Writing Prompt: You Are Lost

It’s Friday again! 

This week, it’s short, inspired by a prompt. At first, I wasn’t really sure where the story was going to go, but as I wrote, it came more and more clearly to me the direction of the story. 

This story is dedicated to my grandparents. 

Prompt: You are lost


I open up my eyes. What woke me up? It’s dark outside, but light is coming from under the door. And a light is plugged in on the other wall.

I don’t recognize this place. My heart seizes up as I look around at the beige walls. The white, white — what are those called? Those things with the holes in them flutter by the window.

Where am I?

My breathing gets faster as recognition doesn’t come to me.

The carpet looks blue by the light. Blue carpet. White… things by the window. My eyes flit everywhere in the room. I’m lost. I’m completely lost.

I fling the covers off me and stumble out of bed. My body is stiff and doesn’t want to cooperate.

I yank the door open and it’s blinding outside my door. The floor is white and the walls are also beige. I squint and look up and down the hall, shielding my eyes with my hand.

“Marjorie?” A voice from behind. I turn to see a black woman in purple clothes. “Marjorie, are you okay?”

“Who are you? Where am I? How do you know my name?”

“Marjorie, I’m Shawnelle. I’m with you every night. You live here, remember?”

I look around. I don’t live here. I live at home with Darlene and Margaret and Arlene.

“Marjorie? Do you remember where you are?”

“I should be here. Darlene will be looking for me.”

Shawnelle smiles, but it’s a sad smile. Something inside my brain snaps.

“No!” I shout. “Darlene will be mad! I have to go! You can’t keep me here!”

“Marjorie, you’re okay. You are safe here.” Shawnelle touches my arm. I swing at her and scream.

Someone grabs me from behind and holds me tight. I can’t pull free.

“Marjorie, you’re going to have to calm down or we’ll need to get some medicine to help you calm down. What do you want to do?”


I look around again. The walls look familiar.

“Oak Manor,” I whisper.

Shawnelle smiles again. “Yes, sweetie. Oak Manor.”

“Shawnelle.” I recognize her now.

“Yes, ma’am. Are you ready to go back to bed? It’s three in the morning.”

“Yes, I’m ready to go back to bed.”

Shawnelle helps me into bed and then reads to me from one of her books. I don’t know which one it is. Something about Middle Earth and Hobbles. I’ve calmed down. I remember who I am and why I’m here. It’s getting worse isn’t it? They said it would.

Tears spill out my eyes.

I am lost and soon, I’ll never be found, will I?  


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