W05W
Official Inmate
Posts: 101 
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Post by W05W on Jun 13, 2017 2:57:17 GMT
The girl carefully makes her way across the room and joins W03Z on the bed. As with all the girls in the Ophelia Gallery, she is very pretty. Her eyes light up when she sees my book and I smile, it is so nice to see another girl who enjoys reading. She introduces herself.
"Fitting, is it not?" I say, gesturing to the book. "I'm W05W, by the way." I reply to her question.
W03Z introduces herself as well, asking the girl how she came to this place.
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W11L
Official Inmate
Posts: 12
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Post by W11L on Jun 13, 2017 4:59:06 GMT
My lips quivered with sadness for a second, but I reminded myself this girls were like me, and had almost certainly suffered similar pains as I had.
"A pleasure to make your acquaintance" -I say to both of them. I doubt for a second and then I let it out-. "If you're asking how I ended up in this... institution, I suppose I am, in fact, a wayward girl. I... rejected one too many suitors, and when my father arranged a marriage for me anyway I..." -I choked up a little bit, but craked a smile nevertheless, feeling ridiculous- "I tried to leave this world for good. But I failed, and I ended up a beggar. Madame Mournington found me and very kindly brought me here to be a test subject for our dear Dr. Stockill" -I concluded.
A deep sigh escaped my lips, and my eyes wandered around the room, suddenly uncapable of looking at the girls directly in theirs. I had been taught to take shame in my attempt againts my own life. And I did.
"But if you're asking what brings me to the servant's quarters, I don't have the slightest idea. What is it that we're here to do? Did we earn somebody's favor? I mean, look around. This place is actually... nice."
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W03Z
Official Inmate
"I'm running with the wolves tonight." -Aurora
Posts: 130
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Post by W03Z on Jun 13, 2017 10:56:43 GMT
After listening to W11L's story, I sigh. So many girls have run into bad husbands, I myself am thankful to be raised in the forest, far from young suitors. So many girls are forced to take their lives as their only escape. Still, something always stops them from trying again in the Asylum...
"As far as I know," I say. "The 'servant's quarters', as you call them, are for the Ophelias. Ophelias are the pretty girls of the Asylum. They put us in cages in the morning and demonstrate us to the paying guests." I turn to look away from her, not wanting to see her reaction to my words. Being put on display in cages will always bring back painful memories, but so many Ophelias fear more than me - they fear their ex-husband may be in the crowd...
"Was it better?" I ask, and W11L gives me a look of confusion. "As a beggar, I mean. Was it easier than living with your husband?"
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W11L
Official Inmate
Posts: 12
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Post by W11L on Jun 13, 2017 12:45:28 GMT
When I finish my story, W03Z sighs and I can guess from her expression that she had heard stories similar to mine many, many times, as had I. Angering a man was all it took for one to be asigned a bed at the asylum, and apparently, unsatisfied husbands were specially prone to anger.
Then, W03Z explained the Ophelia Gallery to me. I started shaking visibly.
"No... It cannot be." -I whispered. I was going to be displayed in front of men for their amusement, like some animal, yet again.
But, foolish of me, it made perfect sense. "Ophelia" was the icon of the melancholiac and suicidal girl. How didn't I think of that before? I've read the wonderful play by Shakespeare, although I never imagined something I loved so much would ever be used against me. I dig my nails into my arms in order to stop the quaking.
"Ophelia, uh?" -I say with a sardonic smile- "I always identified more with Hamlet himself, except I adored my dead mother, and despised my father."
Then, W03Z asks me a question I had never been asked before.
"Oh, I never married." -I say, and I lift my chin very high, since I am prouder of this than I ever was of anything I did or wrote- "I told my father I would sooner die than marry his precious Mr. Jackson and I kept my word. At least I tried. After I survived, father took it upon himself to make my life a living hell and I started acting more and more strangely, just to cause him irritation. Finally I ran from home. If I hadn't done it before it was only because I feared leaving my little sister behind, but eventually the situation became unbearable for me. I promised myself I would come back for her, someday. I guess there's no use now, even in the claws of our father she is in a better position than me..." -after reflecting silently for a moment I finally answer her question- "But yes, it wasn't exactly easier. As a beggar I was filthy, cold and hungry all the time, but I was free. And that lifted my spirits like nothing else in a long, long time."
Finally, exhausted, I lay down on the bed, my eyes glossy with the tears I had been about to shed so many times during my story.
