The Asylum for the Mentally Unstable

February 18. Tuesday

I think Hell would be more pleasant than this. No. I know it would be. 

Mattie's death was today. "Incurable" they said, "cursed by God" they whispered. I remember being woken up while it was still dark. I remember how sore my cut was, and that I was picking at it overnight. But all I could hear was Mattie's weeping. I remember scrambling off my bed over to my cage's door. "Mattie. Mattie," I whispered, getting his attention. I heard him sniffle and turn around. The hallway was blacker than our demonic priest's robes. Blacker than sin.

 "I'm... I'm not ready," he said. I heard his arm go through the bars, reaching for me. I reached back, barely wrapping my fingers around his. "I'm not even 18 yet."
"Shh. " I whispered "Death will not be painful. I promise you. It will be the warmest and most comfortable thing you have ever experienced. And you're gonna see your parents again. And they will hug you and welcome you to heaven." He squeezed my fingers.
"But I killed them. Will they really want me back?" He said with a sob. My chest tightened. "Are they going to want me back?"
"Of course they will. You're their son. And nothing can change that. You didn't want to kill them, the voices did. They will forgive you. As soon as Death takes you, you will be cured. And when you're cured, you won't hear them anymore."
"Can you sing the lullaby?" He asked quietly. He was talking about the lullaby a nurse sings to the little ones when they can't sleep. Most of us had managed to learn it at this point, after hearing it drift down the wings of the asylum. We would sing it to eachother when we were scared or sad. Sometimes, one of us would start to hum I'm the middle of the night. Often it was me, trying to chase away the people I saw. "Please?"
I started to sing the familiar words. The melody hung, unbroken for once. The song of a lost meadow and a lost soul rang through the hallway. I heard a few teens start to hum along from their cells. And for a brief second, peace filled our wing.
Until the guard came. He started screaming for us to shut our mouths. He turned on the bright lights, startling all of us. A few screamed. Mattie started to shake, and he clung onto my arm tighter. The guard brought the heavy butt of his gun down on our linked hands. Pain exploded through my arm as I felt bones crack inside. We sprang apart, each clutching our broken hands. He started to cry, begging to be let free. I, on the other hand, took a less cowardly approach. I picked up my metal bowl in my good hand and threw it threw the bars of my cell. It hit the guard in the back, causing him to freeze and turn slowly. I instantly regretted my actions.
He unlocked my door and grabbed my arms, pulling me close to his sour breath. "Listen little girl. Clearly you haven't learned your lesson yet. Do not fight people who are bigger than you." He hits me across the cheek with his baton, causing me to fly away from him. "Do you understand?" He says kicking me in the rib cage. Blood spurted from my mouth.
"Yes," I wheezed. He kicked me again before picking me up and shoving me into the concrete wall. I gasped as my freshly bruised cheek hit the cold wall. Tears threatened to spill out of my eyes, but I swallowed them down.
"Good." He hissed in my ear before shoving me back to the ground. He stormed out of my cell and slammed the door shut. "Go to bed, you idiots!" He roared as the lights turned off. I scrambled over to my bed and curled in a small ball on it. The tears cane back, and this time they broke free. I hadn't cried in months, and this brute broke me.
Later on, it was time for Mattie to go. We were pushed into the altar of the asylum, all of us. Underneath the cross and the suffering savior, sat an electric chair. It was threatining in every possible sense of the word. We all had our heads lowered, avoiding eye contact with the chair. Mattie was pushed down the isle, wearing a clean hospital gown and he obviously got a nice bath. Tears wet his cheeks and his hands shook. He prayed under his breath as he passed us. The Lords prayer. One that would supposedly save us. The guards roughly shoved him in and attached the metal cap to his head. He began to pray louder, panicking as he was tied down. I swallowed roughly, trying not to cry again. The priest came up to him and touched his forehead, instantly shutting him up. He began his sermon as the chair was plugged in and started charging up.
Nobody was listening. Nobody cared. Nobody wanted this to happen to them. Eventually,  the switch was flicked. Volts of electricity attacked Mattie. He managed to scream once. But only once. After about ten minutes,  they turned off the chair and pulled the corpse from it. Mattie's gold hair had burned off, leaving a bloody pulp as the top of his head. His fingers were permanently curled and his eyes were glued open. I let out a shuddery breath, feeling my heart seize up in pain.