I don't own anything.
The Language of Madness
Prologue ~ 13 Years Ago
3rd Person POV
"Where are we going, Daddy?" The three year old yawned.
"To a very special place, Sweetheart, but you have to be very quiet so that Mommy and Baby Ella don't wake up." The man told her.
"O-tay, Daddy!" She replied, sleepily, as they walked outside into the darkness.
They drove away and as they left the neighborhood, the child was already sleeping softly in her car-seat. The man smiled darkly as his plan unfolded smoother than he had expected. After only a half-hour of driving, the car pulled into the parking lot of a big white building and parked next to the new sign that read:
"Itex Institution for the Mentally Unfit"
The man woke his daughter, picked her up and out of the car, and gave her the little suitcase he had packed full of her clothes. She grabbed it and followed her father, pulling it behind her. He led her into the building, through the sliding doors, and up to the front desk where another man was waiting.
"Ter Borcht," he greeted.
"Jeb," he nodded to the man. "I trust everything went as planned?"
"Better." He said.
"Good. You know what to do."
"Yes, sir."
He looked sympathetically down at his daughter, "Come on, Honey, I'll show you your new room."
"But, Daddy, what 'bout my old room?" She asked, confusion filling her tired voice.
"It'll be okay, Honey, just follow me."
She did what she was told and went with him as he led her through a labyrinth of halls and doors. They finally reached the longest hallway she had seen so far, with many small, gray doors lining both sides of it. Her father walked up to one and she followed closely.
He opened it and ushered her in, saying, "This is your new room, Honey."
She looked around with a grimace at the small white bed in one corner and the gray desk in the other.
"I don't wanna live here, Daddy!" She cried, suddenly very scared, but the door had already closed behind him and she heard the clicking of the lock.
"Daddy? Daddy, I wanna go home! Daddy!" She screamed, wet tears beginning to slide down her cheeks. She ran over to the hard bed and buried her face in the pillow, small sobs escaping from her throat.
~XXXXXXOXXXXXX~
Valencia Martinez rolled over as the sun streamed into her bedroom and noticed the emptiness of her bed and saw that her husband wasn't there. She didn't think anything of it until fifteen minutes had passed and he still hadn't returned. She got up slowly, put her slippers on, and walked downstairs into the kitchen.
"Jeb?" She called. No answer.
"Jeb?" She tried again, louder.
"Jeb?" No answer. She looked around for a note he may have left her and found nothing. She went into her youngest daughter's room and found only the sleeping two year-old. Then, she went into her three year-olds room and saw the deflated sheets and abandoned blankets. She looked under the bed, anticipating a "Boo!" or careless laughter, but found nothing. Nothing. Not even the suitcase she had bought last summer before their vacation to Disney World.
"Max?" She yelled, frantically.
"MAX!"
"MAX!"