Commitment by Alex Whalen

“A lobotomy, it doesn’t sound threatening,” I repeated to myself while I lie on the cold metal slab. I know it was unnecessary, but like all patients I lost the already damned battle. Let me explain myself to someone I know is willing to listen. You.

It all started with my sentence to the asylum, the place that would assuage the life of someone like me…a lunatic as they called it. At first like every other truthfully sane person that was sent to decay within the walls of this place, I was told that I was recovering. That I will surely be released soon. LIES! I knew it would never happen. I would never feel the calming rays of the sun reach me. I would never be able to enjoy the umbrage in the meadow behind my house ever again.

Weeks, then months, then years passed until I got the rush of happiness and freedom of the surmise of my sentence of this wretched prison. They said it would ameliorate me. I got to speak with the head of this so called hospital.

“They said you’re doing better,” He paused then it came, “What do you think?”

Nervously the words spilled out of my mouth. “Yes, I agree.”

He then replied with no hesitation to thought, not even the slightest bit of consideration. “Unfortunately your psych evaluation tells a different story.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s been stated by your doctor that you seem unstable and extremely agitated by even the simplest things.”

I couldn’t believe what I just heard. I’m being forced to stay in this living hell for the rest of my pathetic life.

As I walked out of the room this cold sensation filled my body. Further down the hall I saw him, the man that filled my head with lies. I can’t describe the feeling of rage that overcame me.

“How was the meeting?” He said followed by a grimace more crazed than the mind of anyone admitted to this place.

At this point I realized.

“You did it on purpose.”

“Excuse me?” The words crawling from his lips like demons from hell.

“You did,” I said.

He just laughed.

“You’re mistaken. Have you taken your pills?”

I froze. I couldn’t move. The rage I stopped me in my tracks. So many things were going through my head but nothing made sense. He pulled his quill tip pen from his pocket.

“Here’s another prescription for your medication.” He pulled the paper from the pad and stuck out his hand. I stood there in awe. The one person who knew I was sane and could have helped me get released was keeping me in.

I stood speechless staring at the paper in his hand. My mind went blank. The only thing in my head was revenge. I looked at his chest and there was my instrument of revenge, his pen. I reached my hand out but not far for the prescription. I snatched the pen out of his pocket.

The words fell from his mouth, “Orderly!” One’s attacking me.”

But, before anyone could react I grabbed his lab coat and threw him against the stone cold wall and whispered in his ear. “I along I let you convince me I was the lunatic, but no—you are. I have to help every other sane person here and end your sociopathic reign of this hell!”

A smile came over his face. “But, I didn’t get caught.”

Then I lost all control and thrust the sharp tip of the pen across his neck and let him fall into the lurid scene of his own blood. I stepped away and dropped my instrument of revenge. Not even seconds passed before the head of the hospital ran to the scene, dropped to his knees, and looked up.

“What the hell have you done!”

I did this hell a favor. I felt a sharp pain in my neck. I looked behind me and saw a blurry figure of an orderly hit me. I was injected with a sedative and…I fell.