Tied Down // h.s.

one

The room was extremely bright, blinding even. I breathed out. A puff of what looked like smoke followed. My hands burned. It seemed like they were on fire. It was like somebody had lit a match and ran it across my finger tips.

I blinked a couple of times, my eyes adjusting to the brightness of the room. I knew that something wasn't right here. The space was covered with a layer of dust. The furniture was in the worst shape imagined. My mind wanted me to walk down the hall. 

It is safe there, my mind asked me.

I couldn't move an inch, because I was paralyzed with fear. It was strange, because I had no idea what the danger was. I had no idea of what I was drastically afraid of. 

Go to the safe place, hurry.

There wasn't any furniture in front of me, only the front door that was a few feet away from my frigid body. I noticed that I was sweating in the chill, abandoned room. My hands shook at my side while my heart started to beat rapidly. 

Torture is coming. 

My feet carried me. I took a left out of the living room and jogged down the hallway as the floor boards screamed.

The sound of a door slamming shut bounced from one wall to the next. I looked behind me and no one was there. I continued my jog, briefly looking into the rooms to see if one of them might just be the safety I needed from, well, whatever I was afraid of.

I passed about two more rooms when I came to this certain door. There was certainly nothing remarkable about it. The door was wooden and had a worn out door knob. It probably creaked when it opened from the looks of it, but there was just something about it that dragged me towards it. 

Hurry, my thoughts said. I reached for the knob, ready to be met with whatever was held in there. Safety?

A stinging and burning sensational pain wiped all of my senses clean. It hurt like hell and like something that I had never felt before. I felt it reach up my spin, grasping for my brain-

I opened my eyes and shot straight up on my bed. My heavy breathing filled the small, dark cell. The mattress creaked loudly as an objection to my sudden movements. I wiped my forehead. 

Was I sweating?

My eyes wandered to the familiar metal bars that separated me from everyone else, just like theirs separated them from everyone too. The very few lights barely lit the concrete hallway enough for me to see one of the guards standing beside one of the cells across from mine. This institution should just have the word hell smeared all over it.

I heard the footsteps of approaching guards walking down the hallway. I quietly leaned back on the shitty bed, careful to not attract attention to myself. That was the worst thing to do, ever. It was certainly the last thing I had in mind.

I closed my eyes and breathed in and out. A walkie-talkie rang throughout the hallway. It was muffled. As the officers walked past my cell, one of the men spoke a response into the old machine. "Ward Two is now confirmed for an OK. No medical attention needed for this hour, or for the rest of the night. Over."

The guards were one of the worst fucking things breathing in this building. Even though I shared all of this space with people who had a criminal past, I knew that they were surely at the top of the list. The walkie-talkie rang again. "Sounds good. Make sure to report back to the head office before you take that break."

I heard the existing guard that had stood in the hallway leave. I opened my eyes, knowing that sleep wouldn't come anytime soon. What time was it? Out of an old habit, I looked around for a clock. No clock here. Never has been for as long as I've been here. Obviously there hasn't been one for anyone in ages.

The rough material of my uniform was starting to rub uncomfortably against my skin, but that started happening many days ago. I lifted up my hands and stared at them. There were no hand cuffs attached to my wrists. I had always wondered why they didn't enslave us with the handcuffs, but one of the patients had told me that there was an incident before I arrived that some guy killed himself by strangling himself,  somehow wrapping the small chain around his neck and choking himself. And the guy who told me this story didn't look like he knew what he was saying, so I didn't know what to believe.

There was a voice that echoed from down the hallway. It was jittery and excited. "It was approaching, but it's now here. You all fucking knew it, but you ignored the damn thing. Everyone will go to hell for that." The guards didn't take this as an alert. Talking to yourself was the thing that was expected from this certain mental institution. Threatening everyone inside the building isn't taken literally unless you are in Ward Thirteen.

I turned my head and looked out past the metal bars. The concrete ceiling, walls, and floors were dark. The lights had been turned off for a while.

A scream broke throughout the vacant hallway. I huffed and pulled my hands over my ears. "Can't you people just shut the fuck up for one night?" I mumbled in annoyance. This place in no time would make me go crazy. Another scream suffocated the hallway. I shifted my body so that I was laying on my side, now praying that sleep would take me once again.