Psycho?

As she stared into the dark, she wondered what her mother might say to her when they met again, if they ever did. Her hair was messy, her dress ripped and her feet aching from the long walk in the deep forest. Her biggest regret at the moment was having left her shoes in the hazzle. Of course, if she knew the whole truth, she´d regret a little more than just shoes.

She could hear them getting closer. Those voices she had been hearing all day. Branches hit her face when she started running again, it was as if the trees wanted to stop her. She couldn´t stop her sobbing. She was scared of how this would end. The voices weren´t familiar to her, though she felt like they knew her. And they sounded angry. She was running as fast as she possibly could. Yet somehow it wasnt fast enough. She screamed at the voices to leave her alone. She screamed at them that she had done nothing wrong. In the end she just screamed. Nothing in particular. She just had to scream. It was the only thing that could make the voices stop for a moment.

When she stopped screaming they started again. She felt all hope leave her mind. She fell to the ground. The voices consumed her. Her awareness slowly died out. Soon she only felt her own heartbeat. That thump eventually put her to sleep.



That same night a group of policemen was sent out early in the morning to search for a 23 year old woman reported missing by her mother on the night of april 21st This group divided into several small flocks. One of those smaller flocks included three men, all in their early thirties.

One of them was missing an important football game. One was missing his daughters first words, of course he had no idea at the time. And the last one was ditching his plan of proposing to his girlfriend.

If they had been paying more attention to what they were supposed to do, looking around, and less to the fact that they really wanted to be doing something else at the moment, they might have heard or seen the girl coming up behind them. Before they knew it she had jumped on the back of Matt, the football fan, and tackled him to the ground. He screamed to the others for help, but they weren´t fast enough. She jammed a small branch into his neck. His cries for help turned into agonizing screams of pain. His mouth filled with blood and shortly he was dead. His friends not able to help him in any way. They stood there, frozen, for a few moments, but when she ran at the father, he managed to jump her so she fell down. Unconcious.



This 23 year old woman, Dalia Summers, was immediately locked in a Phsyciatric hospital in Phoenix.

A few days later, in the same hospital an intern started his internship. He was a 26 year old named Scott. He had studied in California, and was incredibly excited to finally be able to see what he was in for. He´d never stepped foot inside a mental ward before. The date was april 25th and his only assignment for the week was to follow a dr. Phillips around all day, every day. Even though this didn't sound so interesting to him, he thought it might be a whole lot better than sitting in a classroom, listening to the same lectures over and over again. So he did what he was told.

All day he followed the doctor around, wherever he went. He had time to investigate the hospital, because they spent a lot of their day simply walking around the halls, communicating with the patients. Most people were out of it. Some didn't seem like they cared about anything anymore. Just sat there, looking spitefully at the doctor as he walked past them.

As they were walking through the last hallway he saw a dark-haired woman sitting on the floor by her bed. The sign on the door said “Dalia S.” She was reading a book, completely in her own world. He could not help but notice how out of place she was. He found himself staring at her as she sat there quietly, drinking what he assumed was coffee.

When his mentor called him for the third time he finally snapped out of it. A lot of the patients were staring at him due to the noise. She did not so much as look up. It was as if she was unaware of the world around her. She was perfectly calm, and her grace was nearly visible.

Scott walked away with the doctor and finished this first day, but the image of that girl was stuck in his mind. She was so beautiful. He thought about her still on his way home. Her electric blue eyes, lively black hair, petit figure, elegant hands. She had unknowingly trapped him in a cirlce of thoughts.

At home he was greeted by his dog, Bessie. He feared he might oversleep the next day if he didn´t go to bed right away, so he didn´t bother taking her for a walk that night. “Tomorrow” He promised. He fell asleep with the sound of Bessie chewing her toy, and the image of that woman stuck in his head.



About an hour away from Scott´s home lived a woman. Her husband was gone a long time ago, and her 23 year old daughter was locked up resently. She walked around her empty house, which could barely be called a home anymore, and looked at photos of her daughter. Sher ran her fingers through a strand of hair that had been cut from Dalia when she no longer liked her hair long. Soon after that she changed the color as well. Inspite of a mothers honest try to get her daughter not to change, Dalia was sure of what she wanted.

It was a night of regrets. All alone with only your thoughts. It can get ugly. This woman regretted nothing more than taking a second job. She had left her child alone for much too long, and believed that to be part of the reason for the sudden breakdown. There were many things she could have done differently to prevent what happened. She could not cope.

Watching her husband die twelve years ago had ripped her to shreds. But this. This was a whole lot worse than dying. Her own daugher, the little girl she had raised to look at the bright side of life, had no memory of her. It was as if they had never met. The emptiness in her strong, blue eyes shone through. Her hair was damp, and she was uncomfortably calm.

How can a mother hold on if her family is taken away in such a way? It´s hard. Few have to know. But those who do, barely manage. She tried to find a way. But it was too hard. She didn´t want to wait this one out. She was set on ending the story herself. And she did.

Her neighbours came to the house three days later only to see her body hanging on the ceiling, a note on the floor beneath her, simply saying; “I really tried.”