Seven Years Prior
I'm insane.
That's what the nurses call me.
"The girl sees things," They say. They beat me to the floor when I point things out that aren't there.
They want to beat the hallucinations out of me, they say.
They only want to make me normal so I can go live in the real world with my loving family.
My family put me in the asylum so I can become normal. They want me to get better before I can go back home.
So I keep quiet when I see something. I don't point at little girls with purple dresses, playing on swings outside, or puppies running through the white hallways.
I really want to go home.
I want to be somewhere besides here.
"When I am better, I can go?" I ask a nurse. She came in to help me change from the gray nightgown to a white skirt and shirt.
The nurse slaps me. Tears spring to my eyes. She laughs. "You will never get better! You're insane. No one on the outside will ever want a mistake like you."
"I don't want to live here forever!" I cry.
The nurse smiles at me. "You will, don't you see? Crazy children must be punished."
"But... I don't want to be crazy."
The nurse shrugs. Straightens her back. Her cold blue eyes bore into mine. None of the nurses smile. We aren't supposed to smile.
"You're a mistake, probably never supposed to be born. Your family won't want you back, ever." She turns on her heel, leaving me alone in the small, windowless room.
Tears slide down my cheeks.
I want to be normal so, so bad.
———
My number is 405, but my name is Lila. All of us crazies have names, but the nurses don't like us using our real names.
They say that's a privilege. Crazy kids don't get any privileges.
Sara stands next to me. Her number is 387. She is as old as me, I think. We look the same. I am around five. Or six? Four? Seven?
We do not know how old we are here, either. Another privilege not given to us.
Men look at us. They wear suits. Polished. Clean. Strict.
I fidget with the hem of my skirt. We are being chosen. For what? Many things. But most don't return after they are picked.
The crazy children who come back are shaken. They can no longer sleep. They never speak about what they had to do, what they saw.
A man approaches me. He tilts my head to the side. Then the other. He looks at my frail body, my wide brown eyes. I stand still. Stoic.
"How about this one?" He asks the nurse. "What's her problem?"
"405 can see things, Sir. And she's rather unruly. I don't think she'd be the best fit for your disciplined program," The nurse says.
She then points at Sara. "Take 387 instead. She's quiet. She will serve your cause nicely."
Sara's eyes are wide with fear. She reaches for my hand and gently squeezes it. My mind is wild with rage.
YOU ARE READING
Little Lila
General Fictionstandalone ~ mafia siblings series "She's a monster!" "She's a demon!" "She's a... child." Lila grew up in an asylum. She could see things other people didn't see. Lila was told she was crazy. Crazy people must be punished. The asylum was a cover...
