To all who have read this story before: This is the original first chapter. If you have come back to find the story has changed it is due to an error on my part in uploading the chapters. Thank you~! -.^y ~Yuni~
On a warm summer's day, a child from a wonderful, yet slightly dangerous relationship came to be. What made the relationship dangerous was that the boy's father's family had a history of what some may have called "dementia at an early age"- or in other terms, madness. It was there but never did the trait trigger for it was more recessive than anything. The mother also carried this slight gene of madness, but, again, it was also a trait beyond triggering.
Both, not realizing that their kid would be affected by this they continued their relationship into the years of marriage and parenthood. Their silver haired baby boy would become the nightmare of their lives.
One night, when the child was but six, he wandered into his parents room. It wasn't a nightmare that awoke him; it was his own longing for something much more dreadful than any nightmare could possibly conjure. On that night, his family- whom the boy loved internally- was torn away from him.
The child had come close to killing his own parents in their sleep. He was unaware how poor his ability to cover his presence was at that time. His mother and father were very light sleepers and they heard him approaching. The father was the first to notice the kid brandishing a small paring knife in his hand to wield as a temporary scalpel and alerted his wife.
Seeing he had no room to make a clean operation, the child lunged at the two people who had helped create him with knife in hand. He was laughing madly as he did so. His body moved violently in the process of injuring his only parents. His father and mother managed to escape their only son and called the police. In the midst of the call, the psychosis stricken boy came to.
The child dropped the knife, horrified. He approached his parents with great worry. "What… did I… do?! I'm sorry," he wailed with great sincerity and sorrow. His parent's flinched away from him at this. He heard his father scream into the phone, "Hurry, he's going to kill us!" The poor kid, not knowing what exactly he had done felt a sense of dread.
Soon sirens could be heard outside the house. Men in uniform knocked in the door with guns and armed suits. They saw the six year old aggressor, his fingers and face splattered a bit from his delirious assault on his caretakers, and immediately grabbed his arms, yanking roughly to apprehend the child. He cried out in pain as they bound him in a strait jacket in a rather brutal manner. He tried to struggle, and get away from the horrible men, but they pushed him down. He looked up at his parents, fear in his eyes. He cried out, begging for his release, "Mom, don't let them take me! Why are they taking me?! Please, I don't want them to take me!" Tears poured down his face as the uniformed men picked him up like a log and carried him out the door.
The uniformed officers threw the child in the back of the van and closed the door, leaving the six year old to cry. He was confused, scared, and above all, betrayed. Why did they let those cruel men take him? What had he done to deserve this? He didn't even know what to call it- whatever had happened to him. What he did know was that it was obviously dangerous to him and other people around him.
He looked out the bars from where he sat in his straitjacket. He saw trees pass by, the moon shining in, and its mouth bloody and laughing as usual. He noted the power lines passing by as well. Soon, after watching what seemed to be a carousel of the outside world, the kid fell asleep.
He awoke to the sun. He was still inside the van. He looked back at the bars. To his dismay, there weren't any trees, and he couldn't see the ever smiling sun, though he could see the light of it. In the place of trees and the sun were buildings, flat, identical, buildings. He scowled at this. He liked living out where he could see different surroundings. He felt at peace when he did so.
He soon felt the van jolt to a stop. He fell forward, almost hitting his head on the hard floor of the vehicle. "Hey," he shouted to let the drivers know he was still back there. The child, once over this perturbing annoyance passed and the van began to move again, started humming "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" to himself. What else could he do when his hands were bound by a jacket? It kept his mind off of the mystery of where they might be taking him.
Another stop again. He had cycled through his list of kids songs known only to him about ten times by this time. He didn't feel the vehicle move again. He did feel the engine cut off. He came to the conclusion that they had reached their destination.
The doors opened, causing the child to squint at the light hat flooded in. Two men in white- possibly doctors from their form of apparel- crouched into the van and yanked their captive up from his place. "Where are we? What is this place," questioned the possibly deranged child. They were silent. The boy looked from his captors and then noticed the blank windowless building in front of the estranged group.