Awesome Asylums

Teenagers are thrill seekers. Whatever they are advised not to do, they most likely will do, just to spite those who attempted to place invisible blockades to render their adventurous paths. Today, I relived my teenage days by disobeying a 'no trespassing' sign which was hung all around the outsides of abandoned and apparently haunted mental asylum buildings in a place I will not name in the event of a ghostly spirit reading this and learning my location. 

We parked in a bay graffitied with a message in white: 'park here and you die.' We did not obey because the possibility of this was not high, unless we were approached by Godzilla or a similar horrendous monstrosity of the sort. We stared around to determine our entrance points, and away we went, trying not to pay attention to onlookers who could report our trespassing. As I entered the buildings, some difficult, in that I had to crawl through a noisy blocked door to reach the entrance, and some rather simple, in that I simply walked in as though the spirits were awaiting my arrival, I wondered what exactly it was that brought me there. It was my eighth time there, however this was the only time that I had built up the courage to actually enter the buildings. 

I thought and thought, as I stared around at the eroded and vandalised walls. Was it the asbestos in the air that thrilled me? Or was it the possibility of getting in contact with a ghost? Perhaps it was the risk factor that I might get caught trespassing and receive a bad name forever. Maybe it was all of these factors mixed together. Either way, I was in an eerie place which had limited my breathing and increased my awe in the spiritual world. 

I felt comfort amidst the creepy quietness, because I was guaranteed an exit from each building as at least the second-last person, but never the last. I was content with this because with whatever could have happened, my slow self would have not been caught up in the potential tragedy or remake of a paranormal situation like those in movies such as Paranormal Activity or Insidious. I explored most rooms, attempting to imagine who or what used to be in each years before I was there. My imagination knows no bounds, which scared me even more than the fact that I was there. 

There was one building that we dared not enter, though. We peeked inside, and saw that every door there was intact because they were barred. Cast iron bars had held back patients which had needed solitary entrapment. These patients would have been the worst cases, and to feel the negative spiritual energy of these would have scarred us all for years. We simply walked back to the car and drove off. 

Our adventurous needs were for the day met. We enjoyed ourselves in a place which at one stage of its existence was the epitome of the total opposite of the feeling of enjoyment. We did not speak a word about this place in the car trip back home, and rightfully so. These places are purely for thrill seeking and sympathy. Those who do not respect them ought not be respected by possible spirits. 

I will continue to enjoy this type of thrill seeking despite the possible danger I might face. Thrills are adrenaline pumpers, and I prefer my mostly stable adrenaline levels to become unstable and heightened. For a life lived without adventure is a life not worth living.