Me VS Me

In an insane asylum, criminally insane ward room 642 third hall to the left last door on the right, in that very room lies a girl convicted of a murder she didnt commit, forced to plead insanity to avoid a jail sentence. Here lies in that very room a girl who knows the answer to all their questions, the truth to the lies that were told. The truth to who really killed Dylan. Here lies the smartest of them all and her name is Karmalita Prescott.

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2. The Message

Silence. Stone silence is the key. I haven’t spoken a word since my screaming episode last week. Partially because my voice is so hoarse I can barely whisper and partially because I don’t want any secrets to slip. Especially secret that could prove as incriminating evidence against Donavan and Kristy. I have to keep them safe. Their the most innocent out over everybody whose mixed up in this twisted murder mystery. But anything I say could potentionally hurt them. My dad came to see me yesterday. It was terrible.

*Flashback of the vist*

 

Im sitting at the desk painting on the easel they brought me. Im painting silently.

I can hear the nurse guy outside my door talking to dad trying but failing to speak in a hushed whisper.

 

“She hasn’t spoken a word since she got here. We don’t push our patients to talk if they don’t want to because maybe they just need time to adjust to the new life style. Mr. Carnigan - Prescott, I advise you to be very careful around your daughter we don;t know whats going on inside her head.

 

Dad responds to him in a tight weary voice, “I know how to talk to my daughter Nurse Ronford. But thank you very much for the advice.”

 

I hear the jangle of keys and the door to my room slowly opens.

 

“Hey Karmalita you have a visitor.”

I pretend not to hear or notice them come in and continue painting.

 

I hear the deep Dark mellotones of my dad’s voice “Hey baby girl how are you?”

I don’t answer him as i paint a blue streak across the paper. Out of my peripheral vision I see my dad squirming  the chair he sat in un comfortably and wringing his hands.

“Mom said she’s sorry she couldn’t make it today she had to work and couldn’t get anytime off.” he gave a slight chuckle,” you know how her boss is.”

I cocked my head to the side and continue painting.

My dad was having  a whole conversation with his self just rambling off things that have happened at home while I’ve been away. When he finally paused I tapped him on his shoulder picked up my painting and showed it to him. It was a simple picture but his jaw dropped to the ground when he read the words that were painted in greens, blues and reds. Four simple word that read:

    I DIDN’T KILL DYLAN

 

*End flashback*

 

Every since yesterday, when by some “miracle” the words in my picture spelled out that, the nurses, investigators and everybody else has been hounding me to talk. They’ve confiscated all my paintings they said that they were going to analyze them for more clues, as If i had painted the secret to this whole twisted up murder within my pictures, but I can promise you that the only thing they’ll find are farm houses and rolling green hills. I’m not that stupid, in fact I’m not stupid at all I knew what I was doing when I painted that picture. It was meant to be a message. Just something to get them interested in what I had to say. The first key to exposing all the lies that had been told, to convicting those who had killed Dylan. If the ones who did it are reading this right now, well, you should be ashamed of yourself.



 

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