It all started when I woke up to find that I was hugging myself in a nice, soft room.
....I'm lying through my teeth. I was in a stained straightjacket in a smelly padded room. But it was soft.
Apparently I was put in there for hitting my psychiatrist. That wasn't really fair. She hit me first, but naturally she denied that such a thing occurred.
I felt a pain on my cheek. I rub it against the wall to make sure it isn't bleeding.
Must be a bruise.
After sitting there for a while, I think. And think. And think.
All I can think about is how I hate this place.
I hate how my family had me put here after I pushed my sister off the stairs. I was not trying to hurt her. I didn't know the gorilla trying to eat her wasn't real. I was trying to protect her. It looked real, it sounded real, I even felt it's fur on my hand when I tried to get away myself. And she only got a small bruise.
Or was it a sister? Maybe it was a brother? Or a dog? Or a cat? I can't really remember that well.
The first psychiatrist, a man in a wheelchair, they took me to suggested medication, therapy, and all the other places normal parents turn to in order to help their beloved children.
Instead, they brought me here.
I abhorred it.
I don't even remember my real name. Sometimes I ask the Psychiatrist, but I always forget later.
I loathe, no ABHOR her. And she abhors me. Two perfectly disgusted people forced to see each other on a regular basis.
She hits. She degrades. She uses us unethically as guinea pigs. An autistic child became an emotionless zombie after she tested some depressants on her to see if it would calm her symptoms. Another autistic child attempted suicide when given the same drugs.
That was before she started working here. She was driven out of normal hospitals by angry parents.
They eventually let me out, and take off the jacket (even though it's cold). I look down at my hand, which only had a thumb when I was born.
I don't really remember how it happened. I think it started when they attempted a lobotomy (AKA The worst and cruelest idea imaginable because it just turns the patient into a near-vegetable)
They stopped because I almost died. When I almost died, I saw a naked guy with long long long fingers sitting on the floor. Like rakes.
The next day, I started having Hallucinations about having claws for fingers. Then one day, I scratched the nasty psychiatrist with them. And she died. Dead dead dead dead dead.
They weren't hallucinations anymore.
After a while, it became clear I had no longer suffered from an actual mental illness. All my hallucinations were becoming real
Years later, I look at that same hand, which now has claws.
The nasty psychiatrist is dead.
Dead dead dead dead...DEAD
The long fingered guy needed to be something else. I needed a way out.
So he stopped being him, I stopped being me and now we're ME.
Do you see?
I am Abhorrence, the fear of madness.
But I'm not what you think I am.
I'm not a killer who does whatever the voices tell me to.
I am not a monster.
I'm a poor boy who was abandoned by his parents, who didn't want to deal with a mentally ill child.
I'm a poor boy who had to deal with a psychiatrist who did not see her patients as human.
I am what my parents did not want to deal with. I am what disgusted my prejudiced nasty psychiatrist.
And then I gained power by bonding with their worst fears, and becoming them.
I was not truly dangerous until I was put into that nasty nasty nasty nasty place.
I stand in front of that nasty place, now abandoned.
I let go of my normal amount of craziness, my upbeat personality, to do what I do every year: Confront my past.
I walk to my cell, rusted and empty. I go to the padded room, now chewed up by mice and rats. I leave a few crumbs by some mice nests.
I go to the lobotomy room. I trashed it the first time I came here after it was abandoned. I cleared out all of this depressing stuff last year, thinking it could probably make a good game room. I play some pool and hook up the Rally-X machine and play that for a bit, then continue on.
I think turning that room into a game room really helped me. I took something terrible, and replaced it with something good.
I go down to the kitchen. Some of the food here is still good. I open a can of baked beans and eat them raw.
Eventually I leave and get back to work. I voted for Transgression to be released, but only so I could hunt her down. It sounded like fun at the time, and from what I hear, I won't be alone during this.
I wonder what the others will be like. The others who want to stop her.
I never really do much with the other fears.