. “No, I’m fine,” I said holding back the urge to lose my mind. “I think maybe your brain is messed up from the accident you were in as a child,” my mom said back to me. That was the moment I knew I couldn’t hold it in anymore. “WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP ABOUT THAT,” I yelled. My mother’s face immediately dropped like I had just ran over her cat. “You go to your room immediately Evelynn,” my mom exclaimed in a really angry tone. I walked into my room without a word, and I knew there was going to be something horrible to follow this.

I sat in my room nervously pacing and fidgeting with my fingers for about half an hour before my mom walked in there. I looked at her and all she said was, “Get in the car.” “Why?” I asked. “JUST GET IN THE CAR EVELYNN,” she yelled. She then proceeded to slap me in my face like I was some kind of animal, or a doll that she can just drag around and do whatever to; oh wait, that is all I am to her, a useless being with no purpose. I walked to the car nervously and got in. My dad started driving and I had no clue where to. “We’re doing this for you because we feel it’s what’s best,” my dad said. I sat there with a bewildered look as I gazed at the sky we were passing by. I begin to feel numb, obviously this can’t be good. After sitting there in silence, we pulled up to a place, and I knew exactly what they were doing when I saw the words, “Psychiatric Hospital.” They got out of the car and told me to come with them. “No, I’m not doing this,” I exclaimed. “Well, you give us no choice,” they both said. Then, out of nowhere, they dragged me out of the car and carried me inside. I really wish I was heavier and stronger right at this moment.

We got inside and they told everyone there a bunch of lies about me being crazy and trying to hurt myself; I knew this was a lie and they just wanted a vacation from me. I sat there and didn’t say a word because anything I say could be used against me since I am just so crazy; when in reality, I’m just depressed from living with these two horrendous people. My parents got ready to leave and told me, “We’ll get you when you are better, and we hope you get the help you really need sweetheart.” Hearing them call me sweetheart just made me want to vomit everywhere. I just rolled my eyes as a nurse called for me to go with her. I was in the crazy bin as a child, but I hadn’t been to this one, so I was a little nervous. I followed the nurse into this room that really didn’t have much in it; this room was just white with a small chair in it, I’m guessing for people that want to sit while they’re waiting to be admitted. She handed me some clothes and said, “Put these on, give me any shoes with laces or anything you could possibly harm yourself with, and then we will take you into the children’s unit.” I put the clothes on, and she stood in the room with me the whole time, which was a little strange, but she did think I was a danger to myself.

After I got my clothes on and gave her all of my belongings, I walked with her down this long, white, depressing hallway, and we went into the children’s unit. There were a lot of signs about mental health and the place smelt so clean like an actual hospital. We made it to a room, and it had a bed that didn’t look very comfy, more like a sheet of cardboard, and a bathroom that had nothing but a toilet and a shower in it. The doorknobs were slanted, and the blankets felt so rough because they were anti suffocation blankets. I also don’t get a mirror in my bathroom; I’m guessing there’s reasons behind it though. “This will be your room while you are here; we have someone who is coming to stay with you 24 hours to watch you, so you do not harm yourself or cause any trouble. Because it is so late in the day already, you will see the therapist tomorrow, and after tomorrow you will join group therapy sessions.” The nurse said. I just sat there and didn’t say a word with my eyes pinned to the floor and my head down. When she left another lady came in and said, “I will be staying with you until we believe you are not a harm to yourself. You must leave the door cracked open when you are going to the bathroom or showering to insure you are okay in there and if you need anything then please tell me.” “Ok”, I responded quietly. The nurse sat in there and watched me and it was honestly really creepy. I always hated the thought oof someone always watching me, but now it was really happening. This lady is getting paid to sit and nonstop watch me, I would think she’d have something better to do. I decided to lay down and go to bed because it was getting a little late, and the lady sat in there. The night was so dreadful because I had someone staring at me like they were staring into my soul, and anytime I finally got to sleep the nurses came in there to check up on me.

