Blank, dead eyes stared at the blank death like white walls, the pills had done their job. Lucille Chaleau was now like every other person in the glorified purgatory, Marie de Médicis Asylum. Her mind wobbled unsteady in her convulsing body, her vision became blurred, everything went black. It was simply another 6:30 p.m.
With the sun’s rise screams pierced the air, jolting Lucille from her medicated coma like slumber. She looked about the whitewashed prison and grimaced. the only colour that mimicked any of her existence was the faded black Sharpie stain, bold and verboden on the south wall, as she faced west. Another scream pierced the air, and Lucille clutched her ears. She could clearly hear the shrieking patient down the hall; three doors …show more content…
“What are you?” Lucille’s broken voice returned, just as emotionless as the nurse’s from earlier.
“Crazy, just like you. Why else would I be in here with all these other freaks?”
“Are you a girl, boy, neither, both, other, what?” She nudged the crossed legs again.
“A boy. Now leave.” The voice ordered again.
“Wash your hair before you boss others around. You look like a scraggly orphan with a complex.” With that Lucille walked back to her chair to stare at the dead tree again.
Noon the next day, the boy was back, and sat in the same chair, with the same crossed legs. Lucille almost walked past him, until she saw his hair. Washed, conditioned, and trimmed. The bruises were still as apparent as yesterday, only now the matching set of bruises on his collarbone and neck were visible.
“What are you looking at?” He ordered.
“Are you gay?” Lucille asked taking a strand of the boy’s hair into her grasp.
“No, are you?”
“Probably. What’s your name?” Lucille asked taking more hair into her hands and began combing through the strands. The boy pulled away and …show more content…
À suivre, pompous boy.” Lucille walked towards Nurse 34 and then past her back to the white room with nothing but faded black to keep her company.
As the sun set, Lucille ran her slender fingers up and down the hair on her leg and mulled over the newest member of the west wing; his differences to the other patients who were just lambs now. She laid down on her back and closed her eyes knowing a nurse or doctor would be in to check on her and put her in a medical coma if she weren’t already sleeping. She sighed and began to plot the escape from the white prison she’d been held in for the past year and a half Serafin Beaulieu, the pompous faced boy was going to help her whether he liked it or not.
For the next three days Lucille left Serafin alone, and refused to even breathe in his direction. On the fourth day, she sat in his chair waiting for him. She refused to get up when he ordered her to, and invited him to sit on the ottoman that rested before her.
“I have a proposition for you.” Lucille finally said after Serafin continued to stand.
“No.” He spoke, his voice at a place that seemed to be it’s normal resting place. 1234567 Réarrangez la phrase ajoutez probablement plus de
With the sun’s rise screams pierced the air, jolting Lucille from her medicated coma like slumber. She looked about the whitewashed prison and grimaced. the only colour that mimicked any of her existence was the faded black Sharpie stain, bold and verboden on the south wall, as she faced west. Another scream pierced the air, and Lucille clutched her ears. She could clearly hear the shrieking patient down the hall; three doors …show more content…
“What are you?” Lucille’s broken voice returned, just as emotionless as the nurse’s from earlier.
“Crazy, just like you. Why else would I be in here with all these other freaks?”
“Are you a girl, boy, neither, both, other, what?” She nudged the crossed legs again.
“A boy. Now leave.” The voice ordered again.
“Wash your hair before you boss others around. You look like a scraggly orphan with a complex.” With that Lucille walked back to her chair to stare at the dead tree again.
Noon the next day, the boy was back, and sat in the same chair, with the same crossed legs. Lucille almost walked past him, until she saw his hair. Washed, conditioned, and trimmed. The bruises were still as apparent as yesterday, only now the matching set of bruises on his collarbone and neck were visible.
“What are you looking at?” He ordered.
“Are you gay?” Lucille asked taking a strand of the boy’s hair into her grasp.
“No, are you?”
“Probably. What’s your name?” Lucille asked taking more hair into her hands and began combing through the strands. The boy pulled away and …show more content…
À suivre, pompous boy.” Lucille walked towards Nurse 34 and then past her back to the white room with nothing but faded black to keep her company.
As the sun set, Lucille ran her slender fingers up and down the hair on her leg and mulled over the newest member of the west wing; his differences to the other patients who were just lambs now. She laid down on her back and closed her eyes knowing a nurse or doctor would be in to check on her and put her in a medical coma if she weren’t already sleeping. She sighed and began to plot the escape from the white prison she’d been held in for the past year and a half Serafin Beaulieu, the pompous faced boy was going to help her whether he liked it or not.
For the next three days Lucille left Serafin alone, and refused to even breathe in his direction. On the fourth day, she sat in his chair waiting for him. She refused to get up when he ordered her to, and invited him to sit on the ottoman that rested before her.
“I have a proposition for you.” Lucille finally said after Serafin continued to stand.
“No.” He spoke, his voice at a place that seemed to be it’s normal resting place. 1234567 Réarrangez la phrase ajoutez probablement plus de