Living Insane

Chapter 1

 

I hate how my name is spelled. Annie Barton, 22 years, scratched into the plate above my cell door. It’s scribbled, which indicates that it was done carelessly, by yet another person who doesn’t care for me. Oh well, that’s life.

 

             I’m supposedly fucked. Well, my life is. My mother said so. My father said so. The doctor even admitted it. Although I could never see it, they all assured me it was for the best; sending me off to this crazy place. A place where I’m always locked up except for the few hours a day where they let me have the teeniest bit of freedom and exercise in an isolated outdoor area.

 

             You see, I killed someone. It wasn’t bad though. He deserved it, the little bastard. He was the one who killed my brother. Apparently my brother owed him some money or something. I couldn’t really understand what was going on, for I was inside the car. I was waiting for my brother, Dan, to come back. I wanted to come with him and see what he did for a living, but unfortunately, this one client wasn’t very happy with Dan’s work. I heard a few loud words and then a shot, then sudden silence. I got out of the car, and as soon as I saw Dan lying on the ground, I went into a rage. Nothing else existed. I just knew that I had to get whoever did this to my brother.

 

             And so, I killed the man. I don’t really know how. I just did. But the worst part was that I wasn’t feeling any better after I killed him, and so, I bent down beside the limp man, and I took a huge bite out of his cheek, just for good measure. Well, surprisingly I found out that human flesh didn’t taste so bad, plus I hadn’t had dinner and I was starving. And so I took another bite. The police found me eating the horrid man just ten minutes after I’d killed him. They took me to the station, put me behind bars, and called my parents. My parents came by and talked to the officers for hours. I only heard snippets of the conversation, like… (Officer): ‘the problem may be something that can be cured with therapy… Ma’am I’m sorry…' (Mom): 'my little girl? You have to have made some mistake!...’ At some point my mother started crying. I don’t think it was for me though; it was probably for my brother. I know the bitch never cared for me anyway. She was just making that scene so that people would THINK she loved me. I’m not fooled.

 

          I was left there, overnight in the cell. It felt damp, and cold. But I didn’t really mind. I was too busy mourning my dead brother. The next day, they sent in doctors, but I wouldn’t talk to any of them, and as a result I was left there yet again for another night. The following day, they sent in specialist doctors, but with the same result, I wouldn’t speak. Finally, the last doctor of the day came. He was tall and blonde, with blue eyes, and for some reason, I liked him. He had a boy with him, probably around my age. The boy looked a lot like the doctor, so I guessed that it was his son. He seemed cautious of me, but stayed in the room when his father started talking to me. The doctor asked me about my brother and how close we were. Why I was in the car with my brother. Why I killed that man. But most importantly, he asked me why I ate the man. I did the only thing I could, and told him the truth.

 

         “Because they told me to.”

 

         “Who told you to, Annie?”

         I was silent for a few moments.

         "Annie, hunny I can't help you if you don't give me some answers. Who told you to?"

 

         “The voices in my head.”