I never understood why I was here, why they all abandoned me in this dark and lonely place. The caretakers would never let me out, brushing off my pleas. They would never let me play with the other children, saying it was "too dangerous". But I was lonely, with just this empty voice in my head. I wanted a friend, one that would play with me. I had a friend once. I had an old friend that I faintly remember, but I dont know what happened to her. She just... disappeared one day, without even saying goodbye. It wasn't until the day of her Birthday Party that I realized she had left me. I asked Mom if I could go over to her house, but she said I couldn't see her anymore.
"Because she left..." Mom had replied softly.
Those were the only memories I have, the rest a black and white blur. But even still, I missed my friend, but I was even more angry at the fact that she had left me. I often awoke in the middle of the night, finding fresh blood on the old walls of my room, fixated into a mixture of different languages. I couldn't read most of the words, but the ones I could read... sort of struck out to me. The frantic handwriting, and those words... they taunted me.
They told stories, stories of my lost memories, stories I couldn't bring myself to believe. But, a part of me was fascinated, and wanted more of these tales. More of these... dark and secretive... stories.
More of this Addictive Madness, to settle my hunger. Eventually, I became the one writing these stories, these stories. These stories of my past, that nobody knew. I wished to share these stories, to share them with my only friend. But then I remembered, I remembered that my only friend had left me. Trapped me into this world of darkness, alone.
"Was it her fault...?"
"This pain and madness?"
"Was it my fault for allowing her to leave..?"
"That must be it..."
My voice that of a faint whisper, cold and almost silent, just like me.
I had forced myself to keep my eyes open for so long. To try and see in this darkened place. To create my crimson art, and never let sleep overtake me. But now, the madness and darkness has driven me tired. I decided, that maybe this darkness wasn't such a bad thing. I finally let myself close my eyes, and fell asleep. For the first time in a while, I was at peace... in this darkness.
But it still pleagued me, the unknown truth behind why my friend would abandon me. I never asked her to leave, so why...? Is it possible that she knew I would end up here, in this dark room, in this asylum...? I hoped not, but I wish she were here...
I shot up from my sleep, a huffing mess. It was all a dream. All the pain and madness... just a dream. But it felt so real. The light and the warmth of life welcomed me, but it felt strangely... wrong. I felt like something was missing. I remembered everything from the Asylum, which felt odd to me. And I was still sick, still plagued by the madness, still craving my stories.
"She had left me..." I recalled, and then I remembered. Frantically bringing myself to the calender in the livingroom, I saw that it was friday, and a sigh escaped me. "I have two days..." I murmered, failing to notice mom giving me a strange look from the couch.
"Angela, darling, is everything all right?" Mom questioned. I turned at the mention of my name, and tried to pull of a reliefed smile.
"Uh... yeah, I thought I over slept. Hey, can I go to my friends house today? I have something I need to do."
