mental torture

i wrote this as a school assignment based off of the yellow wall paper. hope you like it. <3

It’s not every day that you wake up in an unknown room in an unknown place. A house covered with white walls, white chairs, tables, and beds. But this is where I woke up this morning. I feel a short sharp pain in the back of my skull. I try to hold my head but I cannot move. What’s wrong? My vision is blurred. I breathe deeply. Someone holds my hand. I can feel it. I try to move again but the pain levels only increases rapidly, tears streaming out of my glassy eyes. My heart starts to beat. Faster and faster, I can’t stand it. It’s the only thing I can hear along with the sound of my breathing continuously increasing in volume and speed. Olaf’s voice calms me. He tells me everything will be fine. He tells me I am here to rest, to recover from recent events that happened in the city. Olaf tells me I am not capable to stay there anymore. He tells me I am not far from the west coast of Norway, a small island called Vigra. He’s the only thing I can relate to on this godforsaken island but he tells me he needs to go back to work. I don’t understand why I can’t go with him. It pains me to think he’s leaving me behind. Olaf kisses my forehead and whispers goodbye. He leaves me. I don’t want him to go. I call for him desperately as he walks down the long white hall, but no sound can be heard. He’s gone. Tears roll down the side of my face. I scream for him but nothing comes out. What happened? The bells next to my room strike 13:00. The sound startles me.

 

A small woman, with blue eyes, dressed in a small dress walks into my room. I cry. She wipes my face and reassures me. My eyes swell up with tears again. I close my eyes to remind myself of recent events. I can’t remember. I was on the balcony on the 22^nd of July 2011. I had just finished work and it was around three thirty. And then nothing, I can’t seem to recall anything. Confused, I drift off into a deep sleep.

 

Days go by. I have started to eat and talk. I can hear my thoughts now. I get very tired easily. I can’t leave my room. I am not allowed to. The white in the room is starting to bore me. There is nothing for me to do here, nothing for me to look at or think about. Since Olaf left me, it has become more and more dismal and desolate here. Olaf is a hard working man. He doesn’t believe I am ill. I want my old life back. He writes to me, and asks me how I’m getting on. I am not allowed to reply, I can’t do anything. The nurse won’t even let me read his letters myself. Olaf expects me to be better and to be a tough woman, but he doesn’t understand how tiring this is for me. Although I can’t do anything, I feel so exhausted.

 

 This was supposed to be a temporary vacation from all the action and stress the city life had. The bells at night are starting to irritate me. They remind me of the life I used to have and that has now has been shattered into a million pieces. There is nothing left of me. Nobody talks to me anymore, nobody writes. The bells ring again. They speak to me but I can’t understand them. They murmur. I can’t help but try to decipher their language. I become sleep deprived. I must find out what they want from me. The blast is repeated at every knock of the clapper against the bronze body. The sound of the bell cuts through the silence, the peace. It shatters my sanity, slowly.  Is he attempting to communicate with me? I can’t understand him. He speaks to me, I am sure.

I can see the sound of the bell. It drifts by me. It surrounds me. It dances for me. It whispers in my ear. It’s driving me nuts. But there is something about it that intrigues me.  What could it want? I sit and watch in awe.

I stay up all night. I listen to every chime of the bell clanging and its echo bouncing of the white walls. He comes to me. He looses his voice as he drifts towards towards me. I wait. I wait for the next time he calls. He calls for me, my help. He needs me.

The nurse comes to check on me. I tell her the bell is troubling me. She closes the window. I want to hear him though. She doesn’t understand. She is a good nurse. She tries to help me, but there is no outcome to her efforts. She has noticed I have started to sleep less and gives me a sleeping pill. She lays the small box on the table. She is ever so sweet to me. She is so gentile. She doesn’t even know me well. She tries so hard. She waves good night and closes the door behind her.

 

I lie awake. Waiting.  Waiting for him. I try harder every hour to understand him. I call into the midnight darkness. Waiting for a response. Nothing. I wait impatiently for him to speak again.

The echo doesn’t speak. He sways, and dances, but I understand him better now. All the same, I am the only one that can communicate with his ethereal being. He wants something only I can give him. He tells me he needs a voice. I am his only hope. A voice the world outside of these white hospital walls can understand. He knows I am stuck here forever and that there is no point to my life anymore. The explosion destroyed me. It disrupted my life. My joy of life has disappeared along with the smoke from the disaster. I have become insane. The bell knows it.  He tells me, my only role in this word is to give him my voice. I start to feel drowsy.

The bell rings. It rings and rings. It is midnight. His loudest cries reach my ears. He doesn’t stop. I scream. I push my voice to its full extent. The last I ever heard my voice was on that dark night. I swallow the rest of the pills in the box and collapse on the floor. Energy less, I cry, hopelessly.

Author's Note

ignore spelling and grammar, sorry its a bit rushed, it had to be less than 1000w for school.