Mindf u c k

Landscapes passed by swiftly, visual through dark tinted windows of a police transport vehicle; motion blur was all the crazed girl could see as her swollen shades slowly lifted. The young lady could feel every single bump that the tires traveled over, it brought on so much pain. Tears abruptly pooled within the corners of her orbs; she began to cry and hyperventilate. With her wrists cuffed behind her back, there she lay, realizing she was restrained and just tossed upon the floor of a van. The murdering girl tried to turn onto her side, releasing the tears that waited so patiently to be set free. Down over her dirty cheeks, streams developed, her teeth clenched tightly together, her jaw locked into place to try to ease the discomfort.

The view, standard issued police uniform, black combat boots; blood visible upon the toe. The crimson liquid oozed from the side of her busted mouth. Dripping onto the surface below; Veronica could taste it, the sourness of her lip being split open and bleeding, along with a back tooth broken, she spit it out without a care. The pain was strong and shooting in many different directions, forcing grunts and groaning. Was she dying? What irony that would be, to kill her father and die shortly after. She wanted to bathe in the glory of it for at least a little while.

Unfortunately, Veronica already acquired a bad reputation; since she was a young child, she was constantly in some form of trouble. Filled with hate, she would be physically violent with any form of law enforcement, and now, even for a seventeen-year-old, she was treated like an adult. The policemen in her town had no problem laying a hand on her, nor a knee to the gut for that matter. She often dished it out pretty hard for her small size, and with pride, she took whatever consequences came as a result. Cringing suddenly, she tried to curl into the fetal position. The harrowing sensation in her abdomen was sharp and intense. With more awareness, she could feel aching all over her body. Veronica had no idea that once she was taken into custody, the officers drugged her with a tranquilizer to calm her down, but, it sedated her instead, and they took turns having a few punches and kicks. The young lady was beaten up pretty badly, and, the officers would just blame it on the deceased. They would make up a story that her abusive father beat her. What did it matter? She was going to be locked up for the rest of her life anyway for his death.

Her head was spinning and she began to mumble something under her breath; spitting out blood as it took a lot out of her to even whisper. “What?” asked a rookie that just so happened to be sitting where her head lifted from the floor. “Fvck... you!” she repeated louder, making sure he heard her nice and clearly that time. Her head then rested back down and the man glared at the insane girl, anger building inside, he offered her a crooked grin, then gave her a good kick to the face, stomping his right boot down onto her head multiple times until she eventually fell unconscious; soon after, he was finally stopped by a fellow officer and pulled away from her almost lifeless body.

“She is such a bitch.” the male huffed and puffed, feeling extreme aggression, yet, still proud of himself as he wiped a splat of her blood from his chin onto the sleeve of his shirt. “Yeah, I know man, just go take a breather.” the fellow officer suggested and the male nodded, spat down at Veronica, and moved closer to the driver of the van. The interjecting officer then sat in his place and leaned down, checking Veronica's pulse and making sure she would even last long enough to make it there. The punk wasn't moving, she was out cold and a filthy mess, but, she was still alive, and she would make it, she would survive.

It was always that way for Veronica, surviving, one day at a time. This time, she was not to be transported to the penitentiary as she thought would happen. Assuming she would be taken there and eventually, a visit from her mother, brother, and lawyer. She figured she would be out of holding in no time. However, with her condition, criminal background, and hospital records; she was to go straight to “Whittingham”, an institution for the criminally insane. Veronica Blackwood would have to be supervised there while her fathers' death was investigated. There wasn't much to investigate, Veronica pulled the trigger and would confess to it, she would cooperate fully even though she knew nobody would believe her side of the story. Her record gave her untrustworthy ill fame of being a street rat.

She was guilty of killing her father, and the tortured believes she had probable cause, he was going to rape her...again. It was a crime of fury and passion from years of abuse. The battered girl was convinced that she did the right thing.

The stay at the new hospital “Whittingham” wouldn't be anything different to Veronica, the girl had been in and out of many hospitals and detention centers. Nevertheless, she hasn't been to this institution before; in fact, she knew nothing of the place. It was considered a final destination for those that the world no longer had room for nor cared for. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too long, perhaps her mother and brother would get ahold of her lawyer quickly. There would be a fast track trial and she would be found not guilty.

No worries.

Soon, the van carrying Veronica pulled up the driveway around the back of a building and parked. The structure was constructed from small red brick, very old; lack of maintenance could be seen, it was falling apart. The institution resembled that of a haunted castle on the side of a creepy cliff, perhaps from some sort of fairy-tale. Veronica was still unconscious at the time to be able to see such a view, she more than likely would have made some sarcastic remark. Instead, two staff members in white came to collect her with a gurney. Strapped down while paperwork and whispers were shared, signatures here, and initials there just before she was taken inside and into the medical bay. Transaction complete.