We all woke up at about 8:30 in the morning and prepared for our day of sitting and doing nothing but therapy and talking to each other about our issues. When I woke up I was told the first thing for me today is to speak to the therapist after I ate breakfast. I ate my breakfast which was some really fake looking eggs and cold bacon with a small bowl of cereal that seem expired, and then went to see the therapist. When I got in there and sat down, she asked how I’m doing. I responded with, “Well I’m here and I’m not really sure why.” “Well, your parents have told me that they are concerned about you and that you have changed behaviorally, could you tell me about that?” she asked. “I’ve been fine, but my parents want a vacation from me being in the house, so they said that to get me locked up in here,” I said back to her. “Your parents love you, why would they want that?” she asked. “I did nothing to give them a reason to leave me here. They don’t love me, they just put up with me. I’m not a danger to myself and I’m not delusional in any way, shape, or form,” I said. “You know lying so you can leave doesn’t help with the situation right?” she said. “Well, I’m not lying, and I don’t know why you are accusing me of it,” I said with a flustered tone. “You know you can talk to me right?” she asked me. “Well then I will tell you the truth to all of this. My parents always find reasons to yell at me even if I did nothing, and when I blew up at my mom for bringing up my car wreck as a kid she thought I needed to go into a mental hospital, and she lied to you guys, so I’d be here for longer,” I said. “Car wreck? Why don’t you tell me about that?” she asked curiously. “When I was 6 years old I was in a car wreck, and I was the only survivor. My biological parents and twin sister passed away,” I said. “Do you think maybe you have an issue with your parents now because you think they aren’t your parents, and you feel they can’t treat you like their kid and that’s why you believe they treat you wrong?” she asked me. That’s when I just looked at her and tried to hold it all in because I don’t want to be stuck here “I do believe they are my parents and I’d love for them to treat me better because I am their daughter,” I said as I was holding myself back from crying. “Well, they have said they are trying their hardest because they care about you,” she said. “THEY AREN’T TRYING THEIR HARDEST AND THEY DON’T CARE FOR ME, WHY WON’T YOU LISTEN TO ME?” I yelled as she sat there just staring at me for a few minutes in dead silence. I sat there crying like I’m actually a crazy person that belongs in here. “We’ll continue this another day; I want you to think about our session. For now, I am going to adjust your medications to what I believe you need.” I just got up and went to my room because I had nothing else to say. I know my parents said I’m delusional so they wouldn’t believe me. I’m not crazy, and I especially don’t need medication, but no one’s going to believe the one who was admitted here.

After weeks of medication and sitting in a place where people think I’m insane, I finally got to go home. They believe the medication is fixing me, and I just went with it when it really just makes me feel tired and worse. I feel numb to the point I just don’t care anymore.

When my parents got here, they acted like they were so excited to see me and hugged me. I just stood there like I was an empty blank body, and that’s honestly how I felt at this point. We got in the car and went home, and I still didn’t say a word. My mom made dinner when we got home and they were back to their normal ways; the mean comments, my dad being a drunk, and my mom being unhappy. When we were sitting at the table they tried to apologize for putting me in there. “I don’t think I can accept and apology from someone who put me in a mental hospital and lied so they could have time without me,” I said with no expression whatsoever. “Don’t be an ungrateful little brat Evelynn!” my mom snapped back at me. “I’m not, I’m just saying maybe you guys should stop being horrible people,” I said. “That’s it, I’ve had enough,” my dad said as he got up and slapped me in my face so hard to the point my face jerked quickly. I just sat there, vacantly, as they continued to scream at me. “GO TO YOUR ROOM AND STAY IN THERE, I’M TIRED OF YOU,” my mom yelled.

I went in my room and thought I heard them saying something, so I went to the door to listen, and started recording on my phone so maybe this time I’m not just “delusional.” “We need to do something about her, I don’t even want her anymore,” I heard my mom say. “We need to get rid of her and there’s only one way to do that,” my dad said back to her. I just sat here in shock, terrified for my life. “What will we do?” my mother asked. “This weekend when she’s sleeping, we’ll go in there and kill her, but to not get caught we’ll play it off as a suicide,” my dad said. “It’s a smart idea and since she just got out of the mental hospital, they’ll believe it,” my mom said back to him. I just sat there shocked. They were planning to kill me, and when they were talking about it they didn’t even think twice. I always knew there was something wrong with them, but I never knew thought they were complete psychopath’s until now. I just listened to my parents plot out their own child’s death. What if they had it planned and that’s why they put me in the crazy bin first?

