When She Speaks (Rewritting soon)

Scream: Chapter 23

A/n: This is a I-just-wanted-to-post-something- chapter. I'm going to try and post everyday. I would love to get this story back on the front page. So, this is a filler chapter and there is plenty of action to come later on.  :D

Scream: 

Sometimes, I just want to scream as loud as I can.

To see if anyone is listening.

To see if anyone can hear me.

When residents do scream, they are locked away for days.

Sometimes, they will even disappear. 

‘I’m sick of this place.’  Hannah says.

It’s the third time today she’s told me this.

I know, I sign to her.

I’m sick of being an imprisoner in these walls. I’m sick of group therapy. I’m sick of listening to my therapist tell me that he understands what I’m going through.  No one can understand. No one.

I’m sick of having hallucinations.

Sometimes, I see James and he looks so real.  I could almost smell his musky scent.  I reach to touch his face and the he slips away from my fingers. He is a beautiful dream that I’ve conjured up.

‘How many times can they serve us meat loaf?’ She asks.

She shakes her head.

 ‘I hate this place.’ She says.

How many times do you have to say that?

‘They just feed us this sob—just like caged animals.” She says.

She shakes my arm and whispers my name.

“Are you listening me?” She asks.

She looks angry. But, not everything is about Hannah.

I’m listening. I’m listening, I sign to her.

It’s the first time I’ve lied to Hannah.

I couldn’t be further away.

I run back into my cell.

The nurse closes the door behind me.

My throat feels strained and drained.

But somehow, I find my voice.

I close my eyes.

I scream so loud that I think the walls around me are going to combust.

But there are thousand other voices.

 

There are voices whispering in my ear.

 

There are voices floating above my head.

 

And it’s hard to tell what it is real anymore.

I kick and claw at the brick wall.

I’m determined to escape these walls.

Even it means dismantling this wall brick by brick.

But then the nurse comes.

Is it dinnertime already?

Did she hear my scream?

“I’m sorry that I have to do this.”  She says.

I don’t understand at first.

“Please put your arms in here.” She says.

She says as she hold ups an orange jacket.

I slip the jacket back on.

She pulls brown buckles over my arm, forcing my arms to stay still.

She says sorry again.

 I’m going to the white room.