Insanity (Asylum 1)

“I swear, you wretched girl, you never listen,” she growls ignoring my tortured plea. We’re halfway to my room when Marjorie stops abruptly. I fly forward, losing my balance, but Marjorie’s tight grip on my elbow keeps me upright. I sneer at her and open my mouth to say something when I notice who she’s

looking at, Dr. Watson. Marjorie’s cheeks are flushed and she’s giggling. Marjorie? Giggling? Either she’s head over heels for this new doctor or she’s been hanging out with one of Daddy’s old friends. “Elijah,” she fumbles, “I mean Dr. Watson, I mean good evening, Dr. Watson,” she gushes.

“Good evening, Marjorie.” His tone is pleasing and light, but he’s not even looking in Marjorie’s direction. His eyes are deadlocked on me. “Adelaide,” he says curtly with a nod.

“Addy,” I correct him. I thought he and I already discussed this.

“Right,” he says grinning. “My apologies, Addy.” His eyes cut to Marjorie. “What’s going on here?” Then his gaze centers on the way Marjorie is gripping my arm. “I thought I heard the patient yelling out in pain. I thought I heard her say you were hurting her.”

At his comment Marjorie loosens her grip on my arm then she cocks her head toward me, a wicked leer on her lips. “This one is a troublemaker. Never follows the rules.”

“I can hear you,” I mutter.

Marjorie ignores me and goes on.

But as soon as she starts talking, I tune her out. There’s a clock in my head and I can feel the minutes pulsate in my temples as they tick by. Meet me in the utility closet in twenty minutes. If Marjorie doesn’t hurry I’m going to miss my chance to see Damien. And I want him—need him. I need to feel his touch, listen to his voice, see his beautiful face. I need it and if I don’t have my chance, not seeing him will kill me.

My thoughts are interrupted when Marjorie drops her hand from my elbow and Dr. Watson says, “I can take her from here Marjorie.”

Oh no. Marjorie turns and starts down the hall. I want to scream at her. No, Marjorie! I’ll take your painful grasp and bite my tongue! Please, Marjorie! Don’t leave me with this man! This beautiful, wicked man! This doctor who is capable of cruelty! My spine stiffens, panic infiltrates my nervous system, and a wave of nausea unfurls in the pit of my stomach. I swallow hard, determined to show no fear in front of him.

Dr. Watson, extends his arm to me. “Shall we?”

I can’t bring myself to react.

He stands in his spot for a minute before an impatient gleam appears in his eyes. “I thought I told you earlier, I don’t bite.” Even though his voice is soft and laced with the tiniest bit of kindness, the information I learned from, Cynthia, earlier still haunts me. This man is deadly, responsible for killing one of the other patients, performing a procedure that is dangerous and has never been proven to even work on any of the patients here.

“Fine,” he says coolly, “If you’re going to be stubborn then we can walk side by side.”

“Okay,” I croak and then pick up my feet, walking.

We walk for five minutes and somewhere in that length of passing time I find my voice. “Why couldn’t you let Marjorie finish walking me to my room?” I’m surprised by the stern tone in my voice.

Dr. Watson looks surprised too. Then that surprised look turns into a look of pain when his eyes touch my arm. I follow his gaze and take in the red welts from Marjorie’s manlike fingertips. Dr. Watson reaches out to touch the fresh bruises, but I yank my elbow away, holding it with my other hand. “She was hurting you.” His voice is barely above a whisper.

I gaze into his eyes and swear that I see a flash of concern there. This doctor puzzles me. He lets me get away with a lot. Granted, I don’t really know what a lot is on his scale, but I’ve snapped at him several times, disregarded his authority, and still he hasn’t done anything to me. Some of the other doctors would take action with one slip up and I’ve seen it happen. Maybe Cynthia received mixed information. Maybe she is wrong about him.

We stand across from each other for a few more minutes, an unsettling silence built up between us, but neither one of us moves. It’s like I can’t function because his gaze is totally and completely captivating me. I almost forget about meeting Damien. Oh no! Damien! My love. What am I doing? What am I thinking?

For the briefest sliver of a second I thought about what it might feel like to kiss Dr. Watson, as crazy as it sounds, and I’m hating myself for having those thoughts. “Thank you for walking me back to my room, Dr. Watson. It was kind of you,” I tell him.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow then Adelaide.” He turns to leave.

“Tomorrow?”

Dr. Watson stops and faces me again. “Yes, I’ll be treating you from now on so you’ll be meeting with me four times a week.”

“But I only met with Dr. Morrow once or twice a week.”

“Well.” He smiles and this is the first time I’ve noticed the dimples in his cheeks. “Dr. Morrow and I have very different methods on how we treat our patients.”

“Oh.” I don’t know why, but his words bring the uneasy feeling in my gut back in circulation. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

He nods then walks down the corridor.

I close my door, resting my ear against the oak, waiting patiently for Dr. Watson’s footsteps to fade. Once they do, I crack the door and peek down the empty corridor, my eyes on the utility closet door at the end of the hall.

“Where are you going?”