"How about you, ladies? Are you fugitive brides too?"
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W05W
Official Inmate
Posts: 101
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Post by W05W on Jun 13, 2017 13:12:40 GMT
W03Z gently explains the Ophelia gallery. I watch the poor girls expression change as she realizes what is happening. Like me, she is a lover of literature and suddenly she is being punished with the very thing she once enjoyed. She is trembling, so I set my book aside. Joining them in the bed I take her hand in my own.
W03Z asks of her husband, and she raises her head high, explaining that she has never married. She tells her story, so similar to mine. But she escaped her betrothed, I did not. Not until I was sent here.
She looks so tired now and lays down, her eyes wet with tears. Then she asks us if we too are fallen brides and I tell her my story: how I was sold to a husband many times my senior, how I used books to escape, and how I too had often thought of a way out. I pull up the hem of my shift, letting the moonlight fall on my legs, exposing the long raised lines.
"He wouldn't touch me when he thought I was menstruating, you see." I said gently. "He thought it disgusting."
I can see that W11L is still ashamed of her attempt on her own life, but I want her to know that many of us have seen our way out and tried to take it. There is no shame in freeing oneself from such suffering. "The Asylum is full of survivors." I whisper, brushing her hair back and wiping a tear from her pale cheek.
Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
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W11L
Official Inmate
Posts: 12
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Post by W11L on Jun 13, 2017 15:12:10 GMT
W05W takes my hand, to comfort me. She is so beautiful, on the inside as well as on the outside. I can already tell. After hearing her story I feel so close to her, as if we were sisters. Then, she exposes her scars, the ones that had saved her from her husband's brutal passions. I can't contain my tears anymore. I let them stream down my cheeks and, moved by her candid act of trust, I turn my arms and show her my own marks: white lines across my wrists.
"The Asylum is full of survivors" -she tells me, as to help me feel less ashamed of my actions.
"I... I later learned I did it wrong. I was suposed to slit down my arm, not..." -My voice cracks and I pause, closing my eyes hard, crying silently as I remember how deep I had cutted. Cuts as deep as my sorrows- "The worse part is, I am now SO AFRAID of knives and blood. And Dr. Lymer loves to see me squirm on his table. Oh! And Dr. Stockill too. Everyone in this damn place wants to see me bleed!" -W05W is now gently wiping my tears away, and I let her, not ashamed at all to let these two girls see my weakness.
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W02X
Official Inmate
Posts: 26
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Post by W02X on Jun 13, 2017 15:46:49 GMT
I lie on the floor, eyes open and quietly listening how the girls tell their stories and share sympathy.
I hear how W03Z explains what happened to them outside this room, at the Ophelia Gallery, and now I understand why I was left here. They are all so beautiful, fragile but lovely as flowers.
And then there is me, a girl with a boyish build, short hair, weathered face after months of labour at the docks... And I think I am the lucky one.
I don't move an inch, just listen, but when W11L mentions her little sister, I sit up and turn to look at them. I hope the shadows hide me, I didn't mean to eavesdrop...
Their stories are so different from mine, and they don't seem to belong here at all, unlike me. I sit quietly and wish I could take all their suffering and tears.
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W03Z
Official Inmate
"I'm running with the wolves tonight." -Aurora
Posts: 130
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Post by W03Z on Jun 14, 2017 0:31:42 GMT
Answering my question, W11L says her life was free and, at times, beautiful on the street. She begins to cry, and I feel sorry for upsetting her, but am happy that she now feels free to let the well overdue tears fall. W05W, bless her soul, begins to comfort W11L, and I marvel again at the sisterhood displayed in the Asylum.
W11L asks if we are fallen brides, and I chuckle softly. "Oh, no. I lived so far in the woods, I never saw a human man for at least the first thirteen years in my life. Now, I believe no man would ever want me. Even the zoo patrons seemed to think touching me was an act of bestiality." I pause. "I suppose I should be thankful for that. I could never love a man - or woman, for that matter - who doesn't have the wild spirit in their heart."
W05W tells her story as well, finishing it with, "The Asylum is full of survivors." I smile, gently. Yes, the girls I see before me are stronger than any I have ever met, stronger even than my former Alpha. They have survived the worst of the worst, and now we sit on real beds in a respectable room. How far we have come! It almost makes me wonder whether this is permanent or not...
