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A mans logging of his time confined within the walls of a long forgotten Insane Asylum. |
I awoke with a start, my attention instantly brought to a figure just outside of the waiting room proceeding into the hallway. Why was I in the waiting room? When did I even fall asleep? I wasn't questioning my situation for too long wanting to keep my focus on whatever was moving around only a few feet from myself. I could only see the back of what seemed to be a large slouching man shuffling slowly ahead. He had on dirty yellow pants and the remnants of a white t-shirt hung from his torso. He had a haircut that looked as though it was done by an amateur in the dark. One thing that really stood out was the chained collar clasped around his neck. Chains came off of the collar and hung down his back a bit but traveled back upward and wrapped around his arms down to the wrists, where they hung off of him again a drug along the floor. A sort of muffled groan came from the guy with every step. I was definitely afraid of the gruff looking stranger, but not sure if I should be. That ebbing fear was rekindled when the chains on his neck rattled as he looked in my direction. He stood just in the shadow of the hallway so I couldn't make out any facial features or anything, but he was without a doubt looking at me. He didn't stare for long, hell it wasn't really a stare. His face traveled from mine to the row of chairs I was stretched across to the entirety of the waiting room. He started walking again and took his attention off of me. I got a strange impression from the event. It seemed like he didn't want anyone else to be there, but I was an exception. Like I was supposed to be in that room........like I belonged..... |