Patient 103

Patient 103: The Worst of the Worst

            Daniel Fergusson had been locked up in Pembrooke Asylum for three months so far. He was patient number 102 and recently heard that a new patient was to be transferred today. Daniel was a big guy, good-looking, in shape, and a sociopath, who stabbed a few people. But the rumors were that he was the mildest of Pembrooke’s residents. The new guy was said to be the worst of them all. No one was as twisted, as dangerous, as evil as patient 103. When Daniel was reading a book in his room, the door had opened. Three asylum workers brought in a man strapped to a chair, restraining his entire body, and a mask over his face that could only fit a straw; preventing him from biting people. The workers positioned him in the room and promptly left, as if they were scared of him. Patient 103 simply stared at Daniel.

            “Hello Daniel.” He said amazingly calm.

            Daniel gulped and tried to speak, but he was frozen.

            “When you have killed as many people as I have you know fear. Why are you afraid, Daniel?”

            “I know what they use them mask for, creep. Youse a people eater. Why you gotta be paired up with me?”

            “You won’t have to worry about me Daniel, the scum and villainous thugs of this world taste poor. The higher quality person, the richer the taste is. You might as well be undercooked pork left in the desert for days.”

            Daniel went back to reading his book, but the way 103 looked at him made him uneasy. He positioned his book to block the view of 103 and kept reading. He lowered the book after a few moments and 103 was gone. The restraints were undone and he was nowhere to be seen. Daniel was screaming in pure fear and yelling, but the workers ignored him. He saw the protective mask fall from the ceiling and he slowly looked up. There was a light fixture that 103 was hanging from in the white room, and he jumped from it. The last thing Daniel saw was 103 leaping towards him with a maniacal smile and an appetite.

By: Braden Plagge

Directions?

My scariest Halloween nightmare is riding a horse, while the headless pumpkins man is chasing me. I would ride my horse into a wilderness area filled with spiders all over. The headless pumpkin man would also ride into the spider area and gets caught and tangled in the spider web. As he brakes loses, he is covered with spiders and has hairs of web all over. He continues to chases me. He finally caches up to me, grabs me by the arm and takes off his pumpkin head and says …….. “Finally! I just need directions to the Halloween party!”

Weekly Spark- October 24

Weekly Spark: "My worst Halloween Nightmare..."

Photo of Maui by Carson

photo by Carson of the beach in Maui

Weekly Spark

What you wish you had said....

Confessions of A New Girl

Confessions of A New Girl
By: Lindsey Beachboard

You often see so many books and TV shows about the “new girl” in school and how her life gets practically flipped around and turned into a big drama fest that will most likely produce a sequel novel or season. Like most things in today’s society, every aspect of social life is dramatized and romanticized to look more appealing to the people viewing so they can temporarily escape from their repetitive and mundane lives.

So when I transferred out of the local, public high school, I expected all hell to break loose. I imagined the world would suddenly come to an end and I would be sucked into a never ending spiral of drama, stress, and angst from both my new and former school. So far, this hasn’t happened. Once actually getting to my new school and settling in, it felt completely normal to me. No mass explosions, no evil teachers who have it out for me, no prissy popular girls coming up to torment me. It was just like that feeling you get when you start a new grade and get different classes; you don’t really know anybody (specifically) in the classes but there aren’t already pre-defined cliques or expectations of you.

Now don’t get me wrong, my old school Peninsula High was a great school, one of the top 100 high schools in the United States. I had a small group of friends there who I still love and hang out with, but they were the only reason I stayed at that school till the end of my sophomore year. It is a gigantic school, more than 3,000 kids in my graduating class, and I already knew a lot of those kids from elementary school and high school. With that being said, there were a lot of room to “accidentally” bump into people you have a bad history with. Lady Luck was obviously not favoring me since I wound up having many classes with people who had a negative impact on my life from earlier years. Couple that with struggling through some personal, family, and emotional problems it made a nasty combo of: “I’m super depressed and I hate my life and this school.” When things continued to go downhill we looked into alternative schools, and SHAZAM we found Fusion.

Now I’m sure I could go on a list all the great things about Fusion, but most of you probably know it since all of the advantages of this school compared to normal public school is pretty obvious once you take a little tour of the campus. However, Fusion is a small school, so social interaction is slightly limited. For someone like me who is a little hesitant about bringing new people into my life (due to past experiences) and being somewhat reserved, I find this to be a much more comfortable and intimate atmosphere.

When I my first day at Fusion began, needless to say I was nervous. I didn’t know anybody or how the school worked, or where to go to the bathroom, how to get signed out, etc. I often scuttled through the hallways trying to avoid excess conversation. But after a few weeks of adjusting, some people came up and invited me to go have lunch with them. This was last week, and so far I’m becoming fairly comfortable and talkative with them. The transition from public to private/alternative is a lot easier (and more natural) than I would have ever thought. I am becoming friendlier with my peers while still maintaining my old friendships back at home. Everything balances out pretty well here at Fusion once you get used to it. I think I’m going to like it here.

Porcelain Doll by Lindsey

Porcelain Doll

 

And another one is lost into the darkness that consumes the girls mind. Yet another pebble thrust into the vast waters that crash in her mind.
Another ripple is created.
It joins with another.
The seemingly small effects meld together, forming a symphony of screams that echo at the basin of her heart.
Her face cracks, clay shards tumble down as the tsunami crashes against the shoreline.
It devours everything it touches.
Nothing remains unscathed.
Her lips fall to the ground
Shattered
Clay floating atop the violent ocean.
There is no calm.
There is no break in the flow.
All is lost.
There is no peace that they all pray for.
It is all, what once was so well hidden, ruined in the wake of disaster.
But so is the life of a porcelain doll.

-Lindsey