Walking around (FINISHED)

[baylee thomas shepherd]

YOU CAN FEEL THE POUNDING WRAPPED AROUND YOUR CHEST
BAYLEETHOMASSHEPHERD

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NOTHING'S TOO EXCESSIVE WHEN YOU'VE GOT NOTHING LEFT
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The hallways, the prefect place to explore at least. Staying in this Asylum wasn’t that bad as his last one. His scars on his left arm were healing fine, he haven’t attempt to reopen the scars like he done before. Now he wishes is to go home and get along with his life, whatever that would be. His skin was lot healthier, it was showing that he was getting better. Baylee didn’t know that the shock therapy he have been given at his last hospital, have cause more harm, so far he been settled and couldn’t remember what happened his family, which was one of the side effects of the treatment.

Carrying a black and white photograph of his parents he cried, he missed them so much, and wished they would come and get him out of this place. The trouble is, Baylee has no idea that his parents were never coming back. He can’t remember of them dying in the car crash, and why he ended up in an asylum in the first place. The things he only remember are the abused he got from the doctors and patients at his old asylum. Everything else was a blank. His blue eyes were hurting deeply, so far his voices have left him alone and he was normal, just like any teenager really.

Still exploring the hallway, Baylee stopped and looked at some photos which were on the wall. Again something which his old asylum didn’t have. Maybe they don’t use the shock therapy here he thought, and just stared at the picture, going into his own dream world. Blocking every little sound away from him, like it was just him alone on a sandy beach.

Finally he reached the courtyard again and going towards his favourite spot hoping to be able too cut himself again. His left arm was bandaged from the last time and was tightly wrapped too prevent himself taking it off. He was sneaky again as he hidden a knife in his socks this time, as he was regularly checked over for weapons. So he was unable too keep them in the pockets like he normally does. Finally he reached his favourite spot and began to sit down, waiting for the right too cut as he had the knife now in his right hand.

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WE'RE ALL HERE CAUSE WE LOST CONTROL WE'RE ALL HERE CAUSE
WELOSTCONTROL

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WE'RE ALL HERE CAUSE WE LOST CONTROL WE'RE ALL HERE CAUSE[/center]

•tags• Open
•status• Complete
•comments• Recycled and rubbished starter
•word count• three nine four
•lyrics• DIE TONIGHT, LIVE FOREVER by InnerPartySystem
•credit• AMANDA THE PIRATE * @ CAUTION !

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[margaret tabitha ellis]

sometimes, marge hated the quad. residents would fill it's space, and it would've been a good place to think if those pesky children weren't there to make mags feel uncomfortable. normally, she would just lock herself up in her room, but that was little ghost central and her worries nagged her even more in her safe zone. her little reading hole had been taken by some emo kids who thought that cutting was cool and were showing each other their signs of weakness. her endeavors to become perfect clearly showed that cutting did in fact weaken you. whenever the poor child was wrong, a series of self-inflicted wounds came upon her. whether it was a cut or the belt, mags knew all too much how weak she was.

it wasn't time for reading, the quad wasn't safe for reading. so mags just brought her smuggled pack of cigarettes and a lighter. living here at the asylum - or so she called it - made her life as dull as possible, which mags wasn't complaining about. the plain existence almost ensured that she wouldn't get jumped or anything of the like - but when you were lulled into a false sense of security, everything would collapse. and so, with that realization, maggie quickly was aware of the danger she was in. who knew what kinds of dangers were out here! marge sure didn't.

mags sat down as soon as she could, obvlivious to the person next to her. as strange as it may be, once margaret goes into flight or fight mode, she stops noticing things and the only way to stop that is a smoke. the usually very observant young woman was experiencing the worst paranoia. what if someone came a slit my throat? raped me? episodes like these made maggie panic like a watchful rabbit, as if her foot was thumping on the ground, alerting her brain of the danger. she tore a cigarette from the pack and lit it as quickly as her unstable hands could manage. marge took a long drag, looking as if she would swallow the cigarette then and there. her body shook and shivered with every inhale, comforting the redhead. hopefully it would calm down her jittery nerves to the point of almost being "normal". that bothered mags. perfect people don't smoke to calm down; they smoke for the hell of it. but she wouldn't dare put it out; her mind was still on the edge. and so, after a few minutes of watching the smoke rise into the sky, mags was finally aware that she was sitting next to someone. not knowing what to do, marge scrambled up onto her feet, mentally kicking herself for being so stupid.

ALRIGHTT, THIS CRAZY MOFO HERE IS INTERACTING WITH BAYLEE WITH A GRAND TOTAL OF FOUR HUNDRED FIFTY FIVE WORDS. AND I'VE GOTTA ADD THAT MAGS... SWEET MAGS. CALM DOWN. THE WONDERFUL EMILIE AUTUMN SANG GOD HELP ME, WHICH I BORROWED FOR THIS SHINDIG. OH AND THIS WAS MADE BY YOUR'S TRUELY.

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[baylee thomas shepherd]

(I am sorry but I have dropped this thread, due too the fact I have been sick and lost muse.)