Asylum.

She closed her eyes. So tired, all she wanted was a nap. Work sure wore out her soul. Absentmindedly, she laid her head down. She slept.


She woke, but her eyes did not open.  Curse exhaustion, it took so much power just to open her lids. She finally lifted them -- slowly. Why can't she open them full? Dazed, her vision is blurred. A gray, blinding blur.  Her vision focuses over some period of time.  She can't move.  Barely taking short breaths that refuse to satisfy the lungs in desperate crave for oxygen. Where is she?  Home.  Yes, she is home...  But, why are her walls burned down?  Coated in ash?  Why is everything burned?  Outside looks no more pleasant.  Her surroundings look dead -- ARE dead. What happened?  She couldn't have been sleeping for more than a few minutes. 'twas not even a slumber, but hardly a drowsy rest of the irises. It did not rejuvenate her. So then, where is she?


She tries to sit up, but she cannot move. Her skin is pale, her body slim. Peculiar. She recalls being a plump individual. What has happened?  Many things were flooding her mind. She tried to cry, but instead her eyes were dry and sore. What is wrong with her brain?  She hears the same questions she asks herself, but not from her voice. No, someone is asking.

"What is wrong with her brain?

What happened?

Where IS she?"


She opens her mouth, but her words refuse to spurt. She pushes out air, but no vocals. She tries to scream; she tries to cry. Why can't she scream? Why can't she cry?


Slowly, yet so surely she begins to sit up. Setting aside her deep confusion, she tries to stand up. She looks at where she laid. She doesn't remember falling asleep on the couch. She shakes her head -- her confusion. She shakily gets on her feet. Shaking, trembling, she takes a few steps. She grows terrified; she tries so hard to cry. To shriek "Help me." she is not successful. She spends many hours approaching her front door, in desperate desire to escape from what was once her home.


She took only a few step outside before she saw a tree. One, solitary tree. It was dead, yet the most lively thing she's seen so far. She wobbles to it, wanting the shade. Feeling more tired than ever, she sits down, and tries to cry. Nothing. She hears footsteps on the other side of the rotted trunk. Her weak willpower allows her to crash into the dirt. She was able to see, lingering above her, Annalise. Annalise is her little sister. Her adorable, precious, innocent baby sister. She tried to speak to those pure eyes, but nothing would come out.

"I love you, Sissie."

She closed her eyes. Mouthed back "I love you, too."

Annalise opened her mouth, and offered the most blood curdling shriek she could have ever even imagined. She tried to cry. Annalise understood her attempt. Annalise stopped. She holds her hand out to Annalise. Her little sister sits down, and holds the hand that was offered to her.

"I love..." Annalise stopped talking. Leaned closer to her. So slowly -- closer. Annalise parted her lips just barely -- so close. She backed off. She shoved Annalise off and scrambled away.

"You like playing..." Annalise whined, and leaned in again -- so close, closer than ever to her laying body. She couldn't get up. She tried to scream. Nothing.

"I love...."

Annalise kissed her. No, not a sisterly kiss. This was one that implied romance; ecstasy. It was wet and meaningful.

"You like playing house..." Annalise shrieked. She shoved Annalise off of her with sudden force, sudden strength. She tried to scream, but could not. Annalise came back, only this time, her siste was armed with a big rock.

"Play with me more...." Annalise demanded. She shook her head at her little sister. Annalise held the rock high.

"You've left me." Annalise whispered. With the same blood curdling scream as before, she threw the rock down at her.


She is dead.