Ten Days In A Madhouse Book นิยาย & เรื่องราว

It had been the same weight, growing heavier each morning since the third day, a leaden anchor instead of the lightness I'd expected from approaching a destination. Ten days confined to this room. Ten days staring out the same narrow window, sleeping on the same stark white linens, and rereading the same three books on the shelf until their words blurred. Ten days of waking before the light even began to creep in, lying in the pre-dawn dark and meticulously cataloging everything I knew, and more importantly, everything I didn't. The sequences played out in my head, a mental rehearsal before I ever stepped foot in the courtyard. Ten days, and I was a different person than the one who had firs

he said, taking something out of his pocket. … Escuridade stares at the vial of black powder in his hand, then at the small, jagged cut on his finger. The silence that followed was heavy, pressing against her chest like physical weight. “Ten years,” Escuridade whispered. “She has been in this state for ten years.” The realization hit Escuridade with the force of a physical blow. While Mestre Escuro had been building an army, while they had been fighting for freedom– Emile has been right here, beneath their feet, rotting in a cage. She looked at the girl again. The muttering, the scratching, the way her body seemed to resist the very air around her. It was not just madness. It was a slow, ago

“Ding-dong! It’s medication time. All patients, please gather at the church on the first floor within ten minutes. Nurses will distribute the medication. Please be reminded that the blue pills are safe to take. The red pills are highly toxic. Those who take it by mistake will suffer intestinal rupture and die horribly, bleeding from inside!” The intercom broadcast came on again, and everyone in the ward reacted as though they had received a signal, rushing out of their rooms. I was pushed along by the crowd and could only follow them down to the church on the first floor. I cautiously observed everyone around me. Some were violently aggressive, attacking anyone in sight. Their limbs were sha

Just kidding. I got out of the room. The Shanewood mansion was massive, and I didn’t know where Mad’s room was. Thankfully, I bumped into the helper. “Can I help you, Ms. Tara?” “Oh, yeah. Where’s Mad’s room?” She smiled. “It’s the door at the end of the hallway.” “Thanks.” I tiptoed towards his door. I was about to knock, but he must be talking to his mother. “What about your feelings? You’re gonna be tied up for two to three years in a loveless marriage. That’s a long time, honey. You know how it can affect your mental health. That’s not healthy.”

He was, in the full weight of the October morning and the chain complete and the chain continuing and the family in the building and the first meal ahead and all the sections not yet drawn and the honest building outlasting and the practice in its beginning and the tenth year coming and Ellie's commission not yet arrived and the September child not yet received and all the rooms in their December waiting for the people who would find them, glad. He was glad. End of Chapter Two Hundred and Twenty-Two

“You can’t do this to me. This is a crime.” “I have committed many crimes and gotten away with them. Bring it on.” “Ahhhh,” I screamed. Richard and his bodyguard laughed. “I forgot to tell you. Every room in this house is sound proofed. Welcome home, my love. You know if we have a child, she’ll enjoy staying in this house. I will take very good care of you and her.” “You’re a mad man.” “All thanks to you. You’ve driven me mad.” He said, advancing towards me. I stood rooted to the ground, feeling hopeless. What I had I gotten myself into?

They'd rather I tell them I'm planning to rob a bank. I give Frank a thin smile and say nothing. Let him think what he wants. It's easier that way. The airport comes into view, all glass and steel reaching toward the sky. My stomach clenches. This is really happening. I'm really going back. Frank helps me with my bags at the curb, and I try to prepare myself for twelve hours on a plane. Twelve hours to think about everything I'm trying to avoid. "Ms. Dabe Peters?" I turn to see a woman in an airline uniform approaching me. She looks professional, polished, everything I'm not right now.

“I don’t know what I did to offend Maia. She had always made me sleep in the basement. It was cold and moist there. There wasn’t even an air conditioner installed in there. That was how I got my rheumatism.” “Also, Maia would feed me with a dog’s bowl and make me fight the dog for the food. I-I was treated worse than a dog! Who would’ve thought that something like this could’ve happened in this day and age?” “I was sent to the mental hospital and locked in that depressing place. I was beaten up on a daily basis. It wasn’t easy for me to make an escape. You have to speak up for me, everyone! I’m not sick. My mind is fine!”

She maintained a moderate volume, but I could sense the shock in every single word she spoke. Yes, that’s Mad, my beautiful stepsister with OCD, ADHD, and everything in between that you can imagine. She has been curled up on my thighs and holding me firmly ever since we got here. Mad has been obsessive with hygiene since I knew her and has made it very clear how much dirt makes her feel sick. So, this place is the exact opposite of her. I feel so stupid for dragging her into my shit. For hours, Mad has sustained a quiet tone in the cell and avoided by any chance looking toward the two men snoring in the space.

Like, yes I’m mad about what they just did but I can’t just leave the house? Where am I gonna go? I don’t have a place to stay. Or maybe I'm just thinking too much? She won't drive me away from the house, right? She opened my door harshly and looked at me with madness in her eyes. “M-mom,” I said in a small voice. She is still staring at me sharply. Like a lion looking at its prey. Mom is really scary when mad. “M-mom, you can’t expect me to just accept your decisions especially that my future is at stake.” I reasoned out. I didn’t mean to shout at them. To argue with them, I was just blinded by my feelings that is full of hatred.