Screams of the Mad

Screams of the Mad

The screams of the mad echoed down the hall. I share a room in the mental ward with three others.

One shouted all the time, one never spoke, the last just smiled a lot, a smile that said he knew what was here in this world and didn’t mind. I took the knife to the smiling one first. All three were in bed, it was two o’clock and that meant nap time in the mad house.

His eyes were closed. The ghost of his smile still on his sleeping lips. My hand went over his smile. His eyes opened as I drove the knife into his neck. I pushed his lips back into their full usual smile when I was done. Next the knife sent the silent one into oblivion, he went silently. Last the shouter and I did nothing to muffle his final shout, it was his usual and no-one would know it was his last.

I picked up my bag, my family was waiting.

Once outside I saw her, running past her mother, screaming “daddy!” with glee. She ran into my arms.

“Daddy’s coming home baby girl.” I whispered in her ear. The knife would get them there.

WC 200