Asylum

2 : The Cries of the Corridors

The cells.

It was probably the worst thing there was here at Absinthe.

They made you feel as if you were in jail, but it was more frightening.

Not because of the strong iron bars.

Not because of how dark it looked inside.

Not how it felt as if you were trapped, a captive, never to escape.

It was because of the people.

The people in them.

From the cells came screams, weeping, cries, begs. "Let me out!"

"Did nothing..."

"No food..."

"Auuuggghh!"

Anguished cries can be heard everywhere. Feliciano's blood ran cold. Will he turn into those same people?

"Where will I be placed?" he asked Fernanda.

Fernanda looked at him. "You will be placed in Group B. That's where the people who have committed evil go. Group A is for the sick. You do not want to wander to Group C, though..." Fernanda's voice wavered and she shivered.

"What's in Group C?" Feliciano questioned.

"Where the craziest go. People scream, cry, kick, say awful things. Stay away; it's frightening." Feliciano shivered at the thought of being stuck between two scary thugs. I'm glad I'm in Group B, he thought.

Fernanda took his hand and placed him in a dark, quiet, dirty cell. "Stay here. This is where you'll eat, sleep, live. Do not complain."

When she left, Feliciano looked all around him. A skinny bed with a thin, worn scarlet cover stood in a corner. A bench was on the other side. A hole could be seen above the bench, and you could see the next cell. "I wonder if I'll be able to talk to someone," Feliciano thought aloud. "At least there are no rats."

He sat down on his bed. He started to think. What will life be like? Will I ever return to my home? What if I die here?

That's when he heard it.

The crying.

It was oh-so faint at first, and it sounded lonely and fearful. As it got louder though, Feliciano's hairs stood on end. It was eerie and forlorn. Is it a ghost?  he thought.

To Feliciano's relief, it stopped abruptly. Sighing, he fell into a deep sleep on the bench, dreaming of what to come.