Chapter 1
I t's been a little over two weeks here at Wellard Asylum, and I'm bored out of my fucking mind. I'm walking down the hall from my room, trying to find something to do or some chaos to create.
It’s evening time and dinner is already over, so until lights out we have a bit of free time. I pass several other patients milling around, trying to occupy their time before they make us go to our rooms.
The place reeks of mold, vomit, and the underlying stench of forgotten souls.
A few of the patients are talking to themselves, some just rocking back and forth, mumbling as they bang their heads against the drywall, but the majority of the halfway sane patients are in the common room, where most of our activities take place.
Heading to the main open common area, I see the small blonde nurse arguing with Jessie near the nurse’s station, trying to convince him to take his meds. I think her name is Kelsey…or Kerry…or maybe Keeley? I can’t be expected to learn every one of these motherfuckers' names here.
Anyway, Jessie is adamantly refusing to take his meds, while she currently has him blocked, cornering him against the wall, holding the little cup with his pills in one hand and a small clear cup of water in the other.
However, him refusing to take them is my fault though, because when I saw him earlier at dinner, I convinced him that the meds they are giving him are making him weak so that a pod person can take over his body in order to get inside his brain and find out all his secrets.
He’s a paranoid schizophrenic and has talked to me on a couple of occasions about aliens watching him and how the government is trying to invade his thoughts.
He’s in here for killing his sister because he said she wasn’t his sister.
She was a demon that took over her body and was trying to drag him to hell.
The fucker is really fun to talk to. It’s like reading Mad Libs without having to fill in the blanks. You never know what’s going to come out of his mouth next or if it will make a bit of sense. But it keeps you on your toes.
As I pass by them, he and I make eye contact.
Looking at him seriously, I mouth the words I told you .
The look of fear and anger that crosses his face is fucking comical.
He bellows loudly, shocking the little nurse as he throws his arms out, hitting her with all his strength.
He throws her, the meds, and the cup of water across the hallway.
She crumples to the floor as everything scatters across the floor.
She grabs the back of her head where it slammed against the wall as she winces.
Two large orderlies move quickly, subduing him while a different nurse injects him with a sedative.
The medication is quick and effective, making his eyes roll back in his head.
“You can’t use my brain,” he starts, but his words begin to slur. “I know ‘bout the bots and…the government…is full of…can’t have my body?—”
Before he can finish whatever he was going on about, he collapses, completely knocked out.
I laugh to myself as I continue walking.
These fuckers are so easy to manipulate.
Playing with the inmates like this keeps me entertained.
If I can’t fuck with them, I honestly don’t know what I would do to pass the time, which would make things really hard for the staff.
They would have a real problem. Because I need something to focus on.
Something to bring some fucking joy to my day while I’m stuck in here, biding my time until I figure a way to get out.
I need to get out.
Ethan is waiting for me.
And I know he’s worried about me.
The last time we saw each other was the day I tried to kill Vicky. As they were holding me down, he kept saying he was sorry.
I could hear it in his voice. He was so distraught that they were taking me.
Even if I couldn’t see his face, I know he wants to make it up to me.
Looking around the common area, I see a few of the other patients doing their own things.
Playing checkers, watching the boring ass painting show on the only television in the unit that they think keeps us calm, or staring out the windows or at the wall.
I will be honest, it’s not just the staff that I don’t keep track of.
I only remember a name if they are important.
Everyone else is an NPC to me.
Most everyone stays away. I’ve been told my resting bitch face scares everyone, along with my homicidal tendencies, as the nurses so eloquently put it.
Which I’m okay with. I’m not here to make friends.
I’m just passing through. Because as soon as I come up with my plan to get the fuck out of here, I will be gone and never look back.
This place is dreary as hell. And the staff is just as bad, if not worse, than the inmates.
Leaning against the far wall with my back to the room, I try to kill time, looking out the large bay window with my arms crossed in front of me.
“Hey, Toots. How’s it going?” Jackson says as he approaches me, looking over my shoulder at the commotion where they are dragging Jessie down one of the locked hallways. I follow his line of sight, then back over at him with a devious smile.
