The Asylum - 3

    She stood out there in the middle of the grounds, her frail body silhouetted by the vibrant colours of the morning sun. I silently watched her for a moment as she faced the sun, eyes closed, a small smile on her face (which was significant, because she never smiled at any other time, that I can recall. Watching her there, I felt as though I wasn't just wrangling a 'difficult' patient, I was witnessing something very important to her, even if I never came to understand why. As it happens, I never did. 

    I approached her slowly, keeping a generous distance between the two of us in case she was spooked again. Once I made sure that she knew I was there, I knew she'd resist going back inside. There was something about the sun that she needed-- maybe it was an anchor for her, you know? A fixed point where she could always find comfort, no matter where she was. Like I said, I had no idea why she was out there, but I knew it mattered to her, and she was going to fight like hell when I tried to get her back inside. 

    First, I had to see how lucid she was. Without moving or talking too loud, I tried talking to her