Echo in Ink

Oneshot

A lie, that's what it was, I hoped it to be; but it was the truth. The brutal reality which tramples over all your dreams. So was this tale, the tale of a couple of maniacs, that's what they are called by society, but that's what a narrator's job is. To give you a different perspective of the these infamous "maniacs". So here it begins, the tale of two very different people who never once met but were tied by fate? It's a bit more complicated than that.

"Number 07!" The nurse yelled in a seemingly empty, dimly lit corridor of what it seemed like that of an asylum. A ragged looking girl appeared from one of the rooms, her dirty unwashed hospital gown marked with the number '07' in black ink.

"Walk fast we don't have all day for you!" the nurse pulled her by the arm harshly. No sound was heard from the girl, she was used to it after all. Used to the harsh, inhumane behaviour of the staff of the psych ward of the Flores Hospital. She was pulled into a an equally dimly lit room filled with the smell of drugs, mixed with the various other foul smelling substances. Stains of dried blood adding to the eerie environment of the room. Strapped to the old rusty chair, she flailed trying to make a vain attempt to escape, she knew she couldn't escape and even if she did there's no where she can run to. No family, no home. She didn't remember any of those, nor did she know any of the people that left her here. She didn't know why was she here, or who were these people, or why were they doing this to her pushing these drugs into her body saying it was medicine and that she was sick. She didn't remember who she was, apparently it was an attempt on her life, made by herself but she didn't understand. Why did she try to take her own life? So many questions that she had but none answered.

And once again, in the failed attempt of her escape she was injected with yet another chemical. Loosing her sight slowly she fell into a deep slumber again. That's how it is, every single day, they inject her with some drug she has no idea about and she feels drowsy. When she wakes up its already dark. The only time she is awake is the amidst the starry sky for a few hours. She could feel her skin getting paler day by day, her body getting weaker, the bones getting more visible each passing day or shall I say each passing night.

But in the ruckus and dull, dirty beds of the psych ward of the hospital there was one thing that kept her entertained for the few hours that she was awake, a journal. Or more specifically, the contents of the journal. In the messy scribbled black ink was written an entry, every single day without fail there was an entry in the journal, dated of the present day. A normal journal of a what seemed like that of a boy. How did she know that you may ask. Quite simple actually, he started his journal with "as a guy".

"Dumb guy" she thought. Who even starts a journal with that? But she kept on reading regardless.

"As a guy I feel like its normal but my thoughts past these few months have been far from normal. I see someone in my dreams. I don't know who she is. I don't why do I see her but she's trying to tell me something. She knows my name, she knows everything about me. She appears when I sleep and tells me something but I forget it each time I wake up. I tried to talk about this to Ashwin but he never takes anything seriously. He tells me I'm just lonely and I should just date someone, but it's not that. I'm not having these dreams out of loneliness and I'm sure of it because I used to think the same but this girl....she's too persistent to just be a part of my imagination. She's not even my type."

"That's rude." She said as she concluded the page and turned over but there was nothing. The entry concluded with just that. Frantically turning over the pages she could looked for anything else, any other entries of the past but the pages were torn out. The only entry that ever remained was that of the present day. Once again, she was crowded with questions but this time they were not about herself. They were about this boy and the girl that appears in his dream, who are these people? Why is this journal here? Why are the pages torn? So many questions and answers to none. The stars were dulled today in comparison to the thoughts of the owner of this journal. To none of our surprise, the moon set yet again and the sun rose. She knew it was time, time for her slumber again. She had accepted her fate by this time and honestly it didn't even matter anymore, none of it did. She was drifting by but today was a tad bit different. She looked forward to the night, to read the journal again maybe then she would some answers.