Post by dark on Aug 25, 2007 16:25:58 GMT -5
Dear Reader,
I was told to write this in order to get my feelings out. Unfortunately for the doctor, I’ve decided not to give him the satisfaction of seeing this little journal or whatever he called it. Where am I? I am currently residing in Upton Asylum; all the way in Cheshire, New England. Who am I? I don’t think I’ll tell you until the second entry of this ‘Journal’. How old am I? Right now, as far as I know, I’m currently fifteen years old. I was thrown in hear for ‘sprouting nonsense and having lost my mind’. If only life could be simple and not cruel.
I tell them what they want to know and yet…I get thrown into a room in an asylum. The jackets here are quite comfortable believe it or not. That is, until you have to scratch your nose. Evil aren’t they? Apparently, I’m to stay in this wretched place until I’m ‘normal’ again or at least ‘tell them the correct information.’ I’ve had a total of three sessions with the doctor. All of them weren’t successful in his eyes, in my eyes though, I think we’re bonding quite well.
The last session was when he told me to start this thing. His exact words were,” I’ve realized that you don’t seem to get your words out well. So I want you to start writing a journal. You can put anything in there, even your stories that you’ve told us. When you’re writing, however, you’re to be watched by someone in order to make sure you’re safe. Don’t worry, they won’t read what you write.” He was serious about someone watching me. I guess we haven’t exactly bonded well then to be aloud to write on my own.
True to his word, the people watching me haven’t read a single word I’m writing right now. Want to know something funny? The doctor never said I had to show him the ‘journal’ I’m writing. I can’t wait to see his look when I tell him that. That’s why what I said before is going to be true. Then again, there aren’t many places to hide a ‘journal’ in an asylum are there? Oh well, that’s where the ‘crazy mind’ I apparently have comes in.
I would write more, but I think I hear my doctor coming. Like I said, I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing this.
I was told to write this in order to get my feelings out. Unfortunately for the doctor, I’ve decided not to give him the satisfaction of seeing this little journal or whatever he called it. Where am I? I am currently residing in Upton Asylum; all the way in Cheshire, New England. Who am I? I don’t think I’ll tell you until the second entry of this ‘Journal’. How old am I? Right now, as far as I know, I’m currently fifteen years old. I was thrown in hear for ‘sprouting nonsense and having lost my mind’. If only life could be simple and not cruel.
I tell them what they want to know and yet…I get thrown into a room in an asylum. The jackets here are quite comfortable believe it or not. That is, until you have to scratch your nose. Evil aren’t they? Apparently, I’m to stay in this wretched place until I’m ‘normal’ again or at least ‘tell them the correct information.’ I’ve had a total of three sessions with the doctor. All of them weren’t successful in his eyes, in my eyes though, I think we’re bonding quite well.
The last session was when he told me to start this thing. His exact words were,” I’ve realized that you don’t seem to get your words out well. So I want you to start writing a journal. You can put anything in there, even your stories that you’ve told us. When you’re writing, however, you’re to be watched by someone in order to make sure you’re safe. Don’t worry, they won’t read what you write.” He was serious about someone watching me. I guess we haven’t exactly bonded well then to be aloud to write on my own.
True to his word, the people watching me haven’t read a single word I’m writing right now. Want to know something funny? The doctor never said I had to show him the ‘journal’ I’m writing. I can’t wait to see his look when I tell him that. That’s why what I said before is going to be true. Then again, there aren’t many places to hide a ‘journal’ in an asylum are there? Oh well, that’s where the ‘crazy mind’ I apparently have comes in.
I would write more, but I think I hear my doctor coming. Like I said, I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing this.
Clever aren’t I?
E.G.
E.G.