A man with greasy red hair sits in a chair in the middle of the room.
Eric.
Eric was the one who got me sent here, he said I was too crazy to be out in public. So they locked me up in this horrible place. The place where the screams never stop. The place where no one dares to fall asleep in fear of having dreams.
"Hello Beatrice." Eric says and though I've closed my eyes I can tell he's smirking. "I'm truly disappointed that you've been holding up so well." I open my eyes and glare at him.
"The fact that you think I'm anywhere near okay proves that you're not as observant as you think you are." I say and he smiles.
"Four, you can go." Four nods and walks out of the room. Eric walks up to me, still smiling, and slaps me. Pain spreads across my jaw and cheek. I yelp and he grins wider.
You deserved it.
He should have shot you.
Four rushes in the room and I fall to the floor covering my ears.
Four doesn't care about you,
He never will
He wants you to die.
He always has hated you.
I sob and curl up into a ball. "No, it's not true it's not true." I whisper to myself and someone kicks me in my sides.
"Get up Prior." It's Four.
See, he despises you.
I scramble to my feet and see three guards I know their names but not who the names belong to. Uriah, Ezekiel, and Amar.
"So Four, this is the crazy girl you won't stop talking about?" the youngest one says with a friendly smile. I look over at Four confused; he has a slight pink tint to his cheeks. "I have to say, you were right, she is hot."
"W-what?" I look at the youngest again.
"Uriah, I don't think he wanted her to know that he's into her." The oldest one says to the youngest who I'm guessing is Uriah.
"Well the fact that you said it out loud doesn't help Amar." Uriah snaps back. The middle one, Ezekiel I'm guessing, is laughing.
"Isn't it time for me to go back to my cell?" I ask and look at Four. He nods and grabs my hand, sending another shock of energy up my arm. He opens the door and shoves me inside. "Was what they ere saying true?" I ask and he sighs.
"No." he turns around, facing away from the door and picks up his gun. He has to shoot me if I try to leave. Not to disable but to kill. Our lives aren't worth the medical help that would be needed for us to survive getting shot, so they don't waste the bullets.