I notice some movement on the floor, and my head snaps toward it. Old habit from the wild, I am used to reacting to the smallest movements. I see by the light of the moon W02X sitting up, however she looks a bit nervous, as though she doesn't want to be seen. I say nothing: She can join the conversation if she so wishes, but I will not draw attention to her if that is not what she desires.
Thinking I should lighten the mood, I jump down from the bed and examine a nearby bookshelf. I naturally have no way of knowing if the books are classics or not, but I grab one that looks old and sounds interesting. I am about to take the book in my mouth, but then I remember to carry it in my hands back to the bed. I drop it in front of the girls, and lay my head on W11L's lap. "Call of the Wild." I say. "It sounds interesting, but I don't recognize many of the words. What is it about?"
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W05W
Official Inmate
Posts: 101
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Post by W05W on Jun 14, 2017 4:15:05 GMT
I pick up the book that W03Z has dropped before me, smiling. "How fitting," I say, "It is about a dog, who is taken from his home and forced to work for cruel men. He is strong and survives many horrible encounters with men and other animals, all the while feeling pulled to the wilderness. He becomes the leader of a pack of wolves in the end."
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W11L
Official Inmate
Posts: 12
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Post by W11L on Jun 14, 2017 14:35:50 GMT
I can't believe my ears. W03Z seems to be talking about "feral children", the ones I had only ever read about in books and the occasional sensationalist newspaper article. She even mentions a zoo, and that she had been completely isolated until the age of thirteen. I was transfixed, my mouth droped open, but before I could say anything W03Z went to the bookshelf (I was still glad we had luxuries such as bookshelfs), picked up a book and put it in my lap. I looked at it curiously and before I had time to confess I hadn't read it, W05W took it in her hands and explained what it has about. "Call of the Wild", the story of a dog enslaved by men. It could have easily been a metaphor for our imprisonment, but after what W03Z had just explained to me it seemed like much more than that.
"Fitting, you say?" -I ask- "So is it true? W03Z, were you raised in the wild by... animals?"
My eyes were sparkling with wonder. If this was true, it meant I had encountered a fantastical being, an extraordinary creature fit for a fairy tail. It was like having one of the charaters of my books there, in the flesh. I had forgotten all about my father, the blood, the doctors, everything else.
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W03Z
Official Inmate
"I'm running with the wolves tonight." -Aurora
Posts: 130
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Post by W03Z on Jun 14, 2017 20:46:17 GMT
"That sounds like a wonderful book," I murmur, smiling at W05W. I nuzzle her shoulder with my head, a sign of high appreciation from any wolf.
All at once, a sense of wonder seems to sparkle across W11L's eyes, as though she just put together the pieces of a grand puzzle. She asks me if I was raised in the wild by animals.
"Not just any animals," I say, my voice shining with pride. "But the mighty wolves in the deepest, darkest parts of London's pine forests. I lived in the wild until age sixteen, but saw my first man at age thirteen on a hunting trip." I shake my head in distaste. "My mother-wolf, Morning Glory, commanded me to stay away from them, but I saw them kill a deer in the most unnatural and unceremonious way. They killed it with a...stick. That made a 'boom' sound when they pulled a trigger. I've never seen anything like it, not even on the Chasers!"
Some girls are envious when they hear I spent my entire childhood apart from men, but that one moment seemed to engrave a lifetime of hatred. How could men kill in such a way? For sport, especially, not even for food! They never used the entire body, nor did they look into the eyes of their prey and give thanks to the creature's life sacrifice for the sake of their survival. No, if there's one thing the Asylum has taught me, it's that a man's only joy comes from hurting the weak, the innocent, the defenseless...
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W11L
Official Inmate
Posts: 12
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Post by W11L on Jun 15, 2017 5:02:19 GMT
I gasped in astonishment. W03Z was, in fact, a feral girl. I felt truly privileged; any writer or scientist would have killed for an opportunity like this, but I wasn't there doing research for a book. She was my fellow inmate, my sister, and so I wasn't going to overwhelm her with questions or a long interview.
"God. I used to write about wonderful creatures such as you all the time on my books." -I continue to look at her with a smile of adoration- "Although, sometimes, my editor would make me change the story a little bit, to abide for normalcy. Well, it is true that men can be savage and wicked. Most of us here have the scars to prove it. But I can see they haven't break you. Oh, and your mother had the most beautiful name! I shall call you W03Z no more." -I say in a happy, playful tone- "You're a wolf, the Asylum Wolf".