It almost felt like none of this was real and I was just dreaming, but I know I wasn’t. The room felt so much smaller, and it got so hard to breathe. I was grasping for air. It almost felt like I was leaving my body, but I knew I had to pull it together and think of something before they did it. I know I can’t tell the cops because everyone thinks I’m crazy and it’s all in my head or that I’m having a bad reaction to my medication. Even with the video, they’ll say it’s edited. I knew my only choice was to kill them before they killed me, but I have to do it tonight or they may kill me at any time. I begin to feel like my blood is just rushing through my body and my heart is racing. This will be so hard to do but I know I have to do it, but how?

After a few hours of planning my devious scheme, they had been asleep for about an hour or two. They’re very heavy sleepers luckily. I walked out into the kitchen and grabbed two sharp knives. I stood there for a few minutes contemplating my choice. I know I have to do this but it’s so hard for me to do it. I walked into their room quietly. I stood there staring at how peacefully they were sleeping. I watched them as they were taking their last peaceful breaths. I lifted up the knives and quickly stabbed both of them down into their chest, so I won’t think twice. I can’t think twice with this, and I know it. I stood there and watched them stare at me, reaching for help. They were grasping for me to go back on my actions and try to save them. I just couldn’t stop thinking about what I just did while the dark red liquid drained from their wounds. I’m a murderer. I’m a killer. I just killed my freaking parents. I did something that no one should ever do, but I can’t go back now, not ever. I walked out of the room while they’re lives were ending. I sat on the floor because I felt so dizzy, like I was going to just black out. I was so nervous. I couldn’t stop shaking. My body felt so cold, I felt like I was ravishing for some type of warmth or any feeling at all. The room felt so bitter, and it smelt like cigarettes like my house always did, but I feel like the stench worsened. Like they were already haunting me with the reek of their bad habits. I walked in there a few minutes later and the people who were my parents were just two cold, lifeless bodies now. I didn’t know how to react right at this moment. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry or run away, or even laugh. I figured if I call the cops, then I can show them the evidence of what they were saying they’d do to me.

I called the cops and they quickly got here. I thought about running before I called, but there was no point. I opened the door covered in the dark, cold blood of the bodies that were once people, and took them to my parents. They were shocked. I could tell they couldn’t believe it. They thought maybe I was just hallucinating until they saw the two lamented bodies on the bed. How could a little girl kill her parent’s? I gave them my phone, but it didn’t work out exactly how it was supposed to. “It will take days for the evidence to come through and for use to know this is not edited, so for now Evelynn King, you are under arrest for first degree murder,” the officer said as he handcuffed me and read me my rights. At this moment, I feel dull and tired, so I just got in the back of the cop car and sat there. They decided to put me in solitary confinement in a mental hospital until they can figure out more and go through the case thoroughly.

For days I just sat in a room alone and thought about what happened. I would rock myself back and forth until my head hurt from thinking. The room was so empty and blank. I had a toilet and a bed that really didn’t feel like one. The room was cold and had an old musty smell to it. I would get food but right now I honestly don’t want to eat with what’s plastered into my mind permanently.

After weeks of really no human contact, the police came to question me. “We went over all of our evidence and we have found that it was self-defense, but what we are wondering is why you didn’t contact us first?” the cop nicely asked me. “Anytime I told anyone what was happening to me they said I was delusional, and it was in my head because my parents told everyone that and I didn’t know if they were coming to kill me then,” I told the cop. It almost scared me to speak after weeks of not being verbal in any way. “Well, we have decided you will spend some time getting help after what you have been through and what you just did. You need to be in a good spot before we can go any deeper into this,” the cop calmly said. “Thank you sir,” I said back.

