I continued to cry when she entered my room. It was a horrible feeling, knowing that she had to take me to an asylum. She must have thought I was crazy, mental, and a monster. Well, it’s not like I wasn’t, but having other people think that hurt me. I was such a hypocrite. There was no point in hiding my true identity anymore; they had already found it.
She told me that we could go whenever I was ready. My tears seemed to run out, so I just stood there with a blank expression on my face. Resisting would turn out worse than going, I thought to myself. It was time. This may be the last time I see anyone, talk, or even move. It was so nerve-racking.
We walked outside, and I got to feel the fresh air for the first time in days. It was eerily chilling on my neck, not only because there was a strong breeze. The police car was parked just feet away from the exit; I assumed it was so close in case I tried to run. People were looking at me as I was escorted to the car, just wondering what horrible thing I could’ve done to get there. I wondered, too.
The seat was very uncomfortable; I slid each time the car moved. The officer seemed really nice, considering the situation she was in. She was trying to talk to me a little bit, and was being friendly. I appreciated the fact that she was attempting to make me feel better, although it wasn’t working to great. Maybe she knew why I was going to the asylum, and didn’t think I was a murderer. One could only hope.
The tinted windows made it hard to see out of, especially in the dark. I just wanted a view of where I was going. Someone had told me that I was going to Winston-Salem, which was an hour away approximately. The exit signs got higher and higher as we approached the city where I would be trapped inside. I was almost there.
My anxiety was through the roof when we turned off of the highway. My destination was coming up close. This would be the last place I would ever visit. I would be kept in the crazy-house forever. There was no leaving this nightmare. I wouldn’t be able to wake up.
I was stuck in there. No way out. No escape.
The car rolled up towards the Emergency Room entrance, and she parked into the designated spot. I was escorted in, then told to sit in one of the chairs to wait for dispatch to come and get me. My eyes wandered throughout the room, taking in everything I saw. Families were sitting together, holding each other’s hands, with tears filling they’re solemn eyes. Guilt struck in, yet again, but in a different way, this time.
I could have had my freedom and health if it weren’t for my own stupidity, and I was making people suffer for my own faults. These people were suffering for things that were simply out of their control. So much pain was caused because of me. Not necessarily emotional pain, but stress with having to deal with me and my countless flaws.
My parents arrived while I was deep in thought, and they came up next to me. Things took off from there. Someone came down from the asylum, and was ready to take me up. It was time for me to go. I looked out the window at the world I would probably never see again, as I was walked to a hallway and went down a maze of corridors. We stepped into the elevator, and the doors closed with a loud creaking noise. It was over.