Asylum | Teen Ink


April 15, 2015
By Caroline Starr BRONZE, Rye, New Hampshire
Caroline Starr BRONZE, Rye, New Hampshire
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

It had been a week since my older sister, Violet had returned from the mental institution at our local hospital. About a month ago, she began acting unnaturally weird. Her eyes glowed yellow, her speech muffled, and foreign, something I had never heard anyone speak before. Her body was able to bend in ways I had never seen, and I would be sure her bones would snap. She never talked to me anymore, and she shut my family out. I was the first to notice. The doctors told us she would be okay living amongst her family or other normal humans at home. I disagree. She’s possessed. She’s sick. She’s angry. The doctors performed many exorcisms, which changed nothing. They just think she’s insane. She screams. She groans. She begs, “Help! Save me!” or, “Please… don’t hurt me.” I don’t know Violet anymore. Her eyes used to shine a magnificent blue, and a sweet smile was always on her face. But now, walking by her is like passing someone you don’t know at school. I acknowledge her, but wouldn’t even think about introducing myself.
I sat alone in my bedroom, every lamp on, hoping to keep Violet’s demons out, blasting music to tune out her voice. Her voice-- it used to be so sweet, so gentle and quiet, but now, it was vicious, and frightening. I found that I was always hiding from her, looking up and down the dark hallways of my house. She rarely attacks me, but past experiences have left me afraid of my own sister, and struggling to conquer that fear.
Though I had the pop station blasting on iTunes radio, I could still hear her loud hissing, some sort of demonic language, which sounded like a mix of angry Russian and snake. I sat with my back against the door, in case somehow she could pick the lock, or bust the door down. Her sharp claws made screeching noises as they slid down the outside of the door. My spine tingled, and goose bumps formed on my skin. “I know you’re in there, Sarah,” she hissed, “come play a game with me!” I had seen this enough to know she actually did want to play a game, but my fear kept me from opening the door.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I rose to my feet and turned my back to the door. Darkness began to peek through my shades as I turned off my music, then took a deep breath. I couldn’t live being afraid of my own sister, and she couldn’t live with me being afraid of her. I took slow steps back towards the door, then reached out and twisted the knob. I slowly opened the door, but once there was enough space for my head to peek out, I hadn’t even noticed when the scratching stopped. I peered down the hall, and she was nowhere in sight, not even in the shadows. I turned on every light I passed, and listened carefully for her usual heavy breathing as I crept down the hallway.
As I passed the bathroom and turned to head downstairs, I heard the bathroom door creak and slam shut. Violet pounded on the door from the inside, and screeched louder than I had ever heard her. “Sarah!” she yelled my name, “Sarah!” After that, the noise calmed, and I realized I was pressed against the wall. I took a few steps forward, then waited for any noise from the bathroom. I let myself exhale. Right as I did, the door swung open, and Violet pounced on me, gripping my bony shoulders with her vicious hands. “Sarah!” she yelled my name again. Her eyes were wide and yellow, and her face bright red as she yelled my name over and over, getting closer to my face every time. I was in tears now, shaking more than I ever had and knew I could do nothing besides call for help.
I laid still in Violet’s grip, calling for my mother. “Violet,” I pleaded, “let go of me. Please, let’s go play a game. I will do whatever you want to do. Please… please…” I gasped for breath as tears kept pouring out of my eyes. She seemed to feel sorry when she saw the pain I was in, and she quickly released me, ran, and shut herself in her room, while muttering her language.

That night I sat in the hallway, watching Violet in her room from the outside the open door, my knees tucked to my chest. Violet writhed in some sort of pain on the floor, crying loudly. I felt bad. No, I felt horrible. I wanted to help her and comfort her, but it felt wrong. I didn’t know her anymore, and it’s weird to comfort someone you don’t know. I couldn’t watch any longer, and crawled back into my own room.
In my dream, Violet was attacking herself, and something else, which was invisible to me. She strangled herself, sliced herself, ran into the wall as hard as she could. Blood fell from her nose. I felt myself move to go help her, but as I did, she snapped her own neck at a ninety degree angle. I screamed as I sat up in my bed in the dark. I looked around, and saw no sign of Violet. I laid back down and rolled  onto my side. My eyes fluttered, trying to go back to sleep, but I could not ignore those yellow eyes glaring back at me. Her yellow eyes. I tried to scream, but her arm was too fast and I felt her cold hand cover my mouth. I slapped her off of me, backing away. I watched cautiously as she punched the wall in aggravation, yelping every time her knuckles smacked against it.
“Violet,” I whispered her name trying to stop her without getting myself hurt. “Sarah?” she responded, tilting her head far to the side. “Violet, go back to bed,” I choked, still out of breath.
“Sarah.” She kept saying my name.
“Violet, go back to bed,” I said getting frustrated with her.
“Run,” she hissed, rushing to me until our noses nearly touched. I did not flinch. “Run,” she repeated. I noticed she was shaking violently. I could not run from my sister.
“I’m your sister. Your only sister. You can’t hurt me, Vi,”
“I’m your sister,” I kept reminding her.
I thought I saw the yellow glow die down from her eyes. Her breathing calmed. She sat down on the floor next to my bed, and I thought I saw a tear roll down her cheek. “Okay, Vi? Go back to bed,” I said gently, stroking her hair with a shaky hand. “We’ll play a game tomorrow.”

I thought I saw her sweet smile.

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