Creative Writing: The Asylum

Finally, he arrived. As soon as he entered the building, he saw the “Out of Order” sign on the elevator. He raced up the stairs and made it into the room just in time.

I turned around and let out a sigh. I trudged back to the wall pressing my back against the wall staring into the eyes of the swarm of sea rats gnawing against the glass.

I scrambled to my feet, wiping the blurriness of the drugs from my eyes, and catching my balance on one of the metal poles that supported the floor above me-- the first floor, as I was in the basement, judging from the unfinished look of the place. I took a step towards the stairs and found myself on the floor again, courtesy of the metal cuffs connecting the support pole and my ankle.

Red light floods the room when the only exit opens. My heart stops, but I still stand up. I still stand up and march towards the guards here to escort me, and all the while I can feel my throat refusing to

I proceed past the desk and down a long narrow hallway. It was dark like a haunted house. I twirl my key in my hand.

I feel as if my stomach has turned inside out. The sun screams at me with its fiery heat blistering my fragile skin. So many regrets, this pain is unbearable. Starving to death in the safety of my box would’ve been better than enduring this torture. I’ve given up, my legs trembled and collapsed leaving me laid out in the dust without the strength to move.

Seeing as there was nowhere else to go, you shuffled over to the opening and frowned. It was dark and you could just barely make out a doorway to what was most likely another room. What really threw you off guard was how nicely the doorway was carved. An intricate pattern wove itself around the exit. Did that mean… someone else was here? At the thought of possibly being able to get out of here with the help of another person made you scurry over to the patterned doorway with little hesitation. The sleeves of your two-sizes-too-big sweater fell down to wrap loosely around your forearms when you reach over and grabbed the wall to peak around into the next area.

“Yeah okay, let’s go” after that we kept looking. No sign of anything we need, just a bunch of empty rooms. Until, we found an office I had a feeling that the cigars we’re here. We heard a strange noise.

“Come on” I walked to the storage room and opened the door. Jamal gave a creepy grin and looked at Tito. The room was smaller than a classroom and had old books in it. The storage room smelled of cigarettes used by older kids. It could lock from the inside and had a window to release smoke. Jamal locked the door.

Both the Hunger Games and The Road are two books set in a similar kind of condition of being poor, investigated selections of people confronting a trial of humankind, affected by human modernization and innovation and passionate power. We will investigate the diverse subjects and look at the rationale between the pages.

"Go check it out Tyler" Chuck said. I walked over to the door very slowly I reached out for the door and opened it. Nothing was in there but a bright green jacket and a backpack. Dillon opens the backpack and dropped it as soon as he opened it.

The concept of sexual objectification was introduced in the writing of German philosopher Immanuel Kant during the late 1700s. In one of his book Lectures on Ethics, Kant expressed that objectification derived from sexuality when exercised outside the context of monogamous marriage. Once a person is treated as an object for sexual pleasure, they become “an Object of appetite for another, all motives of moral relationship cease to function, a person becomes a thing and can be treated and used as such by everyone.” (Kant)

Joe slowly reached for the door handle. His hand was shaking uncontrollably as he did. Slowly he opened the door as to not alert anything that was down there . The aroma was even stronger. Blood stained the wooden steps leading to basement. The walls had scratches all up and down them. Some even contained what looked like human fingernails sticking out of them.They made their way further down the steps. When they reached the bottom a faint light was coming from a table in the center room. Exposed water pipes lined all the walls. Cobwebs were everywhere. Rats and other small rodents were running around on the blood stained floor. Disappearing and reappearing through little holes in the walls.

He wipes his nose with his sleeve and breathes in hardly and walks down the white wall corridor that was made brighter due to the lights that stretched the length of the corridor. His black oxfords echoed with every step he took. At the end of the corridor there's is a pair of sliding doors with a surveillance camera that guarded the door like a red-eyed

Tyrone replied casually “Nothing, I just don’t want to waste precious time that I can be putting into recording the horrors of this forest and the house “The group continues to move on until…… (Shuffles in the distance) Everyone stops dead in their tracks. “Did you hear that” Seara said fearfully. “Yeah’ said Andrew. A few moments pasted before the unpleasant, and disturbing noise came back. Everyone froze in terror.