The cuffs hurt. They dug into me, pinching and pulling on the tender skin around my wrists; and the cold metal touching my hot flesh made the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. My eyes, tired from fighting, from screaming, crying, straining to see through the flashing red white and blue lights that invaded my humble home last night; they squinted at the brutal sun rays beating down on me as though I had a spotlight on a stage, and the police officers pulled me roughly by the collar of my pale yellow dress. I stumbled, the shackles around my ankles were tight; I could barely take a step without feeling them painfully jerk my legs together. I felt like an animal – some sort of dog, and one that they had yet to tame; the men were rough, merciless with their direction, and unforgiving.

My heart pumped a slow, broken beat and filled my veins with hot blood, and at the same time as I physically felt it beating, I felt as though it had stopped; cutting off my breathing and turning my blood to ice. It was a hot August day, and I still shivered.

Never in my entire life had I imagined I would end up here. My whole life, I was so well structured – I had all A's throughout school, I did all my chores, I never stayed out late. Always sober, always making good decisions. And now, here I am, my limbs shackled together, police officers surrounding me, being led up the front steps to Briarcliff Manor.

I didn't understand. I didn't want to understand. Everything I had, everything I loved – it was all gone. All of my trust, my faith, my values and morals, my entire life. I created my own destiny, and I worked so hard at it; I was in complete control of my life, and I was finally happy. Although my childhood was a bit rough, my hard-working father and my sick mother had given me a chance at such a beautiful life. When I was a young girl, we never had much money. My poor father struggled to keep up with our expenses; and between me, my 3 sisters, and my mother's hospital bills, we barely had enough food to put on the table once a week. Some days were harder than others; but I always told myself it would get better. I got frustrated sometimes, always feeling pressured; my parents, they loved me, and they pushed me. They knew exactly what I was capable of, and they knew my sisters weren't as driven. I turned out to be the only one out of my family to graduate. Eventually I took up a job offer at a local diner, performing on Saturday nights; singing, dancing, feeling the rhythm of music flow right through me, and I felt as though I had the world at my fingertips. One night, after one of my shows, I had fallen deeply in love with a handsome boy named Johnny, and we got married. I was only 23, but my husband and I started our new lives together; and had a beautiful baby boy.

All of it – my success, my job, my dedication, my sisters, my husband, and my sweet, sweet baby – all of it was taken from me in a matter of 24 short hours.

The cool, damp air hit my face with a harsh blast as the guards opened the doors to Briarcliff, and I held my breath for a moment before inhaling deeply through my nose. It smelled somewhat of a hospital – that sickly, yet sterile disinfectant smell that makes your stomach turn. It was dark, the walls black, with an enormous spiral staircase ascending about 4 floors. The sounds of the patients scared me; the screams, moans, and cries, it sounded like I had just walked into a haunted house.

The guards turned my body, abruptly, and had me face the desk residing to the left of the entrance doors. The man sitting at the desk looked miserable; he was gray, straight-faced and uninterested; but I guess when you work at a mental ward, you're not really that enthusiastic.

He looked up at me, or more so through me, and clicked his pen. "Name?"

I waited a moment before answering, as I couldn't quite find my voice just yet. But apparently, I didn't have to. "Audrey Davis," the guard on my left stated loudly, and it made me jump. I glanced at the man, and he returned my gesture; yet his glance was sharper, angrier. I brought my focus back to the gray man at the desk, who proceeded to scribble something down on a file, presumably my name. He looked up after a moment or two and made eye contact with me.

"Get her to the showers. Send her up to Sister Jude once you're finished with her."

And without missing a beat, the guards violently pulled me back toward a dark hall. My chains rattled viciously, angrily, as they dragged my feet faster than I could move them; and I held my breath again, closing my eyes, refusing to fight against the strong men. As they threw me into the hydrotherapy room, pushing me up against the metal pipes perpendicular to the barred window, they stripped me of my clothes, released me of my shackles, and hosed me down. I felt vulnerable, embarrassed, as the two men watched me stand there naked. They aimed a device at me, pulling the lever; and water came shooting wildly out of the hose, stinging my skin as it hit me. The force was so painful, almost unbearable on my skin. It felt like it was ripping straight off of my bones. I coughed wildly as they brought the heavy stream of water to my face, feeling it washing into my nose and mouth. I wasn't even sure if that sort of pressure washer was supposed to be used on humans. Maybe cars, or some sort of machinery; or maybe I was just sensitive. But clearly, in this place, being treated like a human wasn't a big part of anyone's day.