They took me into another room in the same hospital just to where I was locked in a room alone all day. My room was a bit nicer though; the bed wasn’t as bad, and it didn’t have that old person smell to it. This time I was in the unit where the really crazy people are, and I understood why I was put there. I had just killed two people, so why wouldn’t they declare me as insane? A sane person doesn’t have the ability to just kill people. I know this is going to be my room for some time to come. I may actually be crazy now honestly. I know it’s going to be hard for me, but I hope to be better.

What will happen next for me is unknown, but I do know I have a long path of recovery ahead...

For about 7 months now I have been under continuous watch and care in a secure mental hospital. I’ve been locked in my room due to the fact that I killed two people. My case was taken as temporary insanity due to the recording I had taken before doing it, so I’m locked in here until I actually show improvement. I think that may be never. I’ll never get better. I’m damaged goods

The only time I come out of my room is to see my therapist and to go to the church room if I would like to pray. I’m trying to expand my faith with religion. I was never really a religious person before what happened, but I guess I feel like maybe if I try to have faith I can get better. It’s just nice to have the mindset that there is a high power, there is something more, there has to be something more after then end of our precious lives.

One of my favorite things to do to pass the time of sitting here all day is sit and stare. I like to think what life would be like if I didn’t kill my parents, or even what my life would be if I never got in that car crash. It’s all just a way to get out of the real world; the world where I’m a nut job trapped in a box. I like to think that maybe one day that will change.

I don’t like to speak anymore. I feel like there’s no point. I don’t think I’ll ever get out of here, so why would I talk when I feel like I shouldn’t?

I see my therapist two or 3 times weekly, and I know I just disappoint her. By the look on her face, I know she believes we should’ve progressed more by now than what we have, but I just can’t bring myself to let anyone else in.

As I was sitting in my room, daydreaming of a different life, I hear a nurse walk down the hallway and I know she’s coming to get me. She walks in and softly says, “Evelynn, it’s time for your appointment to see Dr. Jackie, I will be taking you to her office.” I get up because I know if I fight it’s worse then just going, and I walk with her to see my therapist thinking about what technique we’ll try today. Maybe it’ll even be something new to “fix me.”

We get into her office and the nurse leaves. As normal, she has that huge, positive smile drawn on her face. I admire how happy she can be after dealing with a bunch of crazy people all day, and sometimes not being able to fix us. I wonder if I’ll ever be that happy again. I sit down and she says, “Hey Evelynn, how are we doing today?” I just shrug my shoulders because like I said, I see no point in speaking. She doesn’t drop the smile or anything, but I know she wants me to speak; on the inside it’s all just tearing her apart. I sit there staring, I feel nothing anymore. I just feel numb from all of the medication I’m on, so I don’t really feel bad for disappointing people anymore. I can see her staring at me with concern, but I have no reason to speak to her. Anything I have to say won’t make things better. “I can see you’re thinking would you like to express those thoughts?”, she says politely. No, obviously I wouldn’t, but I stay silent and don’t say a word. “I know on the inside you’re hurting but bottling it up isn’t going to help at all”, she says. Actually, I’m not hurting; I just want her to stop talking. “I think we should get on the subject of what happened because maybe it will help you open up”, she says in a formal tone. My eyes get wide. I don’t want to talk about it, why would she bring it up? She’s just trying to get a response right? I still would rather not speak so I shake my head no. She lets out a light sigh and says, “Well we need to get somewhere Evelynn. It’s time to talk about it. First I want to know exactly what happened when you did what you did and how you felt.” Before she can get another word out I scream, I don’t want to talk about it, ever. Tears pour down my face and I feel myself crumble into a million pieces.

As I’m screaming and crying due to those awful memories, she calls nurses in the drag me back to my room, and I already know what’s going to happen. They drag me back and I just keep crying; I try to fight them off of me, but there’s too many of them for me to fight off. They get me in my room and inject me with something to calm me down. Moments later I am laying there calmy staring at the ceiling with the feeling of nothing. My mind is blank. I slowly feel myself drift away into a deep sleep.

