I clung to my father's long trench coat against the rain and the wind, my tears leaving mismatched patterns on the sleeve. Nurses in white took my valise from my hand and began to send my things inside.
"No daddy!" I screamed, trembling with terror. "Please Daddy,don't leave me here!"
The nurse with red hair took my hands and peeled them off his arm. A man with hands cold and hard as ice took my other arm and began to lead me away. I wrenched away from them both and tried to see my father as he hurried back to the car. His face was solemn, ashamed. My mother looked almost pleased in the front seat, proud to have won this fight. Cynthia had her face pressed against the window, her little hands trying to pull it down. I stopped fighting for a moment and tried to smile at her, to let her know that I would be okay, but I felt the smile sour on my face as the car drove away.
As soon as they were driving I stopped fighting altogether. I just stood there, numb, trying to forget them, trying to not feel anything. I let them take me away from the steps and into the towering brick fortress which was to be my prison.
They led me through grey halls and to a room with a large chair. I started to shake. Electroshock therapy. New tears slipped down as I anticipated the pain that would come.
A woman in the corner smiled at me, understanding my fear. "Honey, we are just gonna get you in some comfortable clothes and cut your hair so it's a little easier for you. Is that alright?"
I tried to nod and she had me sit still for a moment while a man in black came in. He took away my pretty pink dress and had me slip on a white gown, something like a nightgown or chemise. It itched. The nurses watched with needles and clasps ready as I was forced to sit still as the man slowly cut off my hair. One by one he shaved off the glassy black curls that had been my one beauty. When they lead me to my cell, I caught a glimpse of myself in a barred window and screamed. Without my hair there was nothing to hide my face from the horror it had become. My lips were chewed to bits from the screams I fought back with each new vision, my eyes invisible above deep purple rings the nightmares had etched into my skin. My cheeks were ashen and I looked dead already.
The cells and rooms are windowless. Without the light, a bit of sunshine, all hope has died. The people here are strange and they scream and fight, and hurt each other. I sit in a corner in the "Fellowship Hall", rubbing my small embroidered handkerchief for hours, waiting to die. It only takes six days to fall entirely into the madness that has slowly crawled beneath my skin. I do not resurface.