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The ninth circle of hell

Sitting in the back seat of Dave’s car, it was silent, but I didn’t mind. I didn’t feel like a lecture on how I should feel, and I definitely wasn’t in the mood.

I looked up from my twiddling thumbs to catch him glaring at me through the rear view mirror. And obviously he noticed I caught him, because he started talking to me.

“You have nothing to be afraid of, you’ll be fine as long as you stick with me.”

There was something off about the way he said it though. The tone, there was something off, like it was supposed to mean something.

I looked away deep in thought, and when I turned my gaze back to the mirror up front, I found him still staring. When I caught him again, he didn’t look away, or start talking, this time he just starred. His expression looked like a creepy stalker. My heart pumped faster as I secretly watched him stare at me through the mirror.

We turned the corner, and I saw the sign for Elk Ridge asylum.

I gave a sigh of relief as the sign got closer and closer, but we didn’t slow down. We just got closer, until we passed it.

I gulped and my heart skipped a beat,

“you passed the asylum,” I stuttered.

He didn’t say a word. I looked back at Elk Ridge then at Dave, he turned onto a dirt road, and I shuddered.

“Who are you, what is this some sort of a joke?” I hesitated the words, trying not to make him mad.

Next thing I knew I heard the click of the doors lock.

“Your scaring me!” I talked more normally now, but still had a stutter.

He stopped in a dark alley, on the side of a dirt road, and all that ran through my mind was every horror film I had ever watched.

He got out, and made his way to my side. At that moment I unbuckled my seatbelt, and moved to the seat beside me. I grabbed the handle and yanked it as hard as I could, but it wouldn’t budge.


I searched for something hard to smash a window, I found nothing.

Dave got back in the car, and I screamed, but he shut the door with tinted windows, and grabbed me so I couldn’t move.

He pulled a chloroform, soaked cloth out of his pocket, and covered my mouth with it. I tried to fight, but the chemical was to strong. I fainted into his awaiting arms, completely blacked out.

I fell down, and down into an endless pit. Darkness rained over me, not a light to be found yet shadows danced across the wall.

I couldn’t move my body, stuck in a lying position. There was some sort of invisible force pushing me down. The heat coming from below was unbearable, blistering the skin on my back. It was hard to breath, or even blink, and when I did the pain made me cringe, as it travelled from my head, all the way down to my toes. It felt like the ninth circle of hell, and I was wishing with all my might to just die. At least it would be better than this.

The pain didn’t stop, it just seared away. It was a million times worse than being hit by a train, than run over by it in slow motion. I couldn’t think of anything, except the torture, I didn’t remember getting here,

“it must be a nightmare” I thought,

but the pain, it was so real. It couldn’t be, maybe I was blacked out or... then it came to me, I remembered everything. I remembered Dave, and Harold, and Kevin and

“oh my gosh I’ve been kidnapped!”

But why? Who was he? Obviously he wasn’t a physiatrist, maybe a patient, but did he know me? For a moment, I forgot the pain, and just focussed on the fear. What was he going to do to me? Where was he taking me? Why risk it all, being seen by the cops, at the station? A shimmer of hope scared away the shadows when I remembered, Harold,

“he is going to try and get a hold of me, to tell me about Lily,“

I smiled, even though it made my head want to explode. I might just survive this. The dizziness made me want to vomit, but I couldn’t, I knew it was just a side effect from the chloroform, but the feeling ached inside me. Making me feel as depressed as I did at the station.

My mind trailed off, all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball, and hold my stomach, but I couldn’t move. It was like I was paralyzed, or something. All of a sudden I felt a jolt of sickness, and the forced mess that came with the awful feeling.

All I could think of was these two desperate words, that altogether spewed out of my mouth,

“hurry Harold.“

The sickness, combined with everything else that was aching, plus the emotions that were overloading inside me, it was all just to overwhelming. So I tossed, and turned to get comfortable, which just made no sense, because I felt like I had been falling into an obis, for at least a little over three hours now. So eventually, I just gave up, closed my eyes, and held my breath.

Just as I felt like letting the breath go, I felt a huge thud, and let it go anyway. The wind got knocked right out of me, as soon as I landed, the rood awakening carried me out of my deep sleep, with a loud cough, and into a quiet pink room.

It had a bed, with a fluffy heart themed bedspread, and a kiddy star lamp with a rotator. The room was plastered in posters of rock stars, and puppies. But in the few places on the exotic wall that were bare, a hot pink wallpaper shone through. There were no windows, and the one door that was in the room was made entirely up of titanium, steel, and of course, was locked. It read the words,

“Milly’s room”

in giant, bright, purple, sparkly letters. There was a dresser, with photos of Dave, holding a newborn child, the little hat on the newborn’s head read Amelia and I panicked.

It was me, Dave was holding me as a baby, there was another picture of me as a newborn in his arms, and next to us was a little boy. It was Charlie,

my breathing stopped instantly when I laid my eyes my mother scratched out in the picture, with a red marker. Then my breath started to speed up, hyperventilating I stared into the photos, trying to resist the urge to think, to make theories.

“I see you’ve made acquaintance with my most prized possessions, a little piece of you, and your brother.”

I jumped so far I landed on the bed, I turned my head towards the open door, where Dave was standing. His face looked as if he was my loving father, who I’ve known all my life, and could trust with mine.

“Is that how you see yourself,” I blurted out, and realized he could hear me.

As soon as I said it I regretted it. He bobbed his head, seeming to be confused,

“what do you mean”

I opened my mouth “no you don’t get to play victim, you kidnapped me, who are you?”Dave shook his head “I think you know.”

I brought my knees up to my chest, and wrapped my arms around them. I mumbled in a low tone, “just tell me okay.”

I looked up at him, and gritted my teeth, my face red, with tears blurring my sight.

“Tell me who you are, and what sort of twisted up, freak show game this is or”

he cut me off “or what?”

I stared at him with fiery eyes

“look” he said still staring at me

“you’re afraid, I get that, you have good instincts, just like your mother.”

At that comment my eyes widened, I didn’t want to say it aloud but I did anyway. “You, you you’re the one wh….who killed her, you killed my mother?” It came out almost like a question, but I meant it as a statement.

He looked down at his hands holding them together, white knuckled he showed no emotions. No sadness, no guilt, then looked up at me.

“I had no choice,” he mumbled

“she would have killed me”

I scooted backwards, leaned over the bed, and out of nowhere was sick to my stomach. Was it nerves, or just shock, or maybe the chloroform? I saw Dave out of the corner of my eye, I saw his cold look, he actually had the nerve to smile.

My veins nearly popped out of my head as I stood up, and started toward him.

“Look, I’m no wimp, and I’m definitely not afraid of you, and as soon as I get out of this crap hole I’m calling the cops.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt you in fact I brought you here so they wouldn’t hurt you at the station. So they wouldn’t put you in jail, or the nut house.“

I was so irritated,

“and what makes you think this is any better? And by the way my mother is not a killer.”

“Oh yeah?” He interrupted

“than why did she hold a pocket knife to my throat last night? The night she died.”

I choked, “was the knife engraved?” I asked hesitantly.

He turned and took a step toward the door, I was about to say something, but he beat me to the chase,

“I’ll tell you the whole story later, first you should really see my house, after all you are my daughter. We should get to know each other better,” then he turned and motioned me to come to the door.

Every word he said after “you are my daughter” was hazy, I guess I kind of knew it deep down, when I saw the pictures, but to hear it out loud. My father, killed my mother.

I just stood there for a few minutes, taking it all in. Then I realized, “I’m never gonna get out of here, if I never look for an escape,” so I followed him out the door.

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