He awoke to a blaze of artificial light. Where am I? Mike wondered. “Welcome to hell, kid,” spoke a gruff voice. Mike slowly sat up in his bed. His eyes slowly adjusted to the intense lighting. He was surrounded by four bleak concrete walls that were covered with messy scrawls. The only furniture in the room was two beds, a mirror, sink, and toilet. The source of the voice that Mike had heard earlier sat on the adjacent bed. He appeared to be a middle aged man with messy hair and fine stubble along his chin. “What is this place?” Mike asked, desperate for answers. “This is an institution for the mentally ill. You could call it a glorified insane asylum if you want,” the man said. “Why am I here?” Mike asked, “I’m not insane!” “Well, someone believes that you are,” the man said, “Even if you aren’t.” For a while, all was silent. Am I insane? Mike pondered. No. It can’t be. He tried to remember everything about himself. Everything that made him...normal. My name is Mike Parker. My birthday is September 18th and I am 17. I have a mom, a dad, and a brother at home. I live on 24 Main Street and attend Bayville High School. All of this reminiscing began to make Mike’s head hurt. He decided to shift his attention to the other man. There were so many things that Mike wanted to know from him. Perhaps this strange man can shed some light on my predicament. “Can I ask you a question?” Mike asked. “Sure. But before you start bombarding me with all of your questions, I have one request.” The man said. “What is that?” Mike asked suspiciously. “I want to know your name,” the man replied. “Oh. It’s Mike. What’s your name?” “Logan.” Rift, 9-10, 1 Rift, 9-10, 2 Although he didn’t know any Logans, the name seemed vaguely familiar to Mike. It’s probably nothing, Mike thought, There are tons of people named Logan in the world. “Okay Logan, so how long have you been here?” “As long as I can remember. I lost track a while ago.” Logan gestured at the wall. Mike realized that the messy scrawls were tally marks. There must’ve been at least a thousand of them. Damn, Mike thought, I hope that I won’t be stuck here for that long. Mike turned back to Logan to ask more questions but without warning, the lights turned off. Mike could only assume that it was night time since there were no clocks to be found in the cell. Still, Mike wasn’t done looking for answers yet. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow, he thought. Although he had just woken up a few hours ago, comprehending all of this new information had made Mike tired. He reluctantly got himself situated in bed and fell into a deep slumber. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- He found himself walking deep within the woods. The eerie clouds hung overhead, shrouding the moon. The air reeked of death. A sinister voice echoed from the perpetual darkness. “Do it!” the voice taunted him. “Get out of my head!” he screamed. He slashed at thin air out of frustration. “Good,” the voice said, “Release your inner anger!” His tormented mind felt like it was being ripped apart. Momentarily giving in to the temptation, he let go of everything. Clutching his head, he tried to regain control of himself. He took a deep breath and cleansed his mind. “It’s too late,” the voice said again, “Look what you’ve done.” He looked at his hands and gasped. They were covered in fresh blood. Mike suddenly woke up. His heart felt like it was about to burst out of his chest. Beads of sweat clung to his forehead. Thank goodness, Mike thought, It was only a dream. A muffled sound caught Mike’s attention. He looked across the cell to see Logan sobbing in his bed. It was the first time that Mike had actually seen a grown man cry. Mike wondered whether he should say something or stay quiet. “What’s wrong Logan?” Mike finally asked. “I’m a weary man, kid,” Logan sobbed, “I’ve spent too many years of my life locked up in here. I feel like I contemplate death every day now.” “C’mon, don’t say that,” Mike comforted, “You might get out of here someday.” “No! Don’t you get it? I’m never getting out of here! I’ll never be able to see my family or friends again! I have no future left!” Logan exclaimed. He took a deep breath. For a moment, all was silent. “Forgive me for my outburst. I hate that you have to see me like this.” Logan trembled. “It’s alright. Do you need someone to talk to?” Mike offered. “No, talking about it will just bring back more painful memories. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. Just go back to sleep.” Mike got back in his bed. Still, he couldn’t seem to fall asleep again. He wondered if he would ever get to see his family again. The next morning, something unusual happened. A door that Mike had never noticed slid open. A man wearing a suit entered the room. His eyes were concealed by a pair of jet black shades. He did not look like very friendly. “Mike, you have been summoned,” the man said, “Follow me.” Mike complied, knowing that the man probably wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Wait!” Mike said. A look of displeasure crossed the man’s face. Rift, 9-10, 3 “Don’t waste my time,” the man growled. Mike could just picture the man glowering at him through those impenetrable shades. “C-can my friend come along as well?” Mike stuttered. He gestured at Logan. “Umm...sure,” the man said. Mike noticed that the look of displeasure on the man’s face had turned into a look of confusion. Nonetheless, the man led them out of the cell and into a narrow corridor. “Where do you think he’s taking us?” Mike asked Logan. “Beats me,” Logan replied. No one uttered another word for the next few minutes. They walked for about five minutes. Finally, the man abruptly stopped at a door. He punched a code into a keypad on the wall. The metal door opened. They walked into a dimly lit room. There was a single chair on one side of the room. On the other side, there was a large oak table. “Stay in here,” the man instructed before stepping out of the room. Mike sat in the room, waiting. Ten minutes later, the man returned, accompanied by two more people. There was a man and a woman. They were both dressed in white lab coats. They both seemed like the conceited, arrogant type of people. They took their seats at the table. The man let out a sigh of obvious displeasure. Mike knew that he did not want to be here. After he got comfortable in his seat, the man in a lab coat spoke. “How are you doing today Mike?” he asked insincerely. “Fine,” Mike grumbled. If I could, I would rip your throat out right now you heartless bastard. “I’m sure you’re anxious to know why you’re here. I assure you that you’ll find out the answers to all of the questions that your small mind ponders.” The man said. By the way he was observing him, Mike knew that the man wanted him to say something back. Mike refused to grant him that. The man jotted something down on his clipboard. “Do you know the purpose of this...trial?” the man continued. “No.” Rift, 9-10, 4 “We are here today to determine whether you are insane or not,” the woman who accompanied the man intervened. “What? But I’m not ---” Mike was cut off by Logan. “Shhhh. Just answer their questions.” Logan said. “Fine,” Mike replied. “Do you know where you are right now?” the man droned. “Umm...I’m sitting in a room. In an asylum. Somewhere on planet Earth.” Mike replied sarcastically. This time, it was the woman who scribbled something on her clipboard. “Hmmmm. Do you have any recollection of past events prior to your arrival here?” “What kind of question is that? Of course I can remember...” Now that he thought about it, Mike couldn’t really recall anything that happened before. “You can’t remember anything?” the man asked. Mike didn’t reply. “Hmmmm.” The man jotted some more stuff down. The way the man and woman were studying Mike bothered him. To them, he was nothing more than another test subject. “So what if I can’t remember anything? Maybe I have amnesia or something! Still, I can assure you that I’m perfectly sane!” Mike burst out. Mike continued: “Logan, tell them that I’m perfectly sane,” Mike said. Logan remained silent. “Logan?” The man in the lab coat looked confused. Something that Mike said had caught his interest. “What did you call...him?” the man asked. “Logan. Why?” Mike asked. “Logan’s dead. In fact, he’s been dead for quite some time already. You of all people ought to know. After all, you were the one who killed him, Mike.” Suddenly, the world started to spin and Mike was trapped in a nightmare. Rift, 9-10, 5 Rift, 9-10, 6