Once they tossed some powder onto me and threw me into what seemed like a hospital gown, I was shackled up again, violently taken back out into the lobby, and carried up the spiral staircase. I didn't really understand why the guards were being so rough with me. I never once fought against them. Hell, I never even spoke a word aloud; I was way too terrified. I guess they were just used to being stern and violent. Still, I'm 5 feet tall, they really didn't have to hold me down as if I were a threat.

My heart kept pumping the same ice cold blood through my system, and it chilled me with every step we took. I didn't belong here, and I knew it. Once we reached the top, a young, feeble nun stood in front of one of the many doors, with her hands clasped behind her back. The guards approached her, gripping me tightly, and set me down on my feet forcefully in front of the gentle-looking woman. She smiled, nodded; and without verbal direction, the guards took off my cuffs and shackles. I rubbed my sore wrists, feeling the slight indents in my skin from their tightness. I looked back up at the nun, who waved a hand at the guards, signaling their departure; they nodded, obeying her, and turned around to march simultaneously back down the high flight of stairs. I watched them go for a moment, eyeing them, before I brought my attention to the woman of God standing in front of me. She smiled nervously, seeming a little intimidated, and she carefully layed a hand upon my shoulder.

"Sister Jude will see you now."

She gave me a gentle push in front of her and guided me through the heavy door, pushing it open with her other hand, and I walked in; it looked like an office, with a dark-stained desk and many files behind it. Sitting in the chair was another nun – She was much older, calloused, not a single hint of empathy gracing her slightly wrinkled face. Her dark eyes shot through me, and she smiled; not genuinely, but facetiously.

"Ah. Thank you, Sister Mary Eunice," she said, her low voice echoing through the room. Her eyes darted from my face to the woman next to me. "But how many times do I have to tell you, Sister?"

I looked at the nervous nun, and she widened her eyes. "Oh, oh goodness. I didn't knock," her voice trembled momentarily, and Sister Jude continued to stare at her. She hung her head in shame. "Yes, of course, Sister Jude. I-I'm sorry, I'll-"

"Don't be sorry, just start doing it. Now, go on."

The blonde woman nodded quickly before hastily slipping out of the door, shutting it behind her with a thud. I turned my head, watching her go as well; but before I could actually focus on her, Sister Jude slammed the drawer in her desk, startling me and bringing my attention back without effort. She looked at me for a moment, with that same fake smile, and gestured toward the uncomfortable-looking chairs in front of her. "Have a seat."

I obeyed immediately; straight-faced and nervous, I walked into the room and sat. The blood rushed up to my head, I felt like I could faint. Sister Jude continued to stare me down, her lips curled in a grin, and she stood up from her chair; heels clicking against the hard floor, she rounded the corner of her deck and sat right on the top. "You must be Audrey Davis," she stated, crossing her legs. She looked me up and down, studying me, and I felt self-conscious. She let out a chuckle and shook her head as she brought her stare back up to my wide eyes. "My, my. Who knew a young woman so sweet and delicate could pull off such a horrendous tragedy, huh?"

She never broke her belittling stare, and I never broke mine. My heart dropped into my stomach and I got nauseous. She had no clue. She really didn't. Sister Jude raised her eyebrows at me, licking her lips. "I must say, for someone with your magnitude of iniquity, you sure seem quiet."

I just stared at her, unflinching, unnerving; yet, I was more terrified than I have ever been. Other than last night, of course. The harsh woman continued looking down at me; her eyes were lasers shooting through my skull. She wasn't exactly angered, but she seemed as though she was disgusted, and waiting for me to speak. So, I took a deep breath, and I did.

"I didn't do it."

Sister Jude let out a hearty laugh, waving her hand through the air. "Oh, of course you didn't," she chuckled sarcastically. My icy blood turned hot, and I felt myself boil. My face became red, fuming; and I continued to stare at her. She had not a single clue as to what happened, no matter how much she thought she did. She stopped laughing and sighed before bringing her hand back down into her lap. "Oh, but never mind that. You're here for correction, are you not? We'll make you as right as rain."

I knitted my eyebrows together in curiosity. I wet my dry lips and bit the inside of my cheek for a moment, in thought. "And then I'll be released?"

Sister Jude laughed again. "My child," she sighed, and she paused. Her head shook as she stood from her desk, stepping over to where I sat, and she slowly tapped my chest with a bony index finger. "...Make yourself comfortable."

AUTHOR'S NOTES

Welcome to Briarcliff, everyone :)

This is my first chapter story. Sorry there isn't any Kit action goin on here, but trust me, there will be plenty of that to go around, I can assure you.

I'll try to update a few times a week, as much as I can. I never have anything to do, so I'm sure I won't leave you hanging for too long. Thanks for reading, I would love to see some reviews. Enjoy!