Last time I promised that I would put up the new chapter quicker than I did before. Sorry, I was lying. I won't say something like that this time, but I promise that I haven't given up on this story.

Summary of last chapter: Alice has been in the asylum for four years already. Robert says "Soon." and Alice doesn't know what he's talking about, and she's trying to figure out.

"Soon."

That was what Robert had told me yesterday. I remember that he had once said something similar before, but my memories do not stretch back far enough so that I can remember what he said. Torture is the one constant reminder, and as I had focused on it, years ago, the rest of my mind blurred.

However, the word soon gives me hope. It could be "Soon, you will die." or "Soon, you will escape." Both prospects cheer me, and the corners of my mouth lift into an unfamiliar shape.

Then a vision clouds my thoughts.

However, it is not the one I always have. This one… is full… of light…

It burns my eyes and I squint, trying to make the pain go away, and then it's over.

Furious, I utter an expletive that I've heard often when patients pass my room, and start gently hitting my head against the wall. As I get more frustrated, I hit my head harder and harder, until-

"So it's true. She's perfect for it." Robert murmured quickly and quietly to himself. "It could be great."

-until I finally remembered what he had said.

"So it's true. She's perfect for it. It could be great." I repeated, trying to remember more.

The Robert in my head nodded encouragingly and smiled.

"So it's true. She's perfect for it. It could be great." I said loudly, noticing that my voice sounded very strange. I started to pace up and down the room, murmuring the words to myself frantically. I considered stopping, but every time I paused, the Robert in my head told me harshly to think back as far back as possible, and since I had nothing better- nothing else- to do, I obeyed.

And then when he started telling me that I needed to remember more and that I had to remember more, I started straining my memories as hard as I could.

Running my fingers through my boyish haircut, I scrunched up my face and tried to sift through my memories, though the days were the same, and as soon as I got close to remembering more, I got mixed up with similar days and started thinking about yesterday.

Eventually, exhausted, I slumped against the wall, but bolted upwards with a cry of disgust; I had sat on a cold rat corpse. After a small pause in which I kicked the rat out of the way, I rested my head against the wall.

The wall.

I began to hit my head against the wall as hard as I could.

Thanks for reading :D xoxo