She stopped screaming for a brief moment.

The voices in her head are whispering.

Some are born with darkness inside their soul.

Some can channel the dead.

She lays trashing wildly in her bed.

Does she dream?

She screams with such torment and fear.

She's been wrongly labeled crazy.

Locked in a little padded room.

The small girl engulfed in the looming shadows.

What horrors are behind her blood curdling screams?

No one knows what she has seen.

It's the whispers she mostly dreads.

They inhabit her head relentlessly.

She succumbs to the spirits of the dead.

They forever whisper to her.

Always the icy chill of them near.

Visions of their tragic deaths.

They softly repeat their tales of despair.

Odd things occurred and only she has the ability to unlock the mysteries of their deaths.

Only she can see the shadows of spirits longing to be set free.

She told her family and doctors "they whisper to me."

Tragically they labeled her crazy.

Now the poor child sits alone in a tiny room.

The spirits surround her, all whispering at once.

No peace for her little head.

Only the whispers of the dead.

People rarely come, just to administer pills.

Medication she is forced to take against her will.

Pills clutched in her limp little hand.

She lays silently, eyes wide open and dazed.

pale and unnaturally white.

Ice cold to touch, blue tinge to her lips.

The spirits finally quiet, no longer in her head.

Poor child, nearly dead.

The spirits hovering so very near.

Whispering amongst themselves, soon she will be one of us.

Her spirit to be forever trapped here, unable to move on.

Her parents not realizing she is nearly gone.

Murdered by the doctors paid to make her well.

Poor little lost soul.

Completely misunderstood.

Still labeled crazy.

Now she is gone.

Trapped with the spirits that cant move on.

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