by: Jenna Krebbs
My name is Lana, my mother sent me here three months ago. The reason, I have no idea. I'm too scared to ask why I'm here. I'm fifteen years old the year is 1970.
St. Mary's, the asylum I'm in, has a murderer. A body was found a couple days ago, it terrifies me thinking that there is a killer here.
At the moment, I'm in the social room. One of the only friends I have here walked up to me. Her name is Cleo. She doesn't talk so she just walked up to me and is just starring at me. It's normal for her to do this. At first, I would get pretty freaked out, but I'm used to it now.
The nest thing I know, I wake up in my room. This has been happening for the past year. At one moment I'm in one place, and then I wake up in another. I guess hat could be the reason I'm here at St. Mary's.
I sit up on my bed and here screams from outside my room. Down the hall, I see a nurse bawling her eyes out. Police officers are all around her. A few patients behind me were saying something about another murder. My stomach started to turn. Then the name "Cleo" rang through my ears. I instantly went pale. Cleo had been murdered. I felt like i was gonna be sick. Who in the world would kill Cleo? She'd never hurt a fly! I bolted to my room and sat on my bed. I was too shocked to function. I sat there in silence. I don't know for how long. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. I honestly don't know.
I woke up in a bathroom that I've never seen before. I saw a reflection in the mirror of a knife. I turned around and saw it in a bathtub with dried blood on it. I was so scared that I couldn't even scream.
I picked up a note on the ground and read through it. My whole face turned white. The note had my handwriting. It explained that the blood was Cleo's and the reason that I have blackouts was because I have multiple personality disorder. The person writing this was my other personality, and hat I'm the killer.