West Park Asylum

Ian jumps when he is abruptly aware that he is sitting in Dr. Rutherford’s office, the blonde sitting only a few feet in front of him. A glass of water is in his hand, half of it already gone and a small dribble still on the side of his face. The last thing he remembers is being in the forest with Dawn and Jeremy, but now it is midmorning. He masks a casual sniff of his armpit by violently sneezing and turning his head. The mild scent of soap and fabric softener hit his nose, telling him that he has been bathed. A chill runs up his spine while he rubs his stomach, a sharp pain in the spot where Dawn had injected the sedative.

“Are you feeling ill, Mr. Connors?” the doctor asks while shaking her leg. A yawn slips from her lips and she touches her face, the lack of makeup revealing dark circles beneath her eyes. “You have been distracted all morning. This is the second time you’ve asked me a question and zoned out when I answered. I understand that you have had some stressful moments recently, but I’m worried about you pushing yourself too much. Perhaps we should start giving you tranquilizers to help you sleep.”

“I’m sorry, but I had a rough night,” Ian replies, deciding to go along with the session. Rubbing his arms, he winces when he pushes on a barb that is stuck in his elbow. “What was the question? I’ll try to focus.”

“You wanted to know why nobody is concerned with the disappearance of Mr. Garrett and Jeremy,” she repeats before she seems to freeze for a second. As quickly as the strange pause appears, it vanishes and the doctor adjust her glasses. “Mr. Garrett has been cured and sent back to his family. His outburst was so severe that it broke him from his delusions. Honestly, I’ve never seen anything like it, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. On the other hand, Jeremy admitted to killing Jenny. For the safety of our residents and to bring closure to Ms. Cohl’s family, we have turned him over the authorities.”

Scratching his head until he draws some blood, Ian chuckles nervously. “I can believe your story about Rich, but the other one is ridiculous. How can a man, even one as big and strong as Jeremy, have the strength to driving something through a woman and a wall? Not to mention I have no idea what kind of weapon he could use. That is unless you have medieval lances or those large crossbow things you can find in old castles. Then again, we would have seen that get brought into the common room.”

“You would be surprised what a person can do on adrenaline and with a tether ball pole.”

“But the hole-”

“What it is that has you stressed, Mr. Connors?”

“Our sessions don’t last long enough for that list, Dr. Rutherford.”

“Call me Grace and give me the top three reasons.”

The door creaks open and Ian has a bad feeling that Gina is entering the room. He refuses to look directly at the orderly, who is carrying an armful of files. With the steady rain outside, the window is closed and gives him the perfect view of his sister. As if mocking him, the penguin necklace can be seen clearly in the glass and Gina never moves into a position that hides the pewter bauble. Ian notices that she repeatedly glances at him, her foot tapping on the floor like Carla would do when worried.

“Would you like to say something to Ms. Nash?” Dr. Rutherford asks when she is ready to continue their session. To stop the orderly from leaving, she catches the woman by the wrist and guides her to a chair. “I’ve heard a rumor that you think Ms. Nash is your sister, which is a ridiculous idea. We would never bring a family member here and nobody is able to get here without our permission. You came to use with anxiety, depression, using self-harm for relief, and suicidal thoughts. If delusions are appearing then I’m afraid we will have to change your medications and threat level.”

“But she is my sister!” Ian snaps while he turns around in the chair. A flicker of anger on the orderly’s face catches his attention, the spark swallowed by mild fear. “The necklace, her tapping foot, her face, and Nash is her married name. Do you either of you think I’m really going to fall for this? I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff since coming here and I’m willing to shrug it off. Dragging my family into this is where I draw the line. What’s next? Will you plaster pictures of my wife and son around my room? Do I get to see their ghosts every night? Maybe you’ll have me wake up to find them alive and all of this is a dream. That is until you decide to tear the illusion down and record my reactions. Is Raven’s Hold really a place to help people or are you simply having fun messing with damaged minds?”

“I assure you that I do nothing unethical here,” the flustered doctor says, her cheeks turning slightly red. Tapping her pen on the notebook, she puts more and more force into every strike until she slips. The point slips between the slit in her skirt and leaves an inky scratch along her skin. “The work we do here may be unique and untraditional, but it is serious. We only want you to become a better person and return to society. Ms. Nash may have similarities to your sister and you are filling in the rest of the delusion. You miss what little family you have left and the unfortunate incidents that you’ve seen here are making your condition worse.”

Leaping from his chair and hurling his unfinished drink at the window, Ian shudders with a blossoming rage. “How can I go from severe depression to hallucinations? That doesn’t make any sense. Nothing here makes any sense.”

“Calm down, Mr. Connors.”

“Are you going to stab me with another syringe or call in a guard with a stun gun? Maybe you can simply hit me in the head with a rock!”

“You’re agitated and confused, so please take a seat and listen.”

“Not with her in the room!” Ian erupts, jabbing his finger toward Gina. The hint of a smirk is on her wide-eyed face, which causes him to twitch. “Are you looking at her? There’s something going on here and it’s at my expense. This place isn’t right. Has anybody ever really left here?”

A rumbling in his stomach fills the awkward silence and gives the two women enough time to get out of the way. Ian lurches forward as the knots in his stomach cause him to vomit. He falls to his knees and shudders from the sudden release, his eyes blinking out of synch for several seconds. Dazed and unable to think straight, he tries to stand on wobbly legs and face the doctor who is calling for the janitor. As soon as he sees Gina, the pain in his gut returns and Ian collapses to dry heave. The puddle of drool beneath his face begins to swirl and twist into the form of a laughing jester. He punches at the warm liquid and tears at the carpet while tears flow from his bloodshot eyes. By the time the bearded man arrives with his cart, Ian is weakly slapping at the ground and barely aware of his surroundings.

“Take him back to his room,” Dr. Rutherford tells Gina, handing the orderly a stun gun. She shakes her head in dismay and gathers the files she needs for the rest of her sessions. “I will be finishing my work in my smaller office. Have two guards stay by Mr. Connors’s door and escort him to his meals. Until we know what has caused these changes, we need to keep him away from the other patients.”

“What do you think will happen to him?” the worried orderly asks as she gingerly helps Ian to his feet. The stench of vomit and drool causes her to wrinkle her nose and hold back her own nausea. “You always had him listed as an easy case. In fact, you wanted Mr. Connors here as a type of mental palate cleanser for yourself. If he’s become as bad as the others then it might not be right to keep him here.”

“If his time here is what caused his downward spiral then it would be wrong to send him away,” the doctor points out while carefully stepping around the janitor. She sighs when she watches the man start tearing up the carpeting. “I need a day to think about this since it’s never happened before. At least not to this extent. Perhaps it is not so much time for Mr. Connors to be labeled as a lost cause, but to do away with one of our long term residents. I’m afraid she’s gone too far this time.”