"Fvck..." she whispered aloud. All was dark now, quiet... a deafening, almost uncomfortable silence. Where was she, and what happened to her? Veronica couldn't remember how she ended up at this place, where is this place? Her bloodshot hues slowly crept open and she tried to focus, her sight was blurry and all was black. She tried to see even the slightest bit of light. In any direction, there was none. It was maddening, seeing nothing but darkness and unaware of your surroundings. Was someone there with her, was she in danger?

Not to mention, her head was pounding like a tribal drum. Thumping angrily to no sight and no sound; rising from laying on the floor, she started to shuffle her bare feet upon the cold tile. She could feel grout lines with her toes as her feet explored, it was strange how in tune her other senses were when others were taken away. The beaten and battered girl was nude, extremely dirty, and teeth-chattering cold. Not having the slightest clue as to what was going on. A million questions streamed through her mind. Was this some sex trafficking thing? Had she been kidnapped for a red room again? What was going on? She made a ton of assumptions, and all she could recall was her being taken into custody and thrown into the back of a police van. All else in between was lost and it was irritating to her that she couldn't remember, not at a time like this.

After slowly moving forward, she managed to smack right into what she acknowledged as a door. There was no handle on the inside that she could feel with her hands, only a little closed steel slot for a possible food tray to be passed through. "HELLO!" Veronica yelled loudly and began banging on the surface with closed fists. A few minutes passed, and one single fluorescent light flickered on overhead. Practically blinding the girl and making her crumble to her knees upon the floor. "A**holes!" She screamed; not caring whom she was screaming at. Her eyes stayed shut tightly for a few moments, adjusting to the change of pitch-black into crap white-ish lighting.

Once gaining full sight again, Veronica then realized, she was in the loony bin. Her amber lit hues bolted from left to right. Dull gray walls, no windows, one bed, one thin mattress, one fitted sheet, one wool cover, and one pillow. At least the walls weren't padded--no toilet; "F***in' perfect." She grumbled to herself as she leaned against the door with an instant shriek, her bareback touching the freezing surface. She crouched down and moved close to her bed and knelt, snatching the wool cover and wrapping it around herself.

"Might as well make yourself cozy my sweet." Said a male voice from the other side of the wall where her bed rested. Her head tilted, curiosity killed the cat and there she was approaching without fear. "Fvck off!" She replied aggressively; not in the mood for charming pricks at the moment. Why was he speaking to her anyway? She asked herself, rising from a kneeling position on the floor in front of her bed and beginning to pace. Slowly at first, just gathering her thoughts. Her wonderful, morbid, disturbing thoughts. Shaking one away swiftly to give room for the next one to invade.

Upon what seemed like her two hundredth circle in the middle of the room, she could feel the bottoms of her feet turning raw and came to a halt. She just stood there, staring into space for what seemed like hours until the door of the room began to make noises. This broke her attention and her optics zoomed straight to the door, she was frozen in place, nervous of the unknown on the other side. Someone was unlocking the door from the outside and there must have been multiple locks because it was taking a good amount of time. She waited patiently in place, her arms wrapped around her midsection, holding herself as she trembled. Finally, the door began to open and without any warning or hesitation, Veronica darted right for the opening of the door and dashed beyond two orderlies and what looked like a nun. She took off running as fast as her broken body could go, down a long hallway, lined with dangling lights that flickered from a short fuse. The determined patient ran down the first set of stairs she saw, but, waiting there at the bottom were seven very large men in white. Stopping midway down the stairs, Veronica scanned over the men, making eye contact with each one. Her hues dark, she was grimy, injured, bloody, and naked, and now, madness. She cackled quietly under her breath and had a sudden burst of energy and an undeniable belief that she was much stronger than she actually was. Then, without a care of what could happen to her, Veronica rushed towards the men, head down, ready to break through them like a bowling ball would the pins for a strike. But, it only took one elbow to the nose to put her out...

"Why, why me... it wasn't me you don't understand, you have to believe me, this is my life!" The distant and muffled yet heard words brought Veronica out of deep sleep. Her heavy eyelids crept open to the horrible lighting again. "No." She whined aloud, hoping it was all just another bad dream. "Uhhh... ow!" She cried out, her head was pounding again--worst headache ever; and this time her face was feeling it pretty badly. Sighing heavily, she gazed up at the ceiling, noticing the cracked standard white paint. Studying each line and turn in its surface, running off somewhere else inside her head. Just then, Veronica began to hear sobbing coming from the other side of the wall as she laid in her bed in pain. The cries were echoing from the same location the words that aroused her awake came from before. She rolled her eyes, smashing the side of her fist against the wall, making a loud bang. "Shut the fvck up you pvssy. Some of us are out of pampers, join us." She yelled out disrespectfully to the obvious male on the other side. "Fvck you, whore!" The man hollered back in return, bringing a slight smirk to her busted up pout.

Amusement.