I hear voices. In the seamless transition between deep slumber and awakening, they come to me in multitudes. All of them vicious, chastising, brutal. They visit me relentlessly. They pound at me, leaving me shaken and exhausted. I dread these times. These voices tell me to do things for them, evil things. I try not to do them yet it is as if my body would rather follow their will and not my own. I quake and tremble when I look back on some of the things I have done. These things are too hideous, grisly, and horrid to describe here. I relish the day when death will rid me of this twisted and tormented life which I have lived. When I�m alone I break down and ask myself � Why has God forsaken me so?�, the voices answer my question by reciting sins from past lives. I look for death everyday but it is nowhere to be found. I am beginning to think this is not the Earth at all, but Hell itself. Maybe this is why I was put in this asylum. Maybe the world is Hell and the devil doesn�t want anyone to know. Maybe I should try to escape and spread the word. Who am I kidding? No one would believe me, an asylum escapee. It�s hopeless�But wait doc I want to finish my story! Please don�t give me the medicine! I want to finish my story. Please� don�t �.. I �..ZZZZZZZZZ |
