Hello! This is my first fanfiction. This story takes place in the 1950's, and is loosely based on American Horror Story: Asylum. Enjoy! XOXO
Disclaimer: I do not own TMI.
Clary POV
The phrase "You never know what you have until its gone" is bullshit. I have, excuse me, had nothing to lose. But still why me? These thoughts fly through my mind as I'm crouched uncomfortably in back of a rickety old van used for transporting criminals, which I guessed was what I was. The jerk of the van sent my head into the metal caging separating me from the driver. We were here. I looked out the barred window at the towering Victorian looking building. to others this might look like a beautiful hotel of sorts, but is was a prison. Well, not exactly a prison. This was Radcliffe, a mental institution three hours out of town in the middle of no where. The doors to the van shot open, and police officers jerked me out of the van, dragging me into the building. As my eyes roamed around I realized people were flocking to see the arrival of yet another sick, twisted psychopath. I mean, who wouldn't want a front row seat to see the girl who axe murdered her entire family? Let me explain.
A week ago, my entire family was murdered. I was the only one left alive with no harm done whatsoever, so I was a prime suspect. And considering the fact I was sent to a mental institution for a month for severe depression, anxiety and signs of schizophrenia definitely was not going to help. I also had no alibi. So I was declared guilty, but instead of being given the death sentence, I was sent to an Asylum, because what sane person would chop their family to bits? Plus my medical history was not so great.
Lets get one thing straight. I did not kill my family. I don't know who did, or would. And I never would know. The reason I was left unharmed is unknown to me.
I'm pulled back to reality by the sound of a door slamming. Im lead into an area that looks
to be a type of bathroom. I'm stripped, much to my discomfort, and showered, rather violently. After this I am given a horrid looking hospital gown type outfit and a paper cup containing water, with a side of pills. Delightful. I swallow them distastefully and am shoved into a sort of common room. All conversation comes to an abrupt end as I enter. Some look afraid, some look angry. I try to avoid eye contact, as do they, but one person catches my eye. As my eye catches his, I realize he's neither angry or afraid. He looks intrigued, and slightly frustrated. The second thing I notice is that he is absolutely, positively gorgeous. Like, holyshit is he human type of perfect.
His eyes are an enticing shade of gold, as is his hair. His skin is like bronze. Everything about him screams golden god. It also screams jerk. I wonder what a guy like him did to end up in a place like this. Most likely sex addiction or some stereotypical shit. As I tore my eyes away and looked around. This place was a hellhole. People were in the corners rocking back and forth, others playing chess with a faraway look, and far worse. The only seemingly normal one was Goldy. I was getting really sick of all the staring. Anger started to boil up inside me and I felt the need to punch something, someone. I was not crazy. I don't belong here. I thought. A voice interrupted my thoughts.
"Well, well. Your her." A scraggly man drawled, approaching me. "You're probably the most dangerous one here. Chopped your entire family to bits, eh?" I was so tired of this shit. I pulled my hand back and punched him square in the jaw. His hand flew to his face, blood rushing through his fingers. "Oh. You should not have done that." He slurred. "I'm definitely crazy enough to hit a girl." And with that he slapped me. Not, surprised, I punched him repeatedly, until I heard a whistle. I jumped back, only to see one of the crazy bitches who ran this shithole approaching me with a needle.
"No," I began, "No." I struggled, backing against the wall. She injected me. "I'm n-not-" Crazy. Then the black consumed me.
What'd you think? Leave a review! Mwah!
-K