Welcome to Friday's Short Stories,
The Place I called Home
Julia Meyers always thought she was normal. Well at least as normal as you could be living where she did. Julia had been omitted to the asylum at the crisp age of eight. She had tried to kill her family.
The walls felt like they were caving in on me. I stared emotionless at the pure white walls of my room. The steel door was locked from the outside so there was no where to run. No way to escape. The asylum had become my permanent home eight years ago when I had tried my hand at murder. I still remember the way it made me feel.
The sixteen year old lifted herself out of the deary bed. Her bare feet touched the cold floor and scent a shiver up her spine. The white nightgown the nurses had given to her, swayed around her ankles. I walked over to the barred window and looked down at the courtyard. The outside world seemed peaceful and happy to me but I knew the truth. Nothing is ever as it really seems. If that was the case, I probably wouldn't be locked away for all eternity.
There was a knock at the door or maybe it would be more like a bee buzzing around your head kind of noise. The nurse entered through the steel door, closing it behind her. The aged woman looked at me and smiled. "Good morning, Julia. How are we feeling this morning?"
I tried to think of something cheerful to say but nothing came to mind. I did my best to smile, hoping she wouldn't notice how faked it really was.
"Fine." I gritted my teeth.
Why is she still looking at me? I'm not her test subject. There's something off about her today. Just look at the way she is carrying herself.
She sighed and placed a tray on the dresser, "You're not fine. Are you, Julia?"
I was found out. There was no point hiding what was on the inside anymore. I nodded.
Tears began to run down my cheeks. But I had no idea why. I didn't understand these emotions. Most people felt something, I felt nothing.
The nurse shook her head at me, "Now, Julia. Everything will be alright. What are all these tears for?"
Julia shook her head. Her head bobbed left and right as fast as her neck would allow.
"I don't know what's wrong with me." she thought digging her nails into her arms.
The nurse picked up the tray and walked over to her. She handed me a tiny plastic cup. You know the kind you would put your ketchup in and told me everything would be alright.
I looked dazedly at the cup, "Are these my pills?"
The nurse smiled, "Yes," she paused looking out the window, "They will make you feel better."
I looked down into the cup. The pills smiled back at me. I lifted the plastic cup up to my lips and threw the pills in. Swallowing the pills was the easiest thing for me. The pills glided down my throat and settled in my stomach.
The nurse smiled at me. She always seemed to be in such a happy mood but I was always the same. My monotone voice carried over to her, "Thank you."
She nodded her head and then went out the door. Locking it behind her. Locking me in. I stared at the door for a long moment. I walked over to my bed and climbed in. Taking the sheets, I covered myself with them. Waiting for tomorrow to come.
This was the place I lived. The Place I Called Home.
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