Hello everyone. Thankfully, I was able to post this a lot sooner than I thought I would.
Unfortunately, things are starting to get incessantly worse for me. I will do my absolute best to post as regularly as I can, I want to catch you all up to my story as quickly as I can. So, please bear with me a little longer.
Just so I can manage to provide you with my story easily, I am going to try grouping each event into its own individual parts. Hopefully, this will make it easier for everyone to follow along with me, and also help me when putting it to paper.
So let us continue, then, shall we?
Part One: The Cherry Farm
Cherry Farm, also known as Hawksbury, is a very old mental institute located on the South Island that has been open for roughly 70 years. It was opened after the original mental hospital, Seacliff, closed. While it sits on a large amount of land, the land is mainly dedicated to farming and set up so it can remain somewhat self-sufficient. The farm is also used as a form of “rehabilitation” where they get the more sound-of-mind patients to work 10–12 hours a day, tending to the crops and livestock.
The main hospital building is only three stories high. The top two floors contain most of the hospital rooms, with the top floor mainly being reserved for those considered to be suffering from more severe mental illnesses. This is where I was held.
They put me into a small room with yellow stained walls. The stains were what I assumed to be from years of both patients and doctors smoking indoors. The windows didn’t open, so smoke had nothing else to do but stain the room. The ceiling was also stained, covered in the reminiscence of the cigarettes and what appeared to be brown stains from where leaks had been left to their own conclusion.
The room stank; a combination of stale smoke, flatulence, and body odour. The smell was so bad, I remember almost vomiting on my first time entering the room. However, the one thing in this entire room that truly terrified me was the hospital bed that I was due to spend my initial days in.
Each bed was partitioned with what looked like dark yellow shower curtains, separating the other patients and I from each other’s view. Attached to my bed was a pair of handcuffs and straps. All patients on the top floor were put in these restraints… no exceptions. Apparently, we were considered dangerous due to our visions and hallucinations.
I was verbally introduced to the two other patients with whom I was to spend my days in “care” with. While I never saw them, their voices added to the whispers I was constantly hearing throughout my day.
My first week at Cherry Farm was uneventful. As normal, I felt her gaze, and heard her voice. The only primary difference was that I now had the screams of the other patients in the hospital running through my mind as an added sense of torture.
After the staff noticed I hadn’t been sleeping, they started me on a dose of sedatives. Finally, I was able to rest. But it was also where… the nightmares started.
Part Two: The Nightmare
My first nightmare was by far the most memorable. It was a flashback of the crash, only more detailed than any I have ever had before.
I was me… well, the 5-year-old me, but instead of dozing off like I remember, I was wide awake, looking out the front window of the car.
My mother and father were talking amongst themselves in slight whispers.
“We need to get him away from her.” My mother whispered to him.
“I KNOW!” My father snapped at her quietly. “We’ve tried everything! Priests, monks, and even fucken shamans! Nothing has worked! She is still after him! “
My mother started to cry. “Why is this happening to him?” she sobbed.
Just as I was about to speak, I looked out the window, and directly in front of the car, I saw her. The Black-Haired Woman, with her sunken black eyes, her pale white skin, and her terrifying smile. Suddenly, I hear both of my parents’ screams; those terrifying, ear-piercing screams. My father turned the wheel trying to avoid her. The car hit the embankment, and suddenly it flipped. I was back upside down. I started crying, calling for my mother.
Looking around, I saw her again. We were face to face once more. I heard her whisper through her teeth, “The protection those souls gave you is finely wearing out. You will be mine soon.” She opened her mouth, her tongue stretched toward my face. I closed my eyes and screamed.
The second I opened my eyes again, I saw her at the end of my bed. I screamed so loud I felt it tearing at the back of my throat. The scream caused the others in my room to also start screaming. Suddenly, the curtain near my bed was pulled open, and three nurses rushed in. The two of them held me down, and the last one pushed a needle into my arm. I stared at her in a complete panic. The drugs started to settle in, and I slowly closed my eyes.
This wasn’t the only time I saw her. In fact, every time I was put to sleep, I would relive certain sections of my life, several flashbacks. She started showing up in every single one of my dreams after that. Always watching, always whispering, always smiling. Her toothy grin full of sharp teeth stretching across her face.
A couple of years later and, after an intense dream, I woke up in a hot sweat. As my eyes opened and adjusted to the light of the new day, I saw a woman sitting in a chair at the end of my bed. She was looking at me with beautiful soft blue eyes and a gentle smile. She radiated a warmth I had never seen before. And with the softest voice she said, “I am glad to see you are finally awake. My name is Susan, and I am here to help.”
