Post by kitty on May 15, 2010 16:47:32 GMT -8
Heres a book I wanted to write, but got bored with and stopped writing, lol.
Chapter one
Crazy? I’ve heard that word so many times. Am I insane? Am I a freak? I suppose I am, that’s why I am here, right? Alone, in this hidden room. They called me crazy for the things I’ve seen, things I’ve heard. I didn’t want to do those things. I didn’t want to hear or see those things. Am I really crazy?
My whole life changed four years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I was ten years old when it started.
I just got home from school and I asked my mom to help me with my homework. She was watching TV when I asked. She said “No, I’m busy” I sighed then I heard my mom’s voice, but her lips weren’t moving, her voice said “Annoying, little brat. Can’t she see I am doing something?” I was confused. I heard her voice, but her lips weren’t moving. I wondered why she would say something like that to me, so I said, “Why did you call me an annoying, little brat?” Her eyes widened in surprise, “I didn’t say that” She said with a shocked tone. Then I heard in my mom’s voice, “how did she know what I was thinking?” Again her lips didn’t move. She looked kind of scared and confused. “What do you mean how did I know what you were thinking?” I asked. I was just as confused as she was, I didn’t know what was going on. “Stop it!” She yelled “Go to your room! No dinner!” She sounded mad, but there was also a tinge of fear in her voice. I ran to my room and sat in my bed, trying to figure out what had just happened.
My dad came into my room a few hours later. He asked me what happened, so I explained to him, that I heard mom’s voice, but she wasn’t moving her lips, then she freaked out and sent me to my room. My dad was just as confused as I was. Then I heard my dad’s voice, but his lips didn’t move “Is she crazy? Is she reading minds?” He looked confused. “Crazy? I’m not crazy and how would I be able to read minds? That’s just weird,” I said. He quickly stood up and backed away. “I-I’m going to go see if you mom needs help with the dishes…” he said, but after that, I heard “What is wrong with her? How is she doing that?” He left my room and shut the door. I fell back on my bed and covered my face with the pillow. What is wrong with me?
It seemed like after that day, my parents talked to me less, about six months passed and I was sitting at the dinner table with my family. No one was talking. Was it because of me? We hardly ever talked at the dinner table now. I heard tons of things from my parents, but I learned to keep my mouth shut. Today, I heard my mom say “I wish I knew what was wrong with her, I think she needs to be put on medication” Her lips weren’t moving, they never did. I stood up and yelled “Medication?! I don’t need medication! There is nothing wrong with me!” I slammed my hands down on the table. “Stop yelling! And I don’t care how you are doing that, but you need to stop now!!” My mom yelled “I’m not doing anything wrong!” I yelled. My dad stood up. “Don’t speak to her like that! You freak! We raise you, feed you, and clothe you and this is how you repay us!?” he yelled. Anger boiled inside me, silverware, bowls, dishes, stuff on the table and other things started shaking. My parents back away. “How dare you say that to me!?” I screamed. Every passing second I got more and more angry. Suddenly, all of the things that were shaking shot into the air and started flying around. My mother rushed to the phone and called 911, she started screaming about how I had gone insane and was going to kill them. I barely knew what was going on, I was too angry to care.
About five minutes later, the door was kicked down and I was knocked to the ground. The police put hand cuffs on me and started to drag me out of the house. All of the things that were flying around fell to the ground. I tried to break free from the police, but they were stronger and pushed me into the police car. I saw my parents smiling as they drove me away. Tears started to fall from my eyes. I barely knew what was going on, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to see my parents for a long time.
The police pulled up to a large white building. They opened the door and pulled me out. They walked to inside the building and through a bunch of doors. Then there was one room with no windows and a huge steel door and a lot of locks. They opened it and pushed me inside. They shut the door and left. A little bit later a guy in a long white coat came in and took off my hand cuffs. I tried to ask him some questions, but he didn’t say a word to me. He put me in a straight jacket and sat me on the bed, then left. I looked around the room and saw everything was bolted to the ground. There was one bed, a toilet and a sink. I lay back on the bed and reviewed what had happened.
They thought I was insane. They locked me in this room. I’m not insane. I know I’m not. Every passing hour, I started to doubt my sanity. I was locked in that room for a year with that straight jacket on. Once a day a person would come in and feed me and give me medicine. Finally, they took off the straight jacket. Now, once a day, a person would take a tray of food and medicine in to my room and sit it on my bed then leave. I never ate the medicine, I crushed it and hid the powder under a lose tile in the corner of the room.
I was so mad my parents left me to rot in a mental hospital. The anger boiled within me a rusty screw on the floor started to shake and rise. At that moment, I knew, I had a special power and I had to learn to use it. So for a year I practiced trying to move that rusty screw. After awhile I was able to control my ability, so I started trying new things.
Now, after four years of entrapment, I have mastered my skill hidden within, my gift, my curse, and my new life. Not a day went by when I wished to be free. I want to be free. I have been thinking of plans of how to get out, and all my plans have a backup plan, and a backup, backup plan. And now, it is time to put my plans into action. Time to be free.
