doctor.

the sound of the metal door sliding open against the STONE floor is enough to bring    her out of her daydreaming state. she didn’t get much sleep last night. there were    too many new noises, and too much to think about. TIRED eyes look up to the well    dressed man in front of her and she pushes herself up from her cot to stand in front    of him.

        the more she thought about it, the more she noticed         how uneasy the doctor had made her. she shoots a         deceiving eye at him and speaks calmly.

                              “ lets do it. “

      slamming the door closed behind her was loud       enough and triggered several weary cries from        surrounding rooms, yet they were muted through       the thickest of cement walls. his steps were long       and slow, as he needed any extra minute of time       in order to explain the procedures to her.

 an exasperated laugh leaves her chest as the COLD metal of the cuffs encircle her  wrists. she’d meant that she didn’t need his hands on her while escorting her to her  CELL room, not to be left alone entirely. but it seems like it’s too late to correct them.

         “ really feelin’ the hospitality, doc. see ya ‘round. “

 as soon as she’s out of his eye line, the smile she’d had painted on turns into a  GRIMACE. she can feel a strong hand between her shoulder blades guiding her  towards a room that looks like it’s seen better days. if this place is trying to help  people find their “inner peace”, or whatever, then maybe they should rethink their COLOR SCHEME. the dark grey of the concrete walls is pretty off putting. the cuffs  around her bony wrists are eventually unlocked and soon enough, she’s left to her  own devices.

         as with any professional occupation,           countless tiring hours were to be wasted          away sorting files and transferring information.          with as little background his newest patient          had disclosed to briarcliff, this only made his          work twice as grievous and his headache nearly          unbearable. but, countless signatures and wisps          of cigarette smoke later, he was done. he could           finally begin some sort of treatment on joanna.          what a beauty she was, oliver simply couldn’t          get over it. her face was as ivory as porcelain,          and she seemed so warm. it was as if she were          lit from the inside out, similar to a fireplace. he          was more than just envious of that quality. the          guards were too much effort for his taste, so           the thick heels of dress shoes clicked their          way down the hallways until he reached her           room. the extraneous metal door was swung          open and the doctor’s voice called out. 

 she notices his evasion of her question and she’s tempted to make something of it.  maybe he’s as sick & twisted as the rest of this people in this place. but maybe she’s  overreacting. she thinks it’s funny how a place run by people who serve GOD would  let so many UNHOLY things happen to the patients in here.

           “ why? you SICK of me already? “

 almost as if on cue, the door opens and a short yet burly man steps in. jo assumes this  is the carl the doctor mentioned. he’s about to put his hands on her to get her up, but she  grabs his thick wrist in protest.

                “ i assure you i can walk without your help. “

       ‘ jo, i’d hate to apologize to you          so soon after our introduction.           it’s part of our patient regulations          that he escorts you safely. because,          after all, this I S an asylum. it’d be tragic          if anything happened because of a          patient getting loose from the supervision          of a guard. ‘

she scoffs, eyes wandering over to the windows, seeing the overcast weather OUTSIDE  which appropriately reflects the mood INSIDE. she can handle sensory deprivation, make  it look like she’s making progress then do what she actually came here to do. the entire  reason she came here in the first place is because of what’s been going on in the woods  out back.      “ electroshock? a little inhumane, don’t you think? we’re not animals. “

 her bleeding heart has gotten her into trouble before, and undoubtedly will again. if that’s  really how they treat people in here… then finding out what’s in those woods might not be  the only thing on her agenda.

                     “ and call me jo. only my MOTHER calls me joanna. “

       the smallest of hairs were standing        pinstraight on the back of his neck,        and a heavy swallow did what it could        to disperse his uneasiness. he had to,        of course, front with the upmost air        of professionalism and brilliance. 

            ‘ okay then, JO. ‘    her name fell from his tongue   with a poisonous flavour, and    an ironic grin filled his features.   a pen was clicked to life, and    scribbles were added to one of   her many papers. 

       ‘ can i tell you a secret?                    NUTMEG makes all the difference. ‘

   his demeanor doesn’t faze her. she was raised in a bar. she’s been dealing     with this her entire life. but, she figures she might as well cooperate, get on     his good side. maybe that way she’ll actually have a chance at getting out of     here. with a tight lipped grin, she lets go of her hostile attitude.

     “ joanna beth harvelle. 32 years old. sometimes i see my dead father standing in my house.”

    a less than sincere smile replaces that grin. her glance draws towards the bright     CHERRY of his cigarette, threatening to fall if not taken care of. she’s not an avid     smoker, but in times of stress ( much like this one ) she’s ACHING for a drag.

        ‘ that sounds rather frightening. i’m sorry you’ve           been going through that. sounds like our very...           typical case of psychosis. but that’s nothing            you need to worry yourself about. we’ll have you            fixed up with the perfect treatment in no time. what           you will notice, in being here, is that all of you are                           E X A C T L Y       alike. you’ll never quite                                                                              be alone. ‘

the remnants from his nearly forgotten  cigarette were smushed into a tin tray at the corner of his desk-space, and thick fingers moved rapidly to flick through the  multitude of papers within her patient folder. sure enough, the reports she was admitted for matched the story she’d told him. oliver gripped the thick-framed spectacles from his nose and  placed them besides the rest of his belongings.

of all the things she’s done to get a job done, this might possibly be the stupidest.    why she’d agreed to let the boys’ drop her off at a mental institution is beyond her,    even then, the plan to get her out was unstable, and now it seemed IMPOSSIBLE.    chills ran up her arms, bare and exposed to the chilled air of the madhouse; the    ASYLUM.

              ❛  i’m sure you already know it. ❜

   a blonde head of hair tilts down to the  manila folder in his hands, most  likely containing    the summary of her case. winchester & co had the idea, she’s supposed to have been    having vivid hallucinations of her DEAD father, showing up in her house holding his guts    in. PSYCHOSIS is the official diagnosis.

          the attitude in her voice was ever so slightly           off-putting. nevertheless, her case had piqued            his interest. chocolate eyes raised to meet hers,           with a deep glare locking within them. he was sure           to make his expression unreadable, as if the mind           sitting between his ears was the most intricate of           puzzles. oliver would love to keep it that way.                a palm tapped firmly against the folder. impatience               was testing him, but showing this would trigger a               sense of weariness within his patient. 

    ‘ actually, you’re mistaken. when i am given       another one of you messes to clean up, they       only identify you as a number. so, patient #6782,       would you like me to tell me a little about your        story? if not, i’d be happy to just dance along with       your admission report and be done with it. but, as       a licensed psychiatrist, i get paid to pretend that i       give a damn about what you have to say. so please,           S P E A K. ‘

        ‘ it is to my understanding,                 miss,          that you’ve been submitted under my care. ‘   

his throat felt rusty from his pack-a-day nicotine addiction, of which he’d tried so hard to kick as a teenager. though, all efforts to do so had proved fruitless, and yet another camel was resting softly between two doigts of his left hand. oliver had a brand new, crisp manila folder atop the oak desk in front of him. a new patient. another golden opportunity. she’d been escorted to his office via the burly arms of frank, the main security man of briarcliff. he was an  undeniably corrupt man, who more than likely was suspicious that thredson was up to no good, but he kept his mouth shut, and for that alone he was respectful. blonde twirls fell down her shoulders, and the doctor made is as slight as possible that he was examining her.