Mental Hospital
I got up slowly, waiting for the call. Finally I heard the head doctor casually strolling into my ward. How I wanted to get up and attack him. But that would ruin everything. They were just beginning to let me eat my own food and go to the bathroom by myself, anything that I did now could destroy my chances of release. Of course, I could just totally bluff my way out, but I had to make it seem realistic. This was vital for my future.
Head Doctor- Good morning, Arthur. How are you feeling today?
Me- Same as always, doc. What are we doing today?
Head Doctor- Well, I though we could do some picture recognition. I will shows you some images and you have to tell me what you see.
Me- Alright.
He held up the first image. It was a white canvas, ruined by a mess of black paint. Despite my cruel exterior, I had a soft spot for art. But this, this was horrible.
Head Doctor- So what do you see?
Me- I see that you need some art classes.
The tall man sighed, before replying.
Head Doctor- They are meant to be vague. It shows your feelings.
Me- Fine. It is a dog.
Head Doctor- What about this one?
Me- A pencil.
Head Doctor- Finally, this one?
I flinched at the sight of this horrible image. Visions were brought back to me of the incident. The sight of blood spewing out of those poor helpless bodies. Me cowering, scared to do anything. The police officer who told me that they found their bodies. That man gave me nightmares for so long. His head would spin and turn into the devils face, and he would grab me and take me to hell, and lower it's blood red fangs into my cold body and-
Head Doctor- Arthur! Arthur! are you ok.
I looked around examining my surroundings. I was on the hospital floor, rolled up in a ball. I presume I was having some sort of a stress attack.
Me- Fine, doc. Can I get some sleep though?
Head Doctor- Sure call me if you need me, alright?
Me- Sure thing. Bye.