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Voices

By weirdonpurpose, Georgetown, TX

Did they think, even for a moment, they could escape? The horrors that haunt them here are no different than those that follow them out there. On the outside. Its all in their heads. The flames, the screams, the pretty little voices that tell them to do very bad things on impulse, and they listen to their own personal hell, thinking it’s contained within the stone walls. They think that if they could get away, it would stop.

I get up, signaling for the guards and doctor to follow. We begin to take the long walk down the length of the corridor. Moans echo from several cells. The sound of singing in drifts out of another. They I pass, I will be back for them some other day. But right now is what commands my attention. A child. No more that fifteen years, is huddled in a corner flinching away from the light.

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