Insanity Hall

By , Boise, ID
The tips of my white nurse’s shoes softly echo in the huge entrance. Every time I wonder, should I enter or run away and never come back. My feet always drag me farther and farther pushing me through the entrance. Once through the entrance, the large metal door squeaks as it slams shut behind me. Unlike the other halls, this one is not silent. The shrieks of men and women boom through the long hall. The Insanity Hall. As I slowly make my way to the first door, my hand rests on the handle. Slowly I push it open. I make my way into the ripe room, the stench making me wrinkle my nose in disgust. I bring my head up to look at the first patient. I had just made my first mistake. As I look into the twisted face of the patient I see myself, wiggling and producing piercing screams as I struggle in my straight jacket. The halls are closing in on me. Is it I the insane one? Am I in my own insane chamber in my head? Is the insanity hall now my home? Are my thoughts holding me in some kind of straight jacket? Trapped forever in the mental hall of insanity.





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The Writer said...
Nov. 1, 2011 at 11:31 am
The story has a good idea, but incongruency and grammatical errors towards the end detract from the full effect. Great subject! :D
 
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