All That I've Got

Frank's P.O.V.

The three of us waited in silence for about half an hour before the door opened, revealing a tired-looking Mr. Winters. He looked to his wife and smiled weakly.

"He made it, they told him that they'd have him talking in no time and they led him upstairs. he gave me a thumbs up before he followed that one woman," he said sighing, eyes red from some crying of his own.

Carys looked up at him at the mentioning of his last few words, and it suprised me that her father met her eyes and knew what she wanted to ask.

"Yes, it was that Ms. Susan," he said with another weak smile.

"Well we're all tired, how about we go home for a bit Sam and come back later?" Mrs. Winters suggested, sensing how tired her husband was. He nodded without a fight and they both hugged Carys, waving a goodbye to me before leaving the room.

Carys sighed deeply after the sound of their footsteps had faded. It was now about 6 in the morning, still a bit early to be up, especially in the summer time.

"How're you holdin' up Car?" I asked with a smile as I turned to her.

She looked up at me with a weak smile, not objecting when I went to hug her.

"Jake's gonna be fine," I said softly into her ear as I gave her a squeeze, but in my head, I was still trying to convince myself of this. Jake had to be fine, I only hoped that he knew what he was doing.

The Belleville Institution For Mental Growth: Jake's P.O.V.

"Well, Mr. Laurens, this will be your room. I'll come to get you in a few hours, why don't you get settled in?" the woman asked with a polite smile as she opened the door, and to my happiness, there was only more white. In every inch of the newly revealed room, white.

I cautiously stepped inside, looking around to see the contents of my new room. There was an old and flat bed, a nightstand, and a barred window that wouldn't provide any kind of escape route in case I needed one. When she'd closed the door I'd realized the window would be more helpful than I thought, as there was no light switch and no lamps, only that beam of brightness. Luckily, I'd brought a flashlight along. I took the camera out of my pants pocket, turning it to night vision before snapping some pictures and carefully replacing it so that I wouldn't worry about losing it.

I took the time to explore my holding cell, starting out with the bed. I was suprised at how hard the mattress really was. It barely sunk under my weight when I sat down. The floor seemed more welcoming, and at least I wouldn't have to worry about that sticking springs into me at night. Sleeping on it would only give me back problems, and I needed to be fully alert in this place. I froze when two small words carved into the wall by the bed caught my attention, and my heart sank when my eyes had fully adjusted to the dim-lit room, enough to allow me to see them.

Carys Winters- 1 1/2 years

Upon close inspection I could see other names carved into the wall, the years that they'd been in this place carved next to their names. The longest was Amelia Raylond, fifteen years. Fifteen years in this room, fifteen years of being put through probably five times more of whatever Carys had went through. That showed strength, lots of it. So I was in the same room that my sister had recently occupied, and I hadn't even begun to see what she'd witnessed.

I went to lie back on the pillow, and felt something. I lifted it up to see a small pocketknife, the blade too dull to cut through skin deeply, but sharp enough to carve into something. I had a hint that this was the knife used to carve all those names, and it was old. I hesitated before taking it in my hand, finding a small space under Carys' name and getting to work.

Brandon Laurens (Jacob Winters- brother)

I'd written my real name smaller on purpose so that if any nurses had decided to be sneaky, they wouldn't be able to read it without a flashlight. The beam of light didn't completely make it to the bed, so there was no light to give the wall's hidden secrets away. The earlier occupents of this room had probably thought of that.

The door opened about two hours later, that same nurse standing there with the friendly smile on her face.

"Dr. Andrews wants to see you Mr. Laurens," she said, waiting. I'd been lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling, so I hadn't heard her at first. I quickly scuttled over to her, following her down the long hallway and stopping when we reached a door marked 'Therapy'. She opened the door quickly and gave me a slight shove, closing the door behind me and walking away.

"Hello Mr. Laurens, I'm Dr. Andrews," a middle aged man said with a warm smile, though I didn't trust it. I sat down in the chair across from his desk, staring off into space as he began speaking. So far this was the only room that wasn't painted white. It was a powder blue, but the smallest color change was gladly appreciated by my eyes.

"Well, it's our job here to make sure that you get over any physical or mental disabilities that you may have. You'll be seeing me every Friday so I can report your progress, and I think we'll become really good friends. Don't hestiate to let me know if you're not enjoying your stay," he said with that same smile.

I didn't realize how quickly he could turn on you until I smirked at his last sentence. That had made him mad.

"Listen you little punk, you're not getting out of here unless you cooperate. You may never get out. Lots of people die here, and we won't hesitate to make you one of them," he snarled as he grabbed me by the collar of my shirt, forcing me to look at him. I couldn't help myself, I spat in his face, only succeeding in making him angrier.

With a firm hold still on my shirt, he reached into his desk with his free hand, pulling out a needle full of a clear liquid. I didn't dare show the fear that was now overcoming me, but when he went to stick it into my arm, I did yank it away. He simply grabbed it again and held my arm down, injecting the needle and letting it's contents flow into my system. My eyes suddenly became heavy, and I soon fell into a deep sleep with his words being the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

"You definately won't last long here. Such a shame, you could've had so many possibilities."