kill with a swipe of a knife.
Then she’ll be able to save herself.
It’s important to me that she can because I’m starting to realize, there might be times when I can’t.
I’m so tired.
I have to keep my eyes closed because the moment I open them, I see things I do not want to see. I’ve cried. I’ve begged. I’ve screamed.
But the Groundskeeper keeps me here thinking he is doing what is right.
I’m on a cot in a room that only has half a roof. Opening my eyes, I notice the wall is black with mold and there is a stench coming from somewhere that I really can’t think about because I’ll throw up.
The Groundskeeper zip -tied me to an old, rusted iron bed frame, and then disappeared. He said, “He had errands to run.”
Whatever that means.
It’s surprising that someone so sick in the head has to go out and do actual things in life. I bet he is going to go buy groceries or real food would be nice. Something other than green beans because I am starving. If I have to live here with a crazy person, I want some fattening food.
My eyes are raw from crying, and my entire body is sore. I’ve never felt so beaten and defeated. I want to go home. I want this all to be over. My shoulders hurt, my skin is killing me from the zip-ties, and I’m fucking scared out of my mind of this guy. If he can get the best of Tongue and bury him, what am I going to do against him?
The cot moans when I attempt to turn to my side, but I can’t because of the way my arms are lifted over my head. Closing my eyes, I wish for sleep and dreams that lead me anywhere other than here.
I hear a door open somewhere in the distance and the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It’s the Groundskeeper.
“I have a treat for you!” he singsongs from a distance.
I yank and pull against the iron bed frame, then feel it bend. Holy Moly. It worked. Of course it worked because it’s old and rusted. I need to use this to my advantage. I hold my breath and tug again. Every second that passes by, the metal gets weaker and bends.
He enters the room, still wearing that damn mask I hate so much. “I have a challenge for you.”
“I don’t care,” I hiss just as the metal gives.
He lunges to me, pinning me down with his weight, but I don’t go down without a fight. I refuse to give up. The walls start to move again, and the people that live in my alternative versions of reality come forward, watching me struggle against the Groundskeeper. Tongue is in the corner, staying in the dark, watching me.
I get the same feeling I got when he was real. Power surges through me and I lift the bar over my head and slam it against the Groundskeeper’s back. The force has him rolling off the cot and slamming against the floor. My hands and feet are still tied together, but at least I have a chance at getting away from him. I scoot toward the edge of the bed and hop to my feet. The concrete is cold, turning my nerves to stone.
The rusted bedframe is still in my hand and I bring it down on his head again, swinging it like a golf club. The mask flies off his face and rolls across the floor. It stops, creepy baby face up. This is my chance to see the face of the man that kidnapped me, but every second I wait to run is a second wasted.
I hop toward the door and keep hopping my bunny ass out of here. I look left and right to see which way to go. This place really was an old Asylum. There are old wheelchairs in the hall that had been stranded and a few gurney’s, which isn’t what creeps me out. It’s the long hallway that never seems to end, tunneling into oblivion. Then there is the number of doors.
So many rooms.
So many painful memories are trapped within these four walls.
I want out of here.
Now.
I hop along again, passing the table we ate at. The green beans are still on the floor, and rats are nibbling on the leftover food. They are huge with long pink tails, staring at me like they haven’t had human flesh in a while.
That’s