I'm sure some of u are confused but i promise everything will be cleared up soon.

"Isabel, is it?"

I stare mutely at the white floor through the thick curtain of my dirty, sickly brown hair, unblinking, unmoving. My hair was thick and long and sticking together with grime and sweat. They'll have to cut it soon, for sure.

"Isabel?"

They brought me here two meals after every session, to this room, where a man is always waiting, always talking through the haze that is my brain. I never heard any of it. I used to wonder when they would realize it was pointless, but I stopped caring. I stopped doing a lot of things.

"Isabel!"

The name fell on deaf ears. I recognised it, registered that it was, in fact, my name, but it did not elicit a response. It hasn't done so for a while now.

"Ah. So it's going to be like that." There was a faint frustrated sigh and then silence exept for the scratching of pen on paper.

They all started out like this. It was pathetic really. These psychiatrists, as they call themselves, they try to break me down, try to categorize me, to understand my behaviour, so they can help me.They give up eventually, and pass me on to the next poor doctor who has to deal with my silence.

There is a shuffling of paper and I know he is reading my rather large file. I've been diagnosed with countless illnesses of the mind; schizophrenia, compulsive lying, duel personality, catatonia, I had a superiority complex one day, and an inferiority one the next, all of them failing to explain my unresponsiveness to the respective treatment. They're grasping at straws, trying to get lucky. They know it, and they know I know it too. I was still a 'freak'. I don't understand many of the terms they use here, but that one stuck.

"Isabel? Do you find something interesting with the floor?"

This man ... I would have liked his voice before. Before I stopped listening. It was a nice deep baritone, soothing almost. Something you could tune out as easily as it you could listen to.

I tuned it out; it was second nature to me. It seemed almost wrong to listen.

"Isabel, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

To anyone else, the cold, hard metal seat would be uncomfortable, but I barely felt it. Yes, the shackles on the arm rests were digging into my sore wrists, but I didn't care. Yes, the flat surface of the seat was hurting my back, but I ignored it. I stayed stark still. I could have been made of stone if it were not for the chest movements of my breathing. I almost wish I was.

"It's okay if you do not wish to talk; how about writing? Or drawing? Would you like to draw something for me?"

I could see it already. This one would try hard, get nowhere, and give up within seven and four sessions. I told one of them that once, back when I was naive and stupid and believed when they said I could trust them.

They increased my dosage.

"Are you hungry, Isabel? Thirsty maybe?"

I vaguely remember numbers. I could count to seven, but not a digit more. I used to hold on to my memories, the memories of a life before this one. I held on as tightly as I could, and surely enough, they began to slowly, painfully, slip away, until they seemed more illusions than reality. The imaginary creations of a delusional mind.

"There's no need to be shy. We're all family here."

Family. The word is foreign to me. I knew it by definition. But the concept of such close bonds between people seemed impossible to me; I was barely even self aware.

The doctor seems to realize that I am stubbornly disinclined to talk, and wisely leaves me be. My gaze shifts from the floor to my lap. The plain white cloth is itchy and dirty, sticking to my skin.

Time passes.

The nurse, standing at attention by the door at all times, comes to lead me back to my cell. I stumble behind on wobbly legs, my eyes trained on the immaculate floor. I trip and fall on the steep steps down to the lower regions. The nurse grips my arm tighter and drags me along, uncaring. I am stored away in the pit hole of my cell, breathing in the toxic fumes of human waste, awaiting the next bout of pain.

I'm so sorry this is so short. next chap will be up soon I hope.

review and it'll make me super happy!!