Second Place – Isabel A. (9-10th grade category)

Second Place – Isabel A. (9-10th grade category)

Nearly At The Edge – Isabel A.

Elisa felt as if she couldn’t breathe. As if there was a body on her chest. She rolled and fell

on a cold hard floor, and abruptly opened her eyes only to be staring face down at a white floor. She careful lifted herself and took in her surrounding of her white room in her white clothes. Only to realize that it was a dream. Another dream. She ran too to the only red door at the corner of her white room and banged on the door.

“Please listen to me?” Elisa screamed.


“I didn’t kill her, it wasn’t me…”

“It wasn’t me…”

But nobody came. They only watched and listened. She stayed trapped in her white room. Remembering how they had tricked her into admitting to the killing of her mother. How she stood in court and falsely pleaded to insanity. But she wasn’t. She never was.
Day and night. Night and day Elisa could still hear the screams. They haunted her, forcing her to relive the same day over and over again. Endless agony. The way her mom begged for mercy before the gun took her life. The fear that ran through her spine as she stood in terror. Unable to move, or even speak.
Elisa could hearing the familiar whispers that floated in her head. She didn’t want to believe she was crazy. She didn’t want to believe that she was finally losing it, that after many years of fighting an unwinnable battle, that she was close to the edge of her sanity. Elisa would always remember how the wind blew through the air that afternoon, the faint smell of pine that lifted through the air. She remembered how her mother had picked her poppy flowers just after they had bloomed, and tucked them in Elisa’s hair as if to say to treasure and always remember how delicate yet beautiful they were. Only within minutes had the hooded man threatened and shot her mother in cold blood, how only within minutes had she seen the hooded man briefly flash he’s dark hazel eyes, that so closely resembled her father’s eyes, at her before fleeing the scene.

Elisa remembered how she sat in the police station so young, so scared and so naive. How she had been so quick to believe everything they told her, yet how she told them nothing. How she had been passed down from therapist to a child psychologist and finally being thrown into a mental health care.

Elisa hadn’t realized that she was rebuilding her anger until she noticed the blood the dripped from her hands and the tears that spewed from her eyes. She barbarically grasped the door handle to the red door and pulled with every strength and anger in her body, she heaved and lunged at the door until the hinges came apart. Elisa was finally admitting to her insanity that yearned to be free. She was finally at the edge of her insanity.