I wake up the next morning when it’s time for breakfast. My head is pounding, and I still feel so tired. I get up, get dressed, and walk slowly to the cafeteria with nurses next to me after my incident from yesterday. I sit down and the nurses back away a bit, but someone comes and sits next to me. Obviously he’s new because everyone else is terrified of me after hearing what I did. He has dark brown messy hair, not long, but it still kind of looked like a mop. From what I saw in my prereferral vision, he looked tall, but I didn’t want to look directly at him because that would just be awkward. He smiles at me and says, “Hi, I noticed you were sitting alone.” I look at him and just stare so maybe he’ll catch the hint that I don’t want to talk, but he doesn’t. He says, “I’ve heard about you, but I don’t want to go by what other people say. I think you seem like you’re a nice person on the inside.” I once again look at him and say, “Well if you’re wondering if I did what people say I did, then it’s true. If that’s all you wanted to know now then you can leave me alone.” He quietly laughs and says, “I just want to be your friend. I’m not going to judge you for your past.” He acts like I’m going to believe that. Why would I trust him? I’m inquisitive of why he even wants to be my friend. I just sit there and don’t say anything else, and surprisingly he doesn’t leave. He sits there with me and also stays quiet. I don’t know if him doing this makes him think that I’ll trust him, but it would take a lot more than that.

After weeks of him sitting by me at lunch, and me still not talking he still continues to do it, surprisingly. He’s been consistent. I guess maybe he really does want to be my friend, but I don’t know if I’m ready for friends. I guess I could give this a try though, if I’m not ready then I’ll know I’m for sure not.

As we’re sitting at lunch, I decide to look over at him and just say, “Hi.” He stares at me with obvious shock in his eyes, he didn’t think I’d speak. “Hey”, he says trying to not act excited. I still don’t get why out of this plethora of lunatics he chose me to befriend. We sat there in awkward silence for a bit because he was astonished that I finally said something to him after his weeks of effort.

Once the weird silence was over he looked at me again and asked, “Well, how are you?” I laughed and jokingly said, “Look at where we are, how do you think I am?” He laughed and said, “Well that was kind of dumb to ask, so what’s your name?” I quietly said, “Evelynn, but I’m sure you already know that from what everyone says about me. What’s yours?” He responds, “Andrew, and no I didn’t know your name already. You have a really pretty name Evelynn” I smile and nervously say, “Thank you.” He nicely asks, “So do you want to do a puzzle together?” I smile again and respond, “That would be fun.”

We go and pick out a puzzle to do together. It was a 200-piece nature puzzle that was a beautiful mountains scene. When we got back to our table, we dumped the puzzle out and began putting pieces together. Luckily he uses the same tactic as me and does the corners, then edges, and last the middle.

“I’ve never actually spoke to anyone that is a patient here, better yet, done a puzzle,” I say. “I’m new here so I haven’t either, no one here wanted to be my friend anyways,” he says. “Yeah, everyone here is either out of it from medication, completely psychotic, or just really antisocial. There really is no in-between,” I say back to him.

We did most of our puzzle and then had to go back to our rooms for a bit. Hopefully we get to finish it later and they don’t just take it apart.

For a few weeks now, Andrew and I have spent any moment we can together. We’ve grown very close and became best friends. I opened up tot him about what I did and what happened to me which I swore I would never do. I didn’t think I wanted to have any friends again, especially in here. Now I think I’ve made a forever friend that will always be by my side. We continued to do puzzles together and talk. We eat every meal together and talk about some happy things from childhood. We laugh together when I thought I would never laugh again. I guess now I feel that there is a chance of me getting better and having someone by your side is actually better than being alone all the time. I know it’s only been a few weeks, but that feels like forever for us in here. I still don’t believe I will get out of here anytime soon but having Andrew here with me will improve a good majority of the time that I’m stuck in this place.

Within the past 2 months, Andrew and I have continued to be inseparable. We even get more social time with each other now because it has shown improvement for the both of us. For the first time in a long time, I think maybe things will be okay.

