Slaughterhouse

Listen to me! I am not acting, I am not bluffing, and this is not a phase. I can not express how mad it drives me when people are trying to get into my mind. My intellectual being is not normal, but I promise you that I am sane.

Or am I sane? I once read an article that said someone who was dubbed insane subconsciously knew about their madness but yet was in denial. Was this the case? Were these walls that were imprisoning me actually here? Or was this all just some sick nightmare in where I was going to wake up any second?

What about me as a person? Was I some kind of illusion dreamed up by some sick bastard who thought my life would be a good story? Was I the star to some kind of horror film? If so, then wouldn't that mean my entire existence is just a lie? Would it mean I am not technically alive, but someone's demented fantasy?

I don't believe it. The only person who is mad enough to think up someone like me would be... well... me.

Oh no. Did I just say that? Did I just admit that I was mad without me even realizing it? What the hell is going on? Where am I? The grime on the walls, this is not my home. Although my home isn't exactly the picture perfect idea of cleanliness, this is definitely not it.

 “Snap out of it.” A voice that seemed so distant but yet so close. “Hey psycho, come back to reality.” I was now hearing a second noise, the sounds of someone snapping their fingers together. My vision couldn't find where it was coming from, but after doing a three-sixty a man wearing a blue uniform came into sight. “Somebody is here to see you.” I cocked up my brow.

 “Who would be here to see me?” I questioned.

“I don't know. He isn't on your contacts list, but he's still a kid, so be nice to him.”

 “Why? I'm as good as dead anyway.”

 “Because I told you to.” He put an emphasis on the second word.

 I stuck my hands through the bars as he cuffed them. He then unlocked the cage, slid the door open, and motioned his finger for me walk towards him. I did as he said as he escorted me down the corridor. Other women were trapped behind bars as well, them all giving me dirty looks as I walked by. I stopped in front of one of them, staring at a girl who was not looking at me coldly like the others, but yet in the corner of her cell with her arms wrapped around her knees. Tears filled her eyes, she was weak.

 “Oh suck it up. You being here is your fault. Deal with it.” She looked up at me, confusion filled her eyes. “Don't act like I stuttered. Get a grip on yourself, woman up, and stop being an idiot.” I found myself smiling like a little girl who just bought her first Barbie.

 “Continue walking, Sophia.” The guard ordered. I did not listen.

 “Why are you crying? Huh? You think your life is so bad? You don't understand what it's like to have a bad life. You're pathetic. You're nobody. And you better remember that.”

 “I said to keep walking!” He raised his voice this time. I did a full one-eighty, using the momentum from the rotation to land a blow to the side of his face. He made a muffled sound and then fell flat on his back. I could already see the blood welting up around his eye and cheek.

 “You don't tell me what to fucking do!” In moments more guards showed up to restrain me. They pulled me out of the corridor by my jumpsuit sleeve and violently escorted me to the visiting room. I was forced into a chair and was cuffed around the wrists to the arms.. I struggled to get out of the seat, but it was no use. Stainless steel was not easy to break.

 “You can't hold me here forever! You hear me?!” I screamed at the guards as they were walking away. “I'll kill you!” I kept flailing my arms and legs until I realized I wasn't going to be going anywhere for the next few hours.