Annabelle opens her eyes and quickly grabs a pen and journal and immediately begins to write. She is required to go through psychoanalysis with a woman named Abigail. When therapy started, Annabelle was unresponsive, but any improvement was still considered progress. She would not speak to her therapist, but now she acknowledges her! Even though she mutters and stutters, this is a major feat. Her repressed emotions and memories were obvious indicators to Abigail that Annabelle had been through traumatic experiences.
It took Abigail several failed methods and intense tests to even get to this point with her patient. She knew she had to develop a form of communication that worked for Annabelle, or else she would quickly retreat back into her cocoon of silence. Too many questions overwhelmed her and a therapy session that was too long or too short would trigger many problems. Abigail decides to use a method that tends to produce results slowly and usually causes patients to relapse repeatedly, but when it is effective it produces incredible results in her patients' recovery process. Many therapists reject and even refute this method and negatively label it, Sisyphus.
Abigail told Annabelle that during her next visit she would have a pen and a journal just for her. The only requirement Is that Annabelle must write how she feels. She wakes up to a never-ending nightmare; thoughts of death constantly flood her mind and she feels paralyzed! It is as if fear is injected through an IV into Annabelle, but when she writes, it attaches to her pen instead, drinking the ink, rather than extracting all existence out of her! As soon as her eyes open, she writes; it is her Sisyphean plight.
Mercy slips out of Ramah's room when Wilton nods off. Curious, she quickly walks down to Room 211, looks around, and quietly peeks in the door. Annabelle is gone! How is this possible? Isabella notices a journal on the desk next to the lamp and opens it where the pen has marked a page.
These walls are paper thin
White-washed and fragile, closing in
They spin and rapidly move back and forth
Wind bursts through these windows and doors
These walls are paper thin
Voices fearfully scream on the other end
They spin and rapidly move back and forth
Wind bursts in and makes skin sting and cringe
These walls are paper thin
White-washed and fragile, closing in
Slaps and screams rapidly move back and forth
Rage bursts through windows and doors
Hollow fragile walls wait in ominous silence
for the next dreadful storm
Hollow fragile wall, you are my soul
like a fearful child surrounded by violence
Isabella cups her mouth with her hands and drops the journal on the floor! Whirring thoughts move through her mind! Childhood memories hit rewind. She sees blood painted into the floor! She sees a little girl slip into the hallway doing everything possible not to be seen. Why am I having these memories? Mercy holds in her scream; tears drip down her rosary beads and down her chest, and she sees a military vest.
Visions fire through her brain and make her feel insane! Annabelle steps off the elevator and passes the front desk, and the nurse asks her why she is not in therapy yet? She assures the nurse that she is going right back, but she forgot her journal.
Annabelle walks down the hall and notices an open door with two men, one has fallen asleep in a chair, and the other lie still on the bed, and his monitors beep in her head. She turns the doorknob to her room, and sees that her pen must have rolled out of her journal and off of the desk. She grabs her journal, bends down and picks up her pen, and she shuts her door again. Annabelle passes everything again but has an eerie feeling, almost like a premonition!
She darts onto the elevator to quickly get to her session before her thoughts become her obsession. She pushes the number eight and waits for the door to close. Mercy Isabella did everything possible not to make a sound! As soon as Annabelle closed the door, Isabella's knees hit the ground! She weeps uncontrollably and her beads hit the buttons on her shirt.
Mercy begins to remember so many things, like the dream she had about Annabelle darting over and snatching her rosary beads, and perpetually falling through the floor! She didn't just kidnap Annabelle, she is Annabelle! She thought she hid all of her secrets so well, but irony begins to unravel each one like beads falling off of a string...
TO BE CONTINUED!!!