Odette rose from the concrete floor slowly, limbs heavy and numb, her eyes fighting to stay open. ‘Are they aware I’ve risen?’ she thought. She dared not talk for fear of being tackled to the ground. In this sedated state, Odette was able to think more clearly, but the toll on her body was…
Dinah spent most of her days drifting off, imagining. She’d had an episode, and had awoken to find herself standing naked on her bed and screaming. She had climbed down, feeling foolish, and reclothed herself hastily. Perhaps she’d had more episodes; perhaps this whole event was just one long episode. She couldn’t tell; time was running and blurring like watercolor paints.
When she heard the banging on her walls, she was sitting on her cot and humming to herself. Dinah immediately straightened up and looked for the source of the noise. Deciding that it was the left wall, she scurried over and called,
“I’m scared, too. This place is horrid; I’m afraid that I can’t help you. My name is Dinah.” She paused, afraid to be rude; but this was an asylum, and she imagined that regular etiquette didn’t apply. “Are you a proper mad person?”