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// Chapter I: A Day in the Life 
// Story: The Sane and the Lost 
// by Sky Blue CMC 
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          They say that doing the same thing over and over again is true madness, nothing is changing and nothing is happening. Well whoever said that was right, I wake up to the same walls. The same dark feeling every morning, the cold pit of despair that I am just another madman in this Celestia forsaken prison. Bells of Clarity Asylum. The name alone should make people not as insane, but that's not the case.

The cold stone walls, the eerie way the light cascades through the windows, and the staff that does everything they can to try and make people sane again, they try and try and nothing seems to work for them. A hopeless fight. They risk their time and their money on something more than they understand. The blind lead the blind I suppose.

My eyes strained and blurred as I forced them open. The same ceiling, the same rock hard bed, and the same darkness. This place is never very pleasant, even for as long I was there for. I sat up in my bed and rubbed my eyes with my hands, wiping away the dreariness of sleep and rest. I stretched out my back and arms. The night was not well with me, the same unexplainable nightmares.

I ran my hand through my unwashed fiery orange red hair, thinking over what they could possibly mean. I muttered to myself, "Nothing good, I suppose."

I sighed heavily after a few minutes of sitting there trying to decipher the message behind the nightmares. They all seemed incohesive and unrelated from one another. Perhaps I’m just overthinking this, maybe this place has finally taken its toll on me.

I looked around the room and the same feelings that I had when I was younger were still there. The walls were bare and untouched from the hands of time, the same faded yellow painted walls and the fancy chandeliers. The hardwood floor creaked under my footfalls as I sat up at the edge of my bed.

There were secrets within this mental hospital. I know them. I see how each one of the staff look at us, they see us all as lab rats for their sick and twisted experiments. Trying desperately to understand why we are what we are. Would anyone listen to me if they cared? Would they believe me? Or would they believe that I too am a madman? The latter is true, I live within the confounds of hell on earth. Bells of Clarity indeed. The only one that would believe me is my sister, Clara. We are the famous Harken twins, born in this place and remained here ever since. Born to live within the ranks of the insane.

I stood up and stood in front of my window and looked out into the scene outside the asylum. My senses took in the sweet smell of the brisk autumn air, breathing it deep in my lungs. It did nothing to cheer me up or make me feel any less than I am, it was just pleasant. I know that just beyond that window is a world filled with freedom. Just within my reach, but I can’t leave without my sister. The sight was all too familiar anyways, the same dense dark forest of the Everfree.

I turned my head and saw my door open. Coming in was one of the nurses, Fluttershy. The kindest and one of the youngest amongst the staff. She wore the standard bleach white uniform of the nurses there and her light pink hair cascaded down past her shoulders. She always had a sympathetic look on her face and her eyes were always filled with sadness. It’s a mystery as to why someone like her would be working at a place like this. She said in a soft and lilting voice, “Breakfast is ready Mr. Harkens.”

With my arms crossed I said, “Thank you. I’ll be along shortly and don’t call me Mr. Harkens.”

My voice trailed off. That was my father and my memories of him were fewer and far between, that didn’t mean I could use what he went by. Of all the things that make me feel like this, it was my family. I took in a deep breath and followed Fluttershy out into the hallway. The same wallpaper as my room and the same hardwood floor, it just opened up wider. The ceiling was higher and the chandeliers swayed lightly from side to side. Fluttershy lightly knocked on another door and emerging from the room was one of the asylums newcomers. Her name was Pinkamena Diane Pie, I think. She did not look like the usual patients at Bells of Clarity, she did not look like she was crazy or staring off into nowhere she just looked. Lonely. Depressive and said. Her hair was straight and did not look showered, her eyes laid low and she tried not to look at anyone.

I stopped looking at her once another joined and it was my twin sister Clara. She had the same colored hair as me and her bright blue eyes saw me and I felt my mood brighten slightly. She walked up to me and gave me a warm hug and said, “Morning Sylus.”

I held the ghost of a smile and said returning the gesture of affection, “Good morning Clara.”

“How’d you sleep?” She asked as we proceeded to the cafeteria. I scratched the back of my neck as I tried to find an answer to the question. There were no words I could use or statements for that matter to describe what my nightmares were. Finally I said, “Not well.”

She simply nodded and said, “Nightmares again huh? You should talk to one of the doctors about that.”

I felt my fury rise just at saying the words. I calmed myself as we rounded a corner and started going down the stairs, I said, “You mean the ones who think they can play the laws of nature with their experiments?”

Clara’s expression sunk and she said, “You shouldn’t joke about that Sylus. And no, these doctors are here to help.”

‘You’ll know I’m right when they have a scalpel in one hand and your lungs in another.’ That’s what I wanted to say but I didn’t want to further kill the mood or further the argument even more. So I kept to myself and we proceeded into the mess hall. The floors were a dark grey color and they all were tiles. I scanned the room and found the familiar faces of the fellow “patients”, and I use that word lightly, of the asylum. These were a total of fifty faces in the mess hall, most were males and the rest females. Though these were not the full numbers of the asylum it was a large chunk of the inhabitants. Most were unfit to be around others, springing to mind Pinkamena. She is in on more than five accounts of murder and branded a sadist. I watched as she walked away and sat at her usual spot near the back. Pinkamena had only been here fourteen days and she fit in rather nicely with the rest of the crowd.

And so with no other words we went through the servery and got our breakfast. So starting another day in the life of a patient of an insane asylum.