WELCOME

[daniel augusta stone]

MY FATHER TOOK ME INTO THE CITY
to see a marching band ... !

---

The silent echoes from the halls above made Daniel Augusta Stone look to his sides in pure suspicion. The cool chill that ran down his sides made him slightly smile. Sadly enough, he had gotten use to calling this hellhole home. The deaths, the fear that chilled all the doctors, nurses, and the poor volunteers brought nothing but a smile to his face. He loved being apart of the fear. Never knowing when he may attack was one of the greatest things about being rated high concern. Today, was different. He'd promised a few guards that he'd keep his hunger under control and told a few nurses that he'd give them something special for leaving him alone for a few hours. On that note, here he was. Sitting alone at a table furthest away from other patients.

The room was fairly empty but partially full. The few schitzo's who needed no attention whatsoever, the other high concern patients being watched like thieves in a convenient store. Augusta softly laughed at the thought. He had a plan upon arrival that he was going to .. lay back in the shadows. Never show the doctors, psychologists or nurses that he served a higher threat than anyone else. He was dangerous without a doubt. At least he posed himself that way in his mind.

Augusta left the thoughts in the sky where they fairly belonged. Looking at the food before him, his stomach cringed in a small pain. It was nothing like the diet he'd been putting himself on for the last past five years. Brains, forearms, legs and even sometimes a face or two (only beautiful women who rejected him lost their face in his digestion system). He smiled at the thought of making a sweet conversation with a few people and sneaking them outside to devour them. The memories were nothing but a faint voice in the back of his mind. He wanted to let that part of himself go but then .. he wanted to revive it in so many ways.

"Grab a patient and run for it. Make another person apart of you, make them realize life and why yours is the important one there is!" His anger grew within himself.

But it slowly began to fade. He had to control himself. He wanted to spend this time alone with nothing but his thoughts and the slop before him. Pulling at the sleeves of his white jacket. If he was delusional, he would jump on the table and reenact the roll of a crazy scientist discovering life within Frankenstein. He imagined himself yelling 'he's alive!' repeatedly as he blew bubbles into cup of milk placed in front of his slop.

Augusta was no delusional nut. He continued to pull at his sleeves until his thumb grew weary of the texture, slightly rough and very itchy. The hospital gown made it no better. He hated when he was outside of his room, permitted to wear things that made him feel outside of his norm.

Looking down at his poor attire, he made a sick face at the disadvantages of this place he managed to call home. "Terrible clothing."

[kyrie jade brooks]

HER MIND'S MIND UP, HER LOVE IS GONE *;

her mind's made up, the girl is gone.
AND SHE SAYS "DON'T YOU WISH YOU WERE DEAD LIKE ME?"

<sup>She lay in her bed, eyes closed with the ear buds to her iPod in her ear quietly playing Santa Monica: the song that quickly came to be introduced to the repeat button. She was still as a stone, the only indication of life in her was the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. She currently was passing back and forth from reality to the abyss of her mind that she had long since turned into her imaginary world. It was better than sitting there staring at her vanilla walls that she tried to decorate with paint pens, but to no avail.

Apparently the place didn't appreciate patients decorating his or her room. And the place didn't like its patients possessing paint pens, because her pens got taken up, too.

One honey colored eye fluttered open to stare at the ceiling for a moment before she lifted her upper body up to a sitting position. She tugged the cord to her ear buds and cut her iPod off, placing it carefully on her bedside table. Without hesitation she swung her legs over the side of her bed, gathered her "prison clothes" and hastily pulled the material over her bare legs and torso. She left her room and ignored the guards as she made her way to the dining area. She looked at the selection of food indifferently, quickly deciding she wasn't hungry, and in stead opted for a container of juice.

"Kyrie! Kyrie! Hey, Kyrie!"

The female looked up at the sound of her name to see one of the younger patients standing from his seat, waving frantically at her. With a quirked brow, she lifted one hand and waggled her fingers in return before searching out a place to sit.

Then her eyes landed on Augusta.

Kyrie moved toward his table and took a seat opposite of him, her immediate concentrations on her juice bottle, but still conscious of the male across from her. Once she got her juice open and took a long awaited sip, she looked directly into his eyes. "Augusta," she greeted with a ghost of a smile in her voice. "I hope you don't mind a little company," she told him, silently adding because I'm not moving. Every other place was either too close to those guards or too close to people who would annoy her to no end.</sup>