Post by EMALEAH VICTORIA RAYNE on Oct 7, 2012 16:26:20 GMT -5
| [atrb=style, width: 400px; height:417px; background-image:URL(http://i47.tinypic.com/34et6i8.jpg);][atrb=border,0,true] [scrolly:h(200),w(300),sy]Strange. They'd just let her in here. She'd walked right up to the nurse on guard duty, like an obedient mutt. She'd batted her blue eyes, smiled at him with her plump lips, and asked to be allowed into the isolation room. He must have worked at the asylum for a very long time because he didn't ask any questions, didn't give her any strange looks. He simply stated that there was no one in the isolation room and that he supposed it wouldn't hurt anything. He never even looked up from the book he held in his hand. She had almost laughed. If she were in his place she probably wouldn't have wanted to know what a girl in an asylum was doing putting herself in an isolation room. Leah actually liked the room. She reflected on this as she stepped into the room. It's white walls were intended to give the patient nothing to fuel their mind. It was slightly padded to avoid patients inflicting any harm on themselves. This room was a prison for many. She knew that. For her it was an escape. As long as she wasn't forced to spend long hours or days or weeks trapped in the room, it was an escape. It allowed her to think. To let her mind fly away, discover truths about herself that she had never known. Currently Leah sat down in the middle of the room, back to the door and eyes glued to the wall in front of her. Suddenly, her mind was showing her images. Images of her splattering the wall in front of her in paint. Red paint. Black paint. She was watching it drip off of her hands. Little circles of black and red growing on the floor. Soon she was painting her hair with it. Her body. She could feel how cold it was, how sticky it was. The way it squeezed her as it dried. |
