The screams in the distance slowly subsided as I heard the metal door of the electric shock room close. I saw the doctor walk past my dungeon-like cell and from the smirk on his face I knew what had just happened. Another "lunatic" had been given the electric shock treatment. I shook my head as I looked around my cell. It wasn't even big enough for me to stretch out completely. There was a metal bench on which I was sitting, and no window to see the outside world with. The metal door had a small grilled window through which I was given my everyday needs.
Sitting in this cell, I didn't even know why I was here, what I had done. I wasn't insane, I was as normal as anyone could be. No, I had been framed, my worst enemy was clever, and he must've been following my moves for years. Being locked up in this dingy, dark place for three years had absolutely no effect on me, I knew I was sane and I guess this was what prevented me from becoming a lunatic. These cells were bad enough to drive any sane person to complete insanity, so one can only imagine what kind of effect it had on a real lunatic.
Three and a half years ago, on a sunny Friday afternoon, I was almost done planning out my first murder, a crime I was going to commit later that day. That itself sounds very insane, but I had a good reason. This man had killed my father, who was a famous politician at the time. Soon after my father's assassination he kidnapped my dear sister, raped her, and then killed her. He chopped her body into a hundred pieces and sent my mother her remains in a bag drenched with blood, smelling of rotten meat. It was the most gruesome thing I had ever seen. I was still quite young, being only fourteen years old, so I didn't really understand much of what was happening. At the time my mother, also involved in politics, didn't tell me the truth. I found out the truth later on in my life after reading a letter the man has sent my mother. That day I vowed I would get my revenge.
I had been working on my plan for almost two years before I had finally decided what I should do and how I should do it. For five years I had been haunted every night by images of my father's coffin, my sister's chopped up body, and my mother's sad and panicked face. Every night I could hear my sister screaming as he forced himself upon her. Though it had happened sixteen years ago, every image in my head was just as vivid as if it had happened just yesterday. Just the thought of that man made me so angry, so depressed, and so hurt that all I wanted to do was make him suffer for everything he had ever done to my family. That was the main reason why I had joined the police force in the first place, to keep myself fit and to find out every detail about Michael Sylinskie.
Unfortunately my plan didn't work out as I wanted it to. Instead it backfired and hit me really hard in the face, leaving me in such a position that I could do absolutely nothing. Sylinskie turned out to be a lot smarter than I had thought, he must've known that I would find out about what he did and so he literally stalked me, and my every move had been known by him. When I found him, I was going to kill him, but he was pleading, begging for his life. I lost my temper and punched him, hurt him really bad. Only problem was that the police from another police station were hiding in his house, watching everything that had happened. They caught hold of me and put me in jail for attempted murder.
Not only that, when it came time for the court hearing, these policemen made up their own story about what had happened to make me look like a mental case. Sylinskie had framed me, made me look like a lunatic to the whole world and made himself look like the nicest man one could ever meet. Not once did Sylinskie show his face in court, but that was probably because he couldn't afford to get caught. So finally the judges passed my sentence, I was to live in a mental asylum in a top security cell until the doctors there could declare me sane and prove my sanity on a crosscheck with at least five other renowned doctors in the same field. So here I was, rotting in a tiny jail cell in a mental hospital while the actual lunatic was out running free, killing and raping more innocent people.
At first I protested, I kept losing my temper, only proving to the doctors that I was really insane. I kept telling them I was innocent, but they only thought I was having delusions about what I had done so they just confirmed my insanity. Slowly, after undergoing almost eight shock treatments, I finally learned how to live in this hell. I had to keep quiet about my so called "crime" and just do as they wanted. I was to keep as quiet as possible, and just ignore the guard's constant teasing and shouting. No more complaining, no more shouting, no more telling everyone I was innocent. So like this I had been living for the past one year, quiet, conserved, obedient.
A/N: so tell me how it is...this is the first story like this that i've ever written. i've finished the story, and i can guarantee a good end. well R&R...thanks!!