It was about 6:30 in the afternoon. I was getting to have more social time with Andrew. They even let us play board games sometimes now. We were playing Candy Land because that’s always been my favorite, and it turns out to be his too. Of course, I was winning, but he wasn’t far behind me. We’re both very competitive which means that during the whole game all we do is talk about how we’re going to beat each other, and then when someone wins we get to gloat on the victory just to get at one another, but it always makes us laugh in the end.

I was just about to win when a nurse came and told us to put it up and it was time to go get ready for bed which means take our medicines and shower. I really wanted to finish that game and win, but oh well.

After I did everything I needed to do before bed, I laid down and stared into the darkness. I thought about what’s next for me. I guess I have to just keep trying to get better and then maybe my adulthood can be as normal as possible for me, just maybe.

Eventually I fell asleep after my alone time with my mind. I typically sleep okay now because I’m so used to being here.

As I was in a deep sleep, I thought I heard my door open, but I was way too tired to notice it was actually happening. I soon felt the presence of someone walking close to me, so I turned over and opened my eyes and saw Andrew. Before I could get my mouth open to say something, he jabbed a long needle into my arm and injected me with something that was unknown to me. I then immediately felt myself go unconscious.

I don’t know how long it had been, but when I finally emerged from whatever that shot put me under, I was in the trunk of a car with my hand and feet tied up, and something covering my mouth. I couldn’t scream, or even move. What is happening to me and why?

I lay there for what feels like days as the car is moving. Eventually it comes to a stop, and I think that may be more affrighting than being in the trunk with the car still going because what is going to happen to me next is undefined by everyone, except for Andrew.

After hearing the driver’s door slam, the trunk opens, and the broad daylight strikes my eyes which causes strain on them. I don’t remember the last time I saw the sun this bright. He drags me out and takes me in this very disclosed place. It’s in a field in the middle of absolutely nowhere like he planned to do this, he probably did. This place is underground. I’m guessing so no one finds us. He drags me in carelessly and throws me in a dark, cold room. He locks the door and leaves me restrained with the ropes.

I think I was in there for days before anything even happened; I’ve lost track of time. I just know it’s been over a day because light seeps in though the boards of what used to be a window up in the top of the room. I haven’t had any food or water. It feels like my body is slowly getting weaker and falling apart into millions of tiny pieces. I don’t think I could even walk if I wasn’t tied up. Maybe that’s his whole point to this, to make me weak and immobile. He just wants to torture me because he's crazy. Why would someone do this?

After laying there, I finally heard the door make a noise. I don’t think I’m excited; what is going to happen to me next? What if it’s all just more torture?

The door creaks open, and I see light with a shadow drawn into it. The shadow is the shape of someone who was once my friend, Andrew. He walks over to me and stands above me with a very sinister smile plastered on his face. All I can think about is just stabbing him. If I could then I would right now. I’ve done it before, to my own parents at that. He just stands there staring at me like I’m a trophy. I guess maybe he thinks of me that way.

I lay there crying, and he just lets out this evil, terrifying laugh. He picks me up and takes me out into I guess what the living room is. He lays me on the floor and then sits down, and he begins to meticulously stare at me. It’s almost like he’s waiting for me to just burst into flames and disintegrate. I can’t even speak because my mouth is still covered, so I continue to just lay there and cry. Even if my mouth wasn’t covered, I don’t know what I would say. I am at a complete loss for words.

I would think by now he would have said something to me, but not a single word has left his mouth. It’s just a demonic laugh.

After a bit of him doing that he takes me into another room which looks like an average bedroom. It’s a little strange to me. He sits me down, locks the door, unties me, and takes the tape off of my mouth. The room is light grey with a twin size bed that has a dark purple comforter, there’s a desk, and a dresser. It’s things normal rooms have. I don’t really understand why he brought me here just to put me in a regular room, weak and alone.

“This will be your room while you’re still here, you’ll have lots of fun,” he says very psychotically. He then lets out that tremendous laugh once again. What did he mean by still here? Where else am I going?

            He then leaves and quickly locks the door. I sit down on the bed. It’s strange to be in a real bed now, but why would he give me an actual room? What’s the reasoning behind him doing this? Does he feel bad for kidnapping me now?