Jackson is my age standing a little over six feet tall with curly light brown hair, light brown eyes that border on golden with cheek bones, and a jaw that looks as if they were chiseled by the gods themselves.
His eyelashes are so long and dark that they look as if he’s wearing mascara. If he didn’t have all those tattoos or that deep ass voice, he could definitely be called pretty. He could probably be a model.
He was the first one to approach me here and my resting bitch face didn’t stop him. It was nice for a change. Plus, he’s fun to talk to.
“Oh you know…Jessie being Jessie,” I respond, making Jackson laugh.
“So…” he says, checking around us and lowering his voice so only I can hear him. “I helped Sean this afternoon, taking stuff to the laundry room.” I nod my head, listening and glancing around as well.
“What did you find out back there?”
We’ve both been trying to find a way out of here and promised each other we will go together.
“The back door of the laundry room needs a keycard to get out. While I was there loading stuff into the machines, that bitch Christina used hers to go out there for a smoke.”
The smile that lifts my lips does not reach my eyes. I’ve been waiting to see where her keycard would have access to. This is amazing news.
“When the door is open, can you see outside?”
He nods his head slowly, and a dark, savage smile lifts his lips. “And it looks like that leads down the main road with no obstructions.”
“Good. I say we do this tomorrow night. Be ready in your room after lights out. When I’m done getting the keycard from her, I will come get you.”
“How are you planning to get it from her?”
“Don’t worry about that. I got something just for her,” I say with a little laugh.
Jackson gives me a little shrug and a laugh just as his eyes lift over my shoulder and his entire demeanor changes. Now I’m curious who is approaching.
I can feel the asshole approach before I actually see him, because I can smell the heavy cologne that he always wears. The overwhelming aroma always makes me want to gag. I think he bathes in it before coming to work.
It reeks like a cheap knock-off of Sauvage by Dior, but the mix is way off. Which pisses me off because that used to be one of my favorite scents, and now I will forever associate it with this dickhead.
I think he’s also trying to cover up the smell of whiskey on his breath, which he is constantly drinking out of his coffee cup. I can smell it when he gets too close.
“The fuck does he want?” Jackson asks me.
“Who knows,” I reply. “Go on. I’ll find you in a bit.”
“You sure?” I nod, but Jackson just eyes me for a second before his attention starts to bounce between me and Andrew, the asshole now standing behind me.
“Yeah. I’m good.” Jackson nods and walks off, sitting on a nearby couch. I don’t want to put a target on his back as well, but I’m sure he’s just trying to look out for me.
Andrew here is an intake orderly who was one of the first ones I encountered here at Wellard. Not the only one, but one of the main ones I will be adding to my rapidly growing list of people I will be taking my anger out on once I’m out of here.
Because of my outburst in court, they felt I needed to be sedated immediately upon arrival and kept in seclusion for a few days in order to acclimate myself to my new residence.
And for that purpose, I was given an injection of something that made the room spin and tied down to a freezing cold metal table.
He was my main caretaker and watchdog, and felt the need to teach me a lesson about how things are done here.
From waterboarding to stripping me down, then fucking and beating me, he would switch it up every few hours and didn’t relent.
When he figured out I enjoyed the torture, he just amped everything up and tried finding new ways to make me scream.
That was until Dr. Graveheart intervened. He’s my psychiatrist, and I’m still not sure if his intervention was a good thing or not.
Andrew has left me alone since then, and I haven’t seen him since, so I thought that was over and done with, but I guess I was mistaken.
“Ready for our session, slut?” he breathes in my ear. “I’ve missed my time with you.” His hot, acidic breath fans over my cheek, making me turn my head slightly away from him. I can hear the smile in his voice.
”Fuck off, Andy,” I reply in a bored tone, not even glancing in his direction. Using the name I came to find he absolutely hates because I know it pisses him off. This just makes our interaction a little more fun. “I don’t have the patience to deal?—”