Disclaimer: I do not own the characters that this story is about. All rights belong to the owners.

You know what's the worst part of being in an asylum? You don't know why you're here and even if you do – you don't believe it. You have days when you're just as sane as every person outside the barred windows, but those are short-lived, they soon change into a deep pit of madness. Madness you don't remember being there once you get out. And the voices… They never go away, even on your good days. Most of the time you give them a body, a body of a friend, enemy or something from your imagination, but the fact still remains, the voices in your head have a body and it seems too real.

I can't remember the last time I was outside the madhouse. I can't remember the last day the voice was absent. I can't remember how I became like this, but the voice does and he torments me with it. Only snips, only notes, only small, short squeals. He wants me to get better, just to push me back into the abyss of insanity. And I do indeed feel better and better every day.

Today I managed to look into the mirror and see myself – Lucy Heartfilia and not a nutjob. Even the nurses can see my progress, they say that I will be able to go home.

The wind. I want to laugh and cry from happiness, I can finally feel the wind! It's not the same in the small obstructed area, but it's the last test to see if I won't freak out. I will finally go home after this. Finally.

I started to pack my bags early, being a bit on top of schedule won't hurt, right? In the midst of packing my nurse came in telling me that it's time for my last session with my doctor. The words kept ringing in my ears: "The last session" it sounded like celestial music. Happiness started to bubble inside me again, but the voice wasn't lying about pushing me back.

What could a 20 steps walk do to a person? You could say: "No harm" and you would be so wrong… My doctor thought like that and it ended tragically. What could walking through a wrong door do? Once again – nothing and once again you would be wrong. It can change everything.

Everything

I was near my door, I could almost touch it with my hand when the voice spoke and said the thing that ruined me again: "Wrong door, try the one to the left" I shouldn't have listened to him, I shouldn't have.

With my help the old door opened and I wasn't met with a sight of my comfortable bed with a pink comforter instead I saw a little boy that looked at me in pure horror and then the sane wall tumbled down and I started screaming.

Colours, scenes, voices, screams, they all came back, even my thoughts from back then.

They all came back to haunt me.

I saw myself in a different hospital, with needles stuck to my arm and drips surrounding me, I was sick, but I wasn't insane, I was only ill and getting better every minute.

"Do you want to know what happened next?" the voice asked me end even when I screamed "No!" it didn't listen. "Your disease died down, you were packing your bag just like today and you went all coo-coo"

In reality I doubled up from the voice's laughter, but it didn't stop, he only continued showing me my past.

I dropped something and that sound clicked something inside me and everything became misty.

'What's wrong with me? What's with this mist?' I remembered myself thinking and then my conscious just died.

I remembered seeing a small 8 year-old boy with brown hair and brown eyes so light they looked yellow. Suddenly, he seems guilty for my unconscious mind so I took things into my own hands.

Slowly I walked to him and felt myself smiling the cruellest smile I ever saw on a person. 'I will enjoy this' I thought and reached for a cloth to shut his mouth. With that done I could finally proceed to do what my instincts wanted me to.

I stroked his smooth skin slowly and giggled 'Let the fun begin'. With an easy smash of his forearm to the metal edge of the bed I heard a smash and some whimpers, without another thought I did the same to the other hand.

"But that's not enough" I thought and saw his legs and a fire extinguisher which I could use. "Excellent"

With a nice swing or two I heard more bones shattering, but that still wasn't enough, I wanted to hurt him so bad he couldn't run from it. And the only ones who can't run are the disabled.

I picked him up and threw him back on the bed face first, that kid was as light as a feather, with few more swings I was sure I shattered nearly every single one of his vertebras, but that still wasn't enough.

I looked down at my hands and thought that my long nails might do some good so I threw him back into his original position. The kid squealed like a piglet, but no one come to rescue him.

And I took my chance.

I hadn't tried to rip skin right of the bone without a knife before, screw that, I had never tried to rip skin of with a knife, but that just had to do for now. I had to believe in myself. And I went for it. It was a success.

I felt pieces, sections if skin peeling off and plopping on the ground where I tossed them. Every bit of skin peeled from his face showed me more and more of his skull. I saw bone poking out of muscles, I saw his teeth and dark, empty voids. I moved onto the side of his head. I gripped a fistful of his hair and tugged it and I did that again and again and again. Each time getting rid of more and more hair and skin. I saw his scalp and tissue, I saw his veins and capillaries. His blood was flowing like a flooded river, it started to stain the white bed linen and I couldn't be happier.

I heard a lot. His screams, blood dripping, skin plopping and nurses shouting, I guess they finally found out about me.

With the last tug I released the skin and sucked the blood of my fingers. "I could get used to this" I thought and blacked out.

I blacked out in real life too.

The nurses carried me back to my room, chained me to my bed and locked the door.

I guess I'm not leaving.

Finally I fell into the abyss of madness. I fell right where the voice wanted me to. Abyss.