Part Three: Susan
Susan was an extremely beautiful woman. She was about 21 years old, stood just shy of 5’9” and had long chestnut brown hair. Her eyes were the most beautiful I’d ever seen. They were a baby blue colour with a soft golden ring wrapping around the pupils. She had an adorable pixy nose. Her full lips were covered in a bright red lipstick that perfectly complimented her face. I was taken aback.
Concern took over her face. Softly she said. “Did you hear me?” There was a slight pause followed by, “I am here to help.” She softly smirked.
“Ah… I’m sorry… What did you say? “ I said as I snapped back into reality.
“I am Susan, and I am here to help you.” She replied, as gently as she had the first time.
Puzzled at her words, I replied, “Help me? I apologize if I sound rude with this question, but how do you intend to do that?”
“Well, I intend to help you with your current problems. Would you like to tell me about her?” she asked.
In shock, I spat, “About who?!”
She retorted with, “The woman I just heard you mumbling about in your sleep.”
I stared at her blankly, not completely sure how to respond. In the end, all I managed to utter was “What?”
“The woman… with black hair.” She whispered.
I looked at my hands, feeling embarrassed. “You heard that, did you?”
Her smile brightened. “Yes, I did, and I would like to have a discussion with you about her.”
After she finished speaking, her words hovered in the air. After a while, I was finally able to ask my first proper question. “Are you a doctor here?”
She smiled once more and said, “Yes.”
Part Four: Assistance
I spent the next couple of days talking to her about everything I was going through. I opened up to her a little bit more each day. It was truly refreshing to be able to actually speak with someone who listened to me. The best part is that with every single word that I said, I could see no judgment in her eyes. She took everything in without so much as an eyebrow raised. By the end of it, I truly felt a weight lifted from my shoulders.
During one of our sessions, she looked at me and gave me one of her beautiful grins, saying cheerfully. “I have something for you.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small box.
“Here you go.” She said as she put the box into my hands.
I looked up at her. “What is this?”
“Just open it,” she chirped.
I opened the box and inside I found two pairs of headphones along with two small devices that kind of looked like small mobile phones.
I looked up, and as her eyes met with mine, she started speaking. “I want you to wear these all day, every day. I synced them with each other and downloaded a frequency that I believe will help you stop hearing her whispering.”
I remember at this point, my eyes opening wide and my mouth dropping agape. “Ah-are you sure that I am allowed to have them in here… i-i-in this ward?” I managed to stutter out.
“About that, we are going to be moving you downstairs to your own room.” She paused to let it sink in for a second, then continued, “I believe you have made some real progress, and I do not deem you to be a danger to me or anyone else in this hospital. I truly do think that these items will help you find some kind of normal in your daily life.”
A tear rolled down my face and I managed to whimper out, “Thank you.”
Part Five: White Noise
After our meeting, I was escorted to the second level, where I was shown my new room.This room was so much different from the one I just came from. Everything looked and smelled brand new. The walls still had the smell of fresh paint, the carpet looked recently replaced, and the whole thing just seemed more welcoming. My favorite part was the bed. I was finally getting my freedom back. It was your normal hospital bed, but it had no restraints. I sat on my new bed, closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose, trying to soak in the fresh smells.
As I was just about to close my eyes and lie down, I heard the door to my room unlock and slowly swing open. A soft voice followed the movement, “Knock Knock… I’m coming in!” It was Susan.
I sprung up, my eyes flinging open, “Hello Susan. I am glad to see you.”
“Hello Adam, you can relax. I just thought I ought to bring you these.”
She reached into her pocket and pulled out the box containing the headphones and music devices. “Here you go.”
I reached out my hand and grabbed it. I pulled out one of the pairs of headphones with the attached device and placed them on my ears. With a deep breath, I turned them on and pressed play.
It was just as Susan said. The second I put on the headphones, I was unable to hear the whispering. Instead of whispering, all I heard was a slight static sound. The best way I can describe it is it sounded exactly like those white noise videos you can find on YouTube to help you focus.
As the silence hit me for the first time in years, I began to cry. I felt a hand rest on my shoulder.
“You will be OK now; it will be harder for her to reach you.” she said softly.
I don’t know why, but I rested my head on her shoulders and slowly fell asleep. For the first time since entering the hospital, I was able to sleep without a nightmare.
Once again, thank you all for taking the time to read this today. I need to finish this here and move on. But I will do my best to upload again… if I get a chance.
God bless you, all of you.
A.