Remember that Night

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Mystery and Crime  |  House: Booksie Classic
I was bored so I decided to write a short story. An idea like this has been floating around in my head for days, so I finally wrote it down. It's okay I guess (meaning kinda suckish), but ive never thought my writing was good so feedback would be nice :)

Submitted: July 13, 2012

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Submitted: July 13, 2012

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I sat on my soft bed, huddled up in a ball, tears escaping my closed eyes.

Without warning, I heard the creek of my apartment door. I knew I should have left it locked, but for once I hoped that the person who murdered my parents would do the same to me.

Adrenaline flooded my veins and I shot up, wobbly standing to see that it was just Logan.

"Hey," He said, his voice calming me instantly. In his hands was a bar of Dove dark chocolate, my favorite. Logan walked closer to me.

"Yes?" I wearily responded. No one had come for days. Seeing him shocked some sense into me as I realized how starved I was, considering I hadn't moved from my mattress in more than twenty-four hours.

He held out the candy, and I quickly popped a piece into my mouth, enjoying the melting sensation.

"I just wanted to make sure you were okay." Logan mumbled, taking my hand in his. He stared at my fingers, noticing that I had bitten my nails down to the stubs.

If anyone, he would understand why I had gone into the state I was in. Logan knew how close I was with them, how much I loved them.

"Well," I started, but couldn't finish. I had burst out into loud sobs, running into his open arms and throwing my face down on his shoulder.

"Who would want to kill them," I somehow made out.

After I felt I had gotten myself under control a little, Logan pulled me away from him, staring into my eyes, not letting my drop his gaze.

"Morgan, you have to stop saying that. Think. It wasn’t just some stranger who murdered your parents. Remember that night."

"What do you mean?" I questioned.

"If you can't admit to it, then I can't stay," He hesitantly said. "I don't want to leave you. Just try to recall exactly what happened."

I backed away slightly, my eyes showing how confused I was by everything he was saying. After a few minutes had passed, he shook his head and said, "Then I have to go."

I didn’t have time to protest before he placed one hand on my shoulder, holding me in a grip that I couldn't escape with my little strength, and placed his lips on mine.

For the short time we kissed, memories flooded my mind, but I couldn't see exactly what each picture was. Everything was blurry.

Just as quickly as he came, Logan was gone.

I looked at me feet and saw the chocolate laying by them. I picked it up and took another bite, closing my watery eyes and seeing the same photos in my head. This time, they were clear as day.

A long butcher knife, blood dripping off of it. My dad, three bloody holes stabbed into his chest. Red, sticky liquid splattered on the walls of my parent's bedroom.

Rapidly, they turned into videos playing inside of my mind. Coming into the room, seeing my mother and father sleeping in their king-sized bed, swiftly cutting the man on the right with the large blade.

Finally, it hit me. The murderer was me.

More short films: My mom begging me to realize what I was doing, her cries as I pulled the knife up to her, just as I had done to my other guardian. Their lifeless bodies sprawled across the floor, sitting in large pools of blood.

My eyes burst back open just to see my brown residence walls fading into white, a black glass window taking up the majority of one side of the square room.

'Wha- where am I?" I stuttered. There was no reply. My twin, memory foam mattress was replaced by a single bunker, no sheets or pillows placed on it.

Besides my uncomfortable bed, there was nothing in the place I was in. On the same wall as the window, there was a metal, one-foot door with a small counter stationed under the opening.

I ran towards it, trying to pry it open, only to find no handle to help. I glanced at my wrists to see steel handcuffs grasping them.

I fell down, leaning against the side of one of the bleached walls, not having the energy to cry. I couldn’t tell how fast time was moving, but soon after, I blacked out.

"This is number 39501?" asked Dr. Adam, head of the Institute. He stared through the one-way glass window, observing the passed-out teen inside the white room.

"Yes. Morgan, sir." Replied one of the many guards standing nearby.

"Ahh, I have seen this before." He finished. He picked up one of the files on the desk by the glass and opened it, picking out one of the many papers inside.

It read:

Name: Morgan Hamilton Sex: Female Age:18

Reason for imprisonment: Killed both parents. Unable to remember how it happened. Goes into psycho states with no self-control. Possesses undetermined mental insanity.

Patient must stay at Psychiatric hospital for lifetime.

Lunatic Asylum

For the insane


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