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Sweet Dreams, From Charlie

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Who would have thought, thrown into a nut house and locked in like an animal. Just because I saw her.

I should have saw it coming. I mean, the weird creaks from the floor, like some cliche horror show, the opening windows, leading to something of mine going missing, and worst of all...the notes.

I-I mean, those notes didn't say much. Each night, every letter was the same. The same choppy, crimson red letter curving and dipping all over the page. Only two words, to ruin my life. 'Sweet Dreams...'

I don't know why, or how, but she did it. She got what she wanted. An innocent person wasting their life away in a nut house.

I can still remember every feature. How couldn't I? She tried to murder me! Those cold, blue eyes, sickeningly sweet smile, blond hair matted with blood, and her face. The worst of all. Covered in cuts and stitches, wounds and bruises. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her, bit I then remembered she had snuck into my room at 4:00 AM and was holding a large kitchen knife to my throat.

A cut here, a scratch there, even one deep line on my forehead. I would be lying if I said I wasn't scared out of my goddamn mind. She was cutting my face up, and enjoying it. That smile her wider, and her eyes seemed to glow as she laughed.

After that, I don't know. Maybe she drugged me, cut me somewhere, but she knocked me out. Cold. The last words I heard before my sanity and piece of mind slip away, "Sweet dreams..."

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