            I soon learned that this room was just as much of torture as the other. I’ve been in here for days, and I’ve learned many things behind this what seems to be normal space. There are cameras that actually watch you at all times. I get two bites of food a day, and I don’t even know what it is. If I choose to not eat, then I get shocked. If I do anything he doesn’t like, I get shocked. What do I get shocked by you ask? A dog shock collar. I know, very humane. The shocks get harder every time as I get weaker. I am not allowed to sleep, if I do then sirens go off, forcing me to wake up. I feel so restless. I feel betrayed by the person who was supposed to be my best friend. I trusted someone and all that it did was show me why I should have never opened up. I should have never spoke because now I’m not even allowed to speak. I can barely even walk. My legs are like noodles that are getting close to being fully cooked. I’m actually not even hungry though. I can’t even think of eating. I just want out.

            I sit in the corner of the room and rock myself to keep awake. I don’t think I can do this anymore. How can he just sit and watch me suffer like this? I may have killed two people, but I could never pull off something this tremendously coldhearted.

            As I am sitting there, Andrew walks in. I scream and cry. All I can say is, “NO.” He walks in and sits down the board game we always played, Candy Land. After sitting it down he says, “I win, you die.” I start shaking. What happens if I win? Do I get free? I’m sure I don’t.

            He sets up the game. “I’m not playing, just go away,” I say in a very debilitated tone. “Yes you are, get over here now, or you get shocked,” he says very sternly. I crawl over there with my arm and legs shaking beneath me. We begin playing. I start off doing okay. I get a shortcut to move forward, and he stays in the very beginning, only moving up by a few color squares.

            After a bit, I am still winning and actually by a lot now. I see his facial expressions go from confidence to a bit of worrying when I only have a few spaces left to win. He is still a row down behind me. I continue to draw, and I can’t progress any because I am not getting the color I need, and that’s when he draws a card to advance, ahead of me...

            I try to not make any facial expression, but I know I look upset. He smiles. I draw my card and still cannot progress any. I feel my eyes water, but I can’t let any tears fall. That’s when he draws his winning card, and I try to run as he laughs. I knew I wasn’t strong enough, but for some reason I still did it anyway. He runs and grabs me. He then drags me into a room and ties me to the chair as he is laughing. I feel like I could have put up a better fight, but I just wasn’t good enough.

            “I’m sure you’re wondering why I brought you here and did this,” he says. I shake my head yes and he proceeds to say, “Well, as a newborn, I was put up for adoption. In the records it says my biological parents gave me up because they believed I needed a better life than to be with some childish young adults. I grew up to constantly go from foster home to foster home. It was one after another of drug addicts, abusive people, and people who just wanted the check. I recently went to go look up my biological parents, and I found out they were dead. When I went into it more. I actually found out they were murdered, by you. I decided I would find out more about you like where you were, and when I found that out I made this plan and actually got in there. You see, I didn’t understand many things here. Why didn’t they just try to get me back instead of getting you, and how could you kill them? How could you do that to the people who were supporting you to live? I never even got to meet the people that made me and brought me into this world, and it’s all because of you.”

 I just stare in shock and begin to cry. I stare at him and say, “I’m so-,” and that’s when he stuffs something in my mouth to shut me up. “I don’t want to hear what you have to say. You don’t deserve to say anything to me, or anyone ever again,” he says with anger. I sit there with tears pouring down my face, and I get that cold feeling in my body again. There are chills down my spine, but I cannot do anything about this.

He walks out for a moment, and then walks back in with a sharp knife laced between his fingers and his hand to his side. I try to scream though the tape in my mouth. I plead, but he shows not a single ounce of concern or care for it. He pulls the knife up above his head and strikes me right in the chest with it. He whispers, “I guess you’re really done for now.” I feel pressure as it hits me. He pulls the knife out and the blood drains from my body, and then he leaves the room.

I feel my breathing decrease. I know this is for sure the end. I go dormant, and then my body turns to nothing but that, a body. I didn’t even get a chance to speak. I died alone.

This was just the end for me, and I have no return now...

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