The Moist Air, the Rotting Smell and Above All, the Extreme Darkness.

The first 200 words of this essay...

The moist air, the rotting smell and above all, the extreme darkness. This place was once a mental hospital. Not only a mental hospital, the most renowned and secure in the country. This prison type building was like a safe, once you were in; it was impossible to get out. As soon as you walk into it, the clean, antibiotic smell hits you like a brick wall. It never leaves you; it stays in your soul.

I used to work here. I was transferred from a pleasant surgery in London. It was small, quiet and you only got the odd freak. I liked it. Here though, here was totally different. Blood baths were daily occurrences. All of the patients had to wear straight jackets and had steel magnetic boots on that allowed us to monitor where they were in the prison. The noise these boots made was unforgettable. All the time you could hear the loud "clunk, clunk" as the mass-murderers, suicide bombers and international terrorists struggled to lift their heavy feet.

You may ask why I have then come back to my nightmare? Why have I returned to the place that still haunts me today?