Feeling Lucky?

WRITTEN BY PATIENT #77

"Feeling lucky?"

The Suited Gentleman was what he called himself, found himself into my room for some odd reason.

I couldn't bother to ask any further questions considering where my mind was focused on: being here. More specifically how I loathed being here.

Terrible food. Terrible showers. Constant complaining from the staff who ask me to get outside and grab some fresh air with the patients.

I will admit that some of hte people here are nice and all but most of the time they're unpredictable, just like the ones outside of this place. I didn't ask to be here in the first place. Sure I admit that I was clunky in the head, that a stick was in the way of the gears working my brain and body.

But does schizophrenia really cause any damage? Especially when you got a brain that's essentially imagining funny things like flying toasters or talking goats and it doesn't really harm anyone.

Not like I hurted anyone I know.

So much for freedom of expression.

"A little bird told me you really want out of this place. Breath the fresh air."

"Did the little bird really say that?"

"Nah not really." the Gentleman said. He raised his hand from below up to his shoulder. The checkered floor below me morphed, almost bended from side to side. A large yellow line appeared, morning into a giant rectangular box, it spawned a large wheel, all blemished with black and white, except for a blue section with said FREEDOM in yellow

I smirked. I've seen these kinds of things at arcade games, only I knew I wouldn't be winning any tickets.

So many colors and so many writings.

"You got 3 tries." The suited gentleman said. The door was locked, which was a good thing. By the time somebody came knocking, asking me to come out, I stayed in silence, and gave the wheel a spin.

The arrow on the wheel landed on ABSOLUTELY NOTHING, coated in white.

"Nothing bad, but nothing good either." The Gentleman said. "Try again."

I did as he was told. This time the arrow landed on TOUGH LUCK, coated in black. I grumbled and gave one more spin. It was harder and faster than before. I glared at the wheel as it began to slow down its spin. My eyes felt like they were going to pop as my heart beated, hoping it would land on FREEDOM

It nearly did. Instead it landed on a very thin black line. I couldn't see what was written on there, so I when close and got a look.

ÝOU'RE A DEAD MAN, which was written in white

Before I could ask, I turned to see the suited gentleman holding a gun to my head.

"I didn't say you'd be full free, now did I?" was all the suited gentleman said.

It was also the last thing I heard.