Wrapping the intestines tightly around her throat, she jumped off of her bed and with her weight, it wrapped tighter and tighter, cutting off her airways and circulation. She couldn’t scream, she couldn’t make a sound. That's what happens and she knows all too well. She knew no one would be looking for her for hours to come and used that information to her advantage. Her brain goes fuzzy - how long has it been? Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Time came like waves crashing over her body as it went limp under the intestines. No one would look for her, no one would care. Other than Abigail. She loved Abigail like a sister.

        A loud ringing sound fills her ears as the organ snaps right when her consciousness fails to keep her awake. Screams fill her room as she cries out in pain and agony as the noose of her own slices through her neck. Crimson blood taints the floor, she screams. Not in pain, no. In disappointment. She failed, she failed, she failed. SHE’S STILL ALIVE. 

        No one walks into the room as she fades from the world. Blood doesn’t stop falling as her limp body breathes its last breaths. No one is there for her last words, tears falling from her face as she whispers, “I’m sorry Abigail. Please don’t leave me. I’m sorry for leaving you all alone here, stay sa-'' And then, she’s gone. Gone from the world yet not from people's memories before her mind is able to finish what she wanted to tell the world that broke her, the world that made her like this. Wishes dying with her body, wonders dying with her soul, thoughts dying with her imagination. She wasn’t in the room anymore but the blood stains never left the tiles, still seeping out of her dead frame. 

        No one heard her last words. No one cares for her last words. No one knows her last wish. No one cares for her last wish. No one knows she’s gone. Not for another day. Her dead body leaking blood as the world around her continues on as if nothing is to have happened. She is no longer there but no one could feel the aura of death lingering in the front of the ward. She would never be found out. She would be perfectly content. No one loves her. No one loves a screw up. Her soul smiles at the thought. Maybe she could find happiness with freedom.

        It wasn’t until five hours later when people started wondering where she was. It wasn’t until the next day people found her. Damian and Abigail both searched for the older lady when they opened her door to a horrifying scene. Their friend - not friend, their late friend, covered in blood, litres spilled on the tiled floor with a noose of human intestines around her throat, half torn but broken all the same, it was like a horror story, at least to the likes of a nine year old. Abigail sobs into Damian’s arms as he picks her up covering her eyes and rushing out to tell Aiden and Micheal, the doctors and nurses. 

        Aiden and Micheal quickly rush to comfort the little girl as Damian goes to tell the workers about Patient #498. Abigail, still sobbing, clings onto Micheal as they whisper sweet things to solace her from the traumatic memories she has created out of people. Tears streaming down Abigail’s face, she quickly buries her face in Micheal’s shoulder as he slowly strokes her hair. “The world is a scary place out there Abigail. You’ll be safe here and only here.” They never want her to leave, they want Abigail to stay with them. Forever and always. 

        The empty, quieter halls after #498’s death never felt quite the same, the world was different without the older female, they never knew why she left the world. She never told them about her struggles — never told anyone about why she was there. They thought it was because of a Bipolar Manic episode, not a suicide attempt. They never knew who she was before she became, “Patient Number 498”. They never knew her before she died internally. They never knew that she had wanted to die. 

- I wanna die too. Who am I? Who are you? Who is... who knows this? Am I hallucinating? But what did I do? No one deserves pain. Not me, not you. We all deserve love okay? -

        Abigail lost what she thought could be an older sister figure, left with three older boys — Aiden, Micheal and Damian to take care of her. She was left all alone. All alone in an empty world where she had no freedom, had no childhood to show. Yet she was wise. Wise yet beyond her years. While the young girl was still in the outside world, she was years advanced. Knowledge equal to the boys taking care of her, they treated her like she was older yet younger than she actually was. 

        Files open the day that the staff hear about Patient #498’s death. No, not patient #498 but the girl before, Angelica Chase, name revealed to the entire ward. Names hold power even to the departed, dead souls. Even to those whom it may not seem important to. Angelica’s family was informed and the body, similar to patient #517’s, was thrown into the hallway. Her death wasn’t in vain though, resulting in more routine, hourly checks into the patient’s quarters and limitations to where the patients placed there out of suicide attempts could go without surveillance. 

        She – Angelica Chase may have left the psyche ward but she never left the thoughts of the people she loved – the people that loved her. Angelica stayed as a memory and as a wall filled with dozens of bright neon pink sketches done by a little girl – Abigail. It wasn’t until months later that the group's story continued.