NOTE: This series is a bunch of journals of a fictional character (Mae Whitlock) that I have made up. However, it is inspired by the book 'The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls" written by Emilie Autumn. As the story progresses, there will be characters from EA's book that will be used eventually. These characters will be noted at the beginning of each journal. I DO NOT OWN THEM.
This series is also being written for The Asylum March. Throughout March 2015, the global Plague Rats will celebrate their art and uniqueness through Emilie Autumn related artwork.
EA References:
The doctor: Dr. Stockhill
The Asylum: The Asylum For Wayward Victorian Girls
The Asylum March: Writing Prompt 1
Journal Entries by Kenzie Alena
Journal I
It was approximately 07:00 when I awoke to the sound of rain falling upon the carriage roof. I had no recollection of my journey thus far. Nor did I know where I was going. Where was I going? I quickly became flustered, my face warming.
"Where the bloody hell are we going!?" I yelled from inside the carriage. Despite my anger, the horses did not stop their trotting. There was no voice to tell me anything. I was alone apart from the driver leading the horses. My anger began to rise, and I began to scream. Some would disagree with my screaming and comment on it as it wasn't lady-like. I tried to open the door, my attempts were futile. Why would my parents do this to me? Why?
I sat on the bench, and settled down a bit. Suddenly, my stomach began to churn. I finally realized something vitally important. I had been sleeping. How could someone not be able to sleep for several weeks, and then suddenly sleep for hours? My memories came flooding back to me from the previous night. My parents called me downstairs, when I arrived, I was introduced to the doctor my parents had been sending for numerous times. Out of nowhere, my parents came towards me and sat me down in the armchair by the fireplace. The doctor approached me, and eyed me with indifference. "This may hurt just a bit," he said, a syringe in his hand. Suddenly, I felt a piercing pain in my left arm, a pained cry escaped had escaped my lips. By that point, my mind began to cloud with thick fog, all thoughts incomprehensible.
My anger boiled again, thoughts circulating in my head like a wildfire. How could my parents do this to me?! Why was I being sent away? What could possible possess them to send me on a journey to a place that I don't know? I worry for myself. My stomach is in knots and I have a feeling that I'm not being sent to Grandmother's.
Within a few more hours, the sun began to peak through the darkened clouds, trying to exterminate the darkness of them. Somehow I knew my journey was almost over, soon we would be arriving at our destination. Minutes later, the carriage stopped in front of a large set of gates, a plaque on the cement walls that enclosed the establishment read, "The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls." I shuddered at the word "Asylum." My parents thought me mad! They sent me here because they thought I am a lunatic? I may be stubborn, but I am not insane. Surely this was a mistake. The large gates suddenly opened and the carriage carried on down the large lane to the Asylum entrance.
On the front steps, there wait a tall, well-structured man. I could not determine the expression on his face until the carriage stopped, a few feet away from the steps. His face held both indifference and faint excitement. Though the expressions were contradictory, they still sent a shiver down my spine. The driver of the carriage went to convey a message to the man waiting upon the steps, and then came to remove the device on the carriage door; the device that kept me locked safely inside. The carriage driver nearly pulled me out of the carriage and slammed the door behind me. He aggressively grabbed for both of my hands, and the waiting man stepped forward to bind my hands. He grinned a faint, but wicked smile and said, "Welcome to the Asylum."
~ Mae Whitlock