Silence

If I were to say I had never thought about how I would die, that would be a lie. I had run it over in my mind countless times, more than I could count. All of those times I had thought it would be murder, or some horrific, sickening, horror movie way. It all boiled down to the fact that I would have an unnatural death.

I never thought about the chance that I could get cancer, or some kind of incurable disease. Even though some illnesses had run in my family, it never occurred to me that something so vile could even reach me. 

…

Now I smile to myself, as I slowly disintegrate into nothing. My sickness had no cure, and people had given up on it, since it had been around for a century. Even the hospital staff had left long ago. It was basically eating me from my insides out. 

The hospital was very dreary. The curtains in my room drifted slightly in the little breeze there was from the open window. The window had curved iron bars, and the hospital's perimeter had an electric fence that, given my condition, I was unable to scale. The staff also put a chip into my leg before they left, so that if I tried to leave, I would either explode into hundreds of bits of flesh or be electrocuted.

The only individuals who "visited" me were those who identified as "ghost hunters." They had a naiveté. The spirits from the insanity wing would be the only ones to remain here. Even if they died, no one in their right mind would stay in this hospital.

… 

I slept worse than ever that night. I knew I had had a nightmare, but all I remembered of it was that it took place in the part of the hospital where the insane people were kept. 

A few corridors away from mine was the "Insanity" ward, as I like to refer to it. It once had an electric door that you had to pass through with a keycard, but ever since the employees quit and soon after ceased paying the hospital's bills to keep the electricity on, it hasn't worked. 

I slowly got up out of my iron bed with the thin mattress. I had to see why the dream was set in the Insanity ward, since I hadn't had a dream since I had first arrived at the hospital. 

I had considered this place to be a lower-class hospital when I initially arrived. You know, before I arrived here, I was staying in a mansion designed in the Victorian era. We had enough money to provide a luxurious lifestyle for my ten siblings and me. The roles have now been flipped, though. To have the hospital the way it was when I arrived, I would give my own soul. Electricity and solid, cold meals looked like luxury items at this point.

I became aware of how filthy the corridor was as I proceeded down it. Unattended IVs spilling unknown chemicals were present, as cockroaches crawled across the floor in search of a light source. There were wheelchairs in my way, and it was extraordinarily cold. My flimsy, paper gown could not keep me from feeling a certain kind of chill.

Soon, I reached a place where the tiled floor gave way to a more superior glazed wood floor. This could only mean one thing. I had reached the ward. 

Others would have jumped at the sound of a bang coming from the darkness of the hallway, but I had become accustomed to it. Now that I stop to think about it, I believe hearing anything from someone else helped to distract me from my own vicious thoughts.

I continued my walk, and soon found the door I had seen in my dream. Door 6.

I pushed it open slightly, and stepped inside. It was virtually the same setup as my own room, iron barred window, slim bed, etc. The only thing different were the carpeted white walls, and the fact that something was sitting on the bed.

This startled me a bit, but the thought that someone else was here with me, gave me a glimpse of hope. I made my way towards the lump, assuming it was a person, and took the covers off of it.

It was, in fact, a person. However, looking at this woman made me fear for my own reflection. How horrid and monstrous did I look, if this person had greasy, unevenly cut, frizzy hair, a shriveled up face, and blackened eyes and fingernails. 

I hesitantly stepped back, away from this thing in front of me. She looked up, and her droopy eyes didn’t even look startled. 

Then, she talked, in a gravelly, deep, voice. It had been a long time since I had heard another voice, so I wasn’t very picky with how it sounded. 

“I thought I told you to leave me alone.”, She said, scooting into the corner, scared. She covered her ears with her hands, and said again: “Leave me alone!”. Did she think I was someone she knew? Were there more people left behind, other than us? I had millions of questions running through my mind, with little answers. 

“Look”, I said, my voice raspy from non-use. “I don’t know who you think I am, but I’m not them.” 

She looked at me, and glared, with a fierce scream of rage. 

“YOU’RE NOT REAL”, she screamed, covering her head with her hands. “You’re so stupid, so stupid, so stupid”, she said, murmering to herself. 

I blinked, confused. Who was this young woman? Why was she here? I cleared my throat loudly. “I am very much real, but I won’t be for long, so I would like to know your name, and why you’re here.”, I said, as formally as I could, without coming off as rude. 

She sent me a look of hatred, and leaped toward me, using her feet to push herself off the bed. 

I saw a flash of white, and a glimpse of silver, and the woman came to a sudden stop. 

A boy was standing in front of me, with an iron pan, held in a defensive pose. 

“Stay back, Mary.”, he said, giving me a sideways glance. 

I was shocked. How did this-this, BOY know my name?