Chapter one
Crazy? I’ve heard that word so many times. Am I insane? Am I a freak? I suppose I am, that’s why I am here, right? Alone, in this hidden room. They called me crazy for the things I’ve seen, things I’ve heard. I didn’t want to do those things. I didn’t want to hear or see those things. Am I really crazy?
My whole life changed four years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday. I was ten years old when it started.
I just got home from school and I asked my mom to help me with my homework. She was watching TV when I asked. She said “No, I’m busy” I sighed then I heard my mom’s voice, but her lips weren’t moving, her voice said “Annoying, little brat. Can’t she see I am doing something?” I was confused. I heard her voice, but her lips weren’t moving. I wondered why she would say something like that to me, so I said, “Why did you call me an annoying, little brat?” Her eyes widened in surprise, “I didn’t say that” She said with a shocked tone. Then I heard in my mom’s voice, “how did she know what I was thinking?” Again her lips didn’t move. She looked kind of scared and confused. “What do you mean how did I know what you were thinking?” I asked. I was just as confused as she was, I didn’t know what was going on. “Stop it!” She yelled “Go to your room! No dinner!” She sounded mad, but there was also a tinge of fear in her voice. I ran to my room and sat in my bed, trying to figure out what had just happened.
My dad came into my room a few hours later. He asked me what happened, so I explained to him, that I heard mom’s voice, but she wasn’t moving her lips, then she freaked out and sent me to my room. My dad was just as confused as I was. Then I heard my dad’s voice, but his lips didn’t move “Is she crazy? Is she reading minds?” He looked confused. “Crazy? I’m not crazy and how would I be able to read minds? That’s just weird,” I said. He quickly stood up and backed away. “I-I’m going to go see if you mom needs help with the dishes…” he said, but after that, I heard “What is wrong with her? How is she doing that?” He left my room and shut the door. I fell back on my bed and covered my face with the pillow. What is wrong with me?
It seemed like after that day, my parents talked to me less, about six months passed and I was sitting at the dinner table with my family. No one was talking. Was it because of me? We hardly ever talked at the dinner table now. I heard tons of things from my parents, but I learned to keep my mouth shut. Today, I heard my mom say “I wish I knew what was wrong with her, I think she needs to be put on medication” Her lips weren’t moving, they never did. I stood up and yelled “Medication?! I don’t need medication! There is nothing wrong with me!” I slammed my hands down on the table. “Stop yelling! And I don’t care how you are doing that, but you need to stop now!!” My mom yelled “I’m not doing anything wrong!” I yelled. My dad stood up. “Don’t speak to her like that! You freak! We raise you, feed you, and clothe you and this is how you repay us!?” he yelled. Anger boiled inside me, silverware, bowls, dishes, stuff on the table and other things started shaking. My parents back away. “How dare you say that to me!?” I screamed. Every passing second I got more and more angry. Suddenly, all of the things that were shaking shot into the air and started flying around. My mother rushed to the phone and called 911, she started screaming about how I had gone insane and was going to kill them. I barely knew what was going on, I was too angry to care.
About five minutes later, the door was kicked down and I was knocked to the ground. The police put hand cuffs on me and started to drag me out of the house. All of the things that were flying around fell to the ground. I tried to break free from the police, but they were stronger and pushed me into the police car. I saw my parents smiling as they drove me away. Tears started to fall from my eyes. I barely knew what was going on, but I had a feeling I wasn’t going to see my parents for a long time.
The police pulled up to a large white building. They opened the door and pulled me out. They walked to inside the building and through a bunch of doors. Then there was one room with no windows and a huge steel door and a lot of locks. They opened it and pushed me inside. They shut the door and left. A little bit later a guy in a long white coat came in and took off my hand cuffs. I tried to ask him some questions, but he didn’t say a word to me. He put me in a straight jacket and sat me on the bed, then left. I looked around the room and saw everything was bolted to the ground. There was one bed, a toilet and a sink. I lay back on the bed and reviewed what had happened.
They thought I was insane. They locked me in this room. I’m not insane. I know I’m not. Every passing hour, I started to doubt my sanity. I was locked in that room for a year with that straight jacket on. Once a day a person would come in and feed me and give me medicine. Finally, they took off the straight jacket. Now, once a day, a person would take a tray of food and medicine in to my room and sit it on my bed then leave. I never ate the medicine, I crushed it and hid the powder under a lose tile in the corner of the room.
I was so mad my parents left me to rot in a mental hospital. The anger boiled within me a rusty screw on the floor started to shake and rise. At that moment, I knew, I had a special power and I had to learn to use it. So for a year I practiced trying to move that rusty screw. After awhile I was able to control my ability, so I started trying new things.
Now, after four years of entrapment, I have mastered my skill hidden within, my gift, my curse, and my new life. Not a day went by when I wished to be free. I want to be free. I have been thinking of plans of how to get out, and all my plans have a backup plan, and a backup, backup plan. And now, it is time to put my plans into action. Time to be free.