Silence. From wall to wall, silence was all that bounced off. Nothing but artificial light. The sound of creaking metal, as the cell door opens.
“Wake up! It’s time for meds, you know the drill.” the guard said.
Hands were crossed behind his back then cuffs were wrapped around his wrists. His body moved as if there was nothing left of him. He was surrounded by those dellutional and completely mad.
Yet he hasn’t lost his head.
Three years ago, he was situated in this place of insanity. Darius Cohan had lived a normal life. Yet one pitiful day images of him would randomly appear in his mind, images that he also never understood. He would tell those around him, part of him was living in the past. Then the images began to make him feel as if they were real. Images would later turn into voices, and he would respond. Talk then went around saying he was losing his head. But these images and voices were symbolic of something more. And he wasn’t crazy. You would think throughout those three years he would have actually lost his mind, what kept from going that route was he knew he was not insane. The images to him felt as if it was put in his mind as a reminder of something. He always questioned why they were put into his head.
BANG! The slamming of the cell door brought Cohan back to reality from his thought. Cuffs were taken off and he was contained in a room with other patients. Unlike the other patients he was not heavily watched because he never acted out. As minutes went by of waiting the lights had turned off and a red glow covered the room from top to bottom.
“Code Black. Code Black. All systems have shut down.” A voice announced.
As authority around them were unnerved by what had occurred, Cohan was able to slip away. His mind was still smart, as he slipped away he walked away without any suspicion. He was able to enter a locker room for workers where he changed out of his patient uniform. Yet he had no knowledge of the structure of the building. He was stranded.
Then another announcement was made, “Code Red. Code Red. A patient has escaped. I repeat, Code Red.”
The loud blaring of a siren had filled the halls, in addition to the screams of patients that could be heard from above. As feeling of panic filled his body, he began to run. He saw a sign that led to the stairs. Each step getting smaller, and the stairs getting lower, he had reached the ground level. He paused and hid as another announcement came on.
“The escaped patient has been identified as-” the voice had muffled and became static.
He propped back up and tried to look for a way to escape the building. Then he heard the beeping of truck. It was the laundry company truck that came for weekly pick ups of dirty clothes. As they were placing the truck to a right position he decided to hide in the laundry basket. He managed to slip in and felt movement as they moved the basket to the truck. He shed a few tears to the disbelief that he had gotten his freedom. The truck began to move, but it came to an abrupt stop.
“Good afternoon gentleman. We just need to check the truck before you leave, safety protocol.” said the security guard.
“Of course, let me open up the back for ya.” replied the truck driver.
He heard the slam of the door shut, and the back open. He heard footsteps getting closer. Before the guard could reach the basket he was in, a voice from his walkie talkie went off.
“Please report back to positions, the escaped patient has been found.”
“Copy.” replied the security guard.
The back of the truck was slammed shut and the truck began to move again.
Wait I wasn’t the only one? Did they even notice me missing? Thought the Cohan. Yet he sighed in relief. What felt like hours was just a couple minutes, he felt the truck stop and the heard the door open. Panic went through his body again, he laid still and covered his mouth. He felt the basket move.
No words were exchanged. Do they not feel a difference in the basket? Why does matter I’m not trying to get caught anyways? He thought.
The basket then laid still. He poked his head out slowly. Then fear was all you could see in his eyes. Cohan saw a man sleeping in a chair right in front of the basket. He quietly stood up and slowly placed his leg out.
As soon as Cohan’s two feet were on the concrete floor he started to run. He never looked back, he just kept running.
In the distance he heard the man say, “Why is the laundry all messed up?”
He continued running even though he didn’t know where he was going. When he felt safe he stopped. He looked around to see where he was, he stood there. He took a deep breath in, for a moment he felt like he completely free. Things began to get dimmer, he was carried away from the freedom he was feeling, and he didn’t notice the car rushing towards him.
Cohan braced himself for impact, but he felt nothing. He opened his eyes and saw the car was passed him. Then an image came to mind, it was him dead laying in the cell he once occupied.
Cohan thought when he was put into the asylum he would die of insanity. And it was true, he was already dead. The images he saw was the life he already lived. His soul was just trapped in the asylum. When he realized his demise, Cohan felt himself die again.