Sitting in front of her mirror, Lula carefully applied her cosmetics to her olive toned skin. She ran a brush through her fiery red hair, then let out a remorseful sigh. A face stared back at her in the mirror, but Lula couldn�t quite recognize it. The eyes that had once lustered innocence and vitality, had faded to a dull gray. There just wasn�t the same essence in her spirit anymore, it was like she had died years ago, and this is what was left of her decaying self. Lula reached out to touch the mirror�s reflection, almost expecting her finger to pass through it, as though she didn�t exist. Lula collapsed upon her satin sheeted bed and closed her eyes. Her mind began to wander further and further from reality, into a dream like state, while the world faded into a disarray of confusion.
The cold wet path seemed to carry on forever. Moss hung like long slender fingers off tree limbs, giving them an almost human like nature. Thick brush sheltered the ground, and an array of fungi covered every stump. Lula felt the mud squish between her toes, sending chills down her spine every step she took. As she progressed further and further down the path, a feeling so primal and natural soon filled her veins. Almost like a wild beast, Lula ripped her clothes from off her body and let out an ears piercing wail. Instantly she fell down on her hands and knees, and began lurking like a famished pretender in search for prey. Stopping for a brief moment, Lula looked down at the filth that coated her naked flesh. The humor of the situation took control of Lula�s consciousness, as she sat strait up in bed, then broke into uncontrollable laughter.
The next morning Lula�s alarm failed to go off, and she arrived late to school. She bustled into her first period Art class while the teacher flashed her a disappointed look. As the teacher made her way over to Lula�s desk, she could feel her stomach twisting in agony. �You know what this means don�t you Lula?� The teacher calmly questioned her with a tone of concern, �This is your ninth tardy, I�m afraid you will have to be dropped from this class� A look of desperation filled Lula�s eyes. �But Mr. Uman, my alarm, I mean I forgot to set my alarm! Oh you can�t do this to me, you don�t understand, it will never happen again I promise!� The teacher rolled his eyes, � Lula you said that the time before, and the time before that, and the time before that. Now I�m sorry dear, you are a very talented artist, but it�s school policy, and I can do nothing to change that, I hope you understand.� As he began to turn his back Lula felt an uncontrollable rage of anger and insanity tingle throughout her body. �God damned bastard!� She wailed, then picked up her clay vase and hurled it at the man�s head. The vase and his skull collided with such an impact that it knocked him on his face while the vase broke into a thousand pieces. Everything around Lula seemed to move in slow motion, as if time had stopped. The reality of what she had done couldn�t quite channel it�s way beneath her skin. She saw a deep crimson stream of blood flowing from Mr. Uman�s bald head. Faces like porcelain dolls all seemed foced on her as time stood still. Lula�s heart beat became idle and cold sweat collected on her brow. Now numb and pale as a ghost, she felt that primal laughter once again rumble in her gut. She tried as hard as she could to repress it but it just wouldn�t stay down. Exploding with laughter Lula was soon reduced to rolling on the floor wildly. Suddenly everything became much more real to her, as she sat up and slowly eyed the room. She noticed that in fact nobody was paying much attention to her at all, the audience seemed attracted to Mr. Uman lying unconscious on the hard vinyl flooring. Lula saw her chance to flee, backing up ever so slowly, then placing her foot out side the door. But before she could make her bold escape a firm hand grasped her arm.
The white padded walls seemed to close in on Lula as she lay motionless on the wheel-in bed. A bright light shone in her face, almost blinding her eyes, but still she did not blink or let alone move a muscle. The only link that she had to the outside world was a small barred window, where Lula could see cars flying by on the freeway. She would sometimes stick her nose outside the bars and inhale a long adequate breath of car exhaust, which was a treat compared to the nauseous stench of rubbing alcohol and vomit. One hour a day Lula was permitted to wander the Asylum halls and watch Television in the lounge. One day while taking one of her walks, Lula spotted a man with long jet black hair and a ghostly white complexion. He was stretched out in a lawn chair by the open window with a pair of sunglasses and shorts on. Lula couldn�t help but stare as she walked by. �Are you crazy or something?� she sarcastically scoffed at the man. At that remark he merely snorted, �Funny you should say that, I don�t suppose you�re here because of your firm grasp of reality eh?� Lula felt enraged, as her face soon matched the color of her scarlet red hair. �Hey, you take that back!� she painfully cried. �Tough� the man snickered, and then went back to his sunbathing. Lula let out a horrific scream and heaved an encyclopedia from off the bookshelf at the man�s head, but missed and hit the wall. In disbelief the dark harried man jumped out of his comfortable seat. �Know what? You�re just like one of giant stars, supernovas, they build up pressure until they turn red and blow up!� Lula maintained an arrogant stern face and gave the man a mischievous look. She felt a tear forming in the corner of her eye, and decided it was time to return to her hermit like existence. As she turned her back and walked down the dimly lit hall she could hear the whispers of other inmates echo about the building.
The next day while strolling through the halls she passed the peculiar man again, but this time he wore a pink lace trimmed dress and a pair of ruby high heels shoes. His lips were colored blood red, and a shadow of dark blue he wore around his eyes. Lula could hardly contain herself from erupting in laughter as she passed the flimsy drag queen impersonator, but she continued down the corridor without giving the man even a vulgar gesture. The curious man set down his latest issue of Vogue Magazine and watched the crimson headed young girl pass him down the hall. �So what do you think of my ensemble today?� Lula slowly turned around keeping a strait face. �Why would my opinion be of any importance to you, Queen of the Nile?� A look of offense crossed the man�s face. �Now, now who are we to judge on an appearance? Just because a man fashioned himself as women while reading a copy of Vogue magazine in an insane asylum, doesn�t give you the right to call him a lunatic, now does it?� Frustration was teeming in Lula�s eyes, �Listen buddy, I don�t know what your problem is but why don�t we just make believe that nothing ever happened between us? Got it?! I don�t know you-� Lula stopped in mid sentence to see that the man�s once glowing face had a grim expression on it. �Hey, I�m sorry, I didn�t mean to upset you, it�s just that- it would be better for both of us if we stayed as far away as possible from each other. You understand don�t you?� A madness pervaded in the man�s face as he lowered his head into his lap. Lula shrugged her shoulders and ran her fingers through her flowing red hair. She sighed remorsefully and began to head back to her room. Before she could take a step forward, the deranged man picked up a vase from off the table and heaved it at Lula�s head.
