She always scribbled notes in the strangest of places. Had I not held my sanity so dear, I would have read them all. Just a glance at the concrete wall gave me a headache.
"The longer the life, the graver the doom," I read aloud from one of her walls. My words echoed throughout the prisonhall; doom, doom, doom.
I had always found Ashley Barker disturbing. Unlike the rest of the patients on St. Helena's Mental Hospital, she always seemed to know things no one else did. But no one had expected her suicide. Had she foreseen it herself?
They had only found only her body and her bloodied pen, which she had even managed to write on somehow. Ashley had stabbed herself in the heart with it, it would seem. Just like she had written on the prison bars; "Stab stab stab, you never see it coming." The first we did was question the other patients. Some claimed they still saw her ghost haunting the halls. Curtis "Facerip" Austin would simply laugh at the mention of her.
"Ashley? Ashley didn't die today. She was dead before she even got to this hellhole." My boss wanted to call the police to investigate further, but I told him that this wasn't a case. It was a mystery.
So they gave me an hour before they would clean up her cell. An hour to fit the pieces. Was Ashley simply insane? Somehow I wouldn't believe it. I took a seat on her dusty bed and looked at the ink-stained wall before me. The writings seemed chaotic; some small, some big, some cursive, none the same. They did not seem to make sense, any of them. But perhaps that was only when they stood alone. Maybe they fit together somehow, in one big jigsaw puzzle. And in a puzzle it is always easy to begin by finding the corners.
"Hello." I read aloud from Ashley's pillow.
Hello. Ashley Barker is my name, but some call me insane. However, that is simply a word used to describe something you cannot understand. For the sole reason that I was different got me put in a crazy house. But perhaps this is where I belong. I understand the people who live here. Some I understand better than they even understand themselves. But in a world like ours where words and actions define so much of who we are, who doesn't get a bit lost in in who they are? The only reason I still even remember my own name is because I every day remind myself of who I am. I hang on to this thought, and ignore the whispers in my mind as best I can. Stab stab stab, you never see it coming. Gods and queens and schoolkids and demons. The raven shrieks the gun shoots. However, sometimes the whispers make sense. Sometimes they tell me the actual truth; that life is just a long road of mistakes and tears and insults. And though you might be so lucky to get a few moments of happiness some times, they will never last forever. The unhappiness will keep coming, and the longer the life, the graver the doom. Why should you base your life on just the hope of a better tomorrow? I know I won't.
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140,182 Literary Works • 673,037 Reviews
I love your writing style. For someone your age it was really well written. I was entertained the whole time. Keep up the good work.
This was interesting, although I find some parts in need of review; for example:
"But no one had expected her suicide. Had she foreseen it herself?"
How can one not 'foresee' their own suicide when they plan it themselves. I don't think the question makes sense, unless it's a type of deliberate figurative element which I don't understand.
Apart from that, it's a very good story.
I believe it means that the main character thinks she was so insane she couldn't control her own actions and lived by the whispers in her head. But as always, literature is up to the reader to interpret.
I have no idea what to say on this one. It was absolutely brilliant. It was deep, sad, and even had a touch of creepy; a lovely combination. The writing was smooth and depicted the scribbles on the cell walls perfectly.
I liked it.
Thank you
I loved the suspense and the way the scrbblings were so chaotic but made a lot of sense at the same time. Any more to come?
I don't plan to make this novel to series, no. But I've got more work like this that I plan to post if you're interested
This is a great story, it is sad, yet, holds a lot of meaning. That's all writing is, words. Words written down and assembled like a puzzle into a meaningful sentence. And then the sentences are assembled into paragraphs, paragraphs into stories, stories into books, books into series. There is a never ending torrent of words that we writers voice in our stories. I think that you have illustrated this very well. The words make endless stories, and the torrent never ends.
I really liked this story. I don't know that I would have much advice to give, other than to keep writing. I'm really hooked.
My favorite part of the story is the last paragraph. I really like Ashley's voice as a character. Your diction in that part was especial nice. I found the incomplete sentences the most interesting, like when you said "Gods and queens and schoolkids and demons." It gave the character a bit of depth.
Like I said, it's a good story. You've got to keep working on it.
Thanks for the kind words mate!
I really enjoyed writing it as well.