how much could our minds take until it became too much? irvine intended to find out.
the irvine asylum, brick walls so thick that our tortured screams could no longer be heard out into the outside world, the rough concrete floors that would scratch the skin beneath our feet, the little sunlight we got seeping through just the brick walls.
we have no memory of our life before the asylum. our oldest memories are playing together as children in the kitchen ( that we were forced to clean or else we no longer would be given dinner ). if we scrubbed out the blood stains from the hard cold ground, mrs. irvine would teach us another song from some corporation she called βdisneyβ.
at first, the asylum was strict β not cruel. if we yelled, mrs. irvine wouldnβt give us our daily four skittles after dinner. we braided each others hair carefully and did what we were told. the girls would clean, cook, do the house chores while the boys would be allowed into the foggy woods with mr. irvine, hunting and farming for the food.
if we failed to complete our chores, mrs. irvine would lock us in the chamber. the chamber was a cold brick area. technically, it was a room. we called it a box. there was barely any standing or laying room, mr. irvine had sealed the bricks cracks with silicone so no chance of getting sunlight, and we were starved for days. the water we used to survive was collected through the rain thatβd sink through the bricks.
then it all changed. we grew older.
before we had bunk beds in a room together, now we had separate βcellsβ as we liked to call them. the bricks made to build the walls were intentionally thin. not thin enough to break through after years of screaming and kicking but thin enough to hear the screams from when one of us would be βpunishedβ by mrs. irvine.
midnight was shower time. mrs. irvine would open the doors to our cells, we were too weak to even attempt attacking her. she kept weapons on her incase we even tried. when she was all finished, we had to find our way to the shower room. of course it was made of brick and mr. irvine had built a system that would simulate the rain. it broke down most of the time and only cold water could exit.
we had two minutes until the water was cut off. thirty seconds for our hair and a minute and thirty seconds for our bodies. it was dark enough to the point where we couldnβt even see each other, we were lucky to even hear over the pouring water and by the time the water was cut off we had thirty seconds to return back to our cells or mrs. irvine would βpunishβ us.
that was until one day. we all had found out that we were fifteen, that meant mrs. irvine was well over fourty. we noticed she had developed back problems. one thing we all learned as children was to use the chirping of birds to communicate with each other. two chirps was meant to get everybody to listen while two then a pause before the third meant we needed help.
during shower time we used morse code, another thing mrs. irvine insisted was mandatory to learn as children. we tapped on each otherβs skin, creating a plan together.
when midnight came the next day, we exited our cells before mrs. irvine could leave the hallway and used a loose brick from the kitchen to get her down to the ground. none of us could bring ourselves to β end β her. instead, we stole the keys to the front door and escaped.
finally, the outside world. the air seemed thinner, easier to breath. it was night time, we knew mrs. irvine had friends from different asylums that would help track us down. we needed to get as far as possible. but, how? we barely could speak, we had clothes way too small for us as mrs. irvine only sewed us new plain white shirt and pants at the start of every year and it was surely december by now.
we had to get away.
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hi, no forms required !! aside from this mini - form but i think itβll be more interesting to have your ocs genuinely find out each others personalityβs through the roleplay rather than us finding out and then planning everything. remember, these are traumatized teenagers, be even a little realistic please. every oc is required to have a curse, a small tattoo on their wrist representing the curse. please message me the curse privately!
this also does lack of symbols compared to my other roleplay just to set the mood of a dark, helpless, scared mind of all the ocs.
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name Χ π ποΈ 15 Χ π ποΈ gender Χ π ποΈ pronouns Χ π ποΈ shipping Χ π ποΈ sexuality Χ π ποΈ user