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W05W
Official Inmate
Posts: 101
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Post by W05W on Jun 15, 2017 5:09:42 GMT
I smile as W03Z nuzzles my shoulder, and I run my hand over her wild hair. Then she turns to W11L and tells her story. I admit I am happy to hear it again, too. She really is a girl from a fairytale. W11L is positively mesmerized, she listens with awe as W03Z finishes her story, then proclaims her the Asylum Wolf. I nod in agreement. W03Z is a wolf, fierce and wild. I know in my heart that even here she will never be broken, she is too strong for that.
I hear a crow caw outside the window and I can see that the moon is nearly set. In a few short hours the sun will come, and we will become Ophelias once again. For now I lean back and enjoy the company of these sweet, beautiful girls. Whatever the morning brings we will face it together.
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W03Z
Official Inmate
"I'm running with the wolves tonight." -Aurora
Posts: 130
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Post by W03Z on Jun 15, 2017 11:26:29 GMT
W11L listens with awe as I tell my story, and I am grateful for her interest. Only if humans can sympathize with wolves will wolves be protected. She then declares me the 'Asylum Wolf', and I smile, my tongue lolling. The name is fitting. I belong in the wild with the wolves, but in my heart I know I could never leave these girls behind.
As the sun begins to pear over the horizon, I hear voices outside the door. "Wake them early," hisses a low, rumbling voice. Dr. Stockill? "They need to be trained as proper Ophelias."
"As you wish, sir!" says a voice, and I am taken back by how...exuberant it sounds. Almost chipper. Is that our 'trainer'? What would such a perky man be doing in our establishment?
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W11L
Official Inmate
Posts: 12
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Post by W11L on Jun 16, 2017 5:37:48 GMT
Before I realized it, the morning had come, without giving me any time to sleep or rest. However, I was very happy to have spent the morning talking with such dear friends, the first true friends I had made since committed to the Asylum.
Then, a pair of voices were heard outside. The inflexion of both tones could not have been more different. One slow and deliberate (evidently it was Dr. Stockill himself) and the other one overtly sweet and vaporous. Suddenly, the door swang open with a creak and in came the most extravagant man I had ever seen. Wearing a garish combination of colors, all clashing with each other, and what seemed to be a very old wig, the man presented himself as our "performance trainer", charged with instructing us as to how to play Ophelia correctly. He nearly tripped with a boyish looking girl who had been sleeping on the floor, but she moved swiftly out of his way. Dr. Stockill stayed at the door, looking at the men with annoyance, apparently as disturbed as we all were by this men's flamboyant manners and loud voice.
"I heard wonderful things about some of you girl's performance of yesterday." -he chirped- "Quoting Ophelia´s words was a brilliant idea, and I want all of you to do it again, today."
I didn't have a doubt in my mind who was the only one that could've quoted Shakespeare's play. I gave W05W a look of complicity.
The trainer then took a small sack from a chaser's hands and produced a bundle of foliage from the inside while reciting:
"There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; pray,
love, remember: and there is pansies. that's for thoughts.
There's fennel for you, and columbines: there's rue
for you; and here's some for me: we may call it
herb-grace o' Sundays: O you must wear your rue with
a difference. There's a daisy: I would give you
some violets, but they withered all when my father
died: they say he made a good end"
He distributed the flowers amongst the girls and instructed us to give these to the customers who approached our cages.
"Ou, and don't forget to fall from the swings! You hardly used the swings yesterday, or so I'm told."
I recieve my bundle and I stare at it for a long moment. Only recently had women been allowed to play roles in plays, and I celebrated it, but being ordered to perform for this ill fantasy did not give me any joy.
Dr. Stockill interrupted the man as he was giving us an overacted demonstration as to how to properly pretend to be fainting.
"That's quite enough." -the doctor said, with a voice that admitted no protest- "Just give them their clean shifts and be done with it".
Our superintendent left and, with a ridiculously large and cloying smile, the trainer indicated the chasers to come in and give us our Ophelia costumes. They did, throwing the garments at us without any care. I catched mine in the air and pressed it against my nose. It was soft and it smelled like jasmine.
Next, the maids entered the room with plates full of tea cups of bitter, hot, black tea and some stale loaves of bread. Although I was ashamed to show such weakness, my eyes shone with hunger. For a moment I had forgotten all about my moral dilemmas about this Ophelia Gallery show, I was just happy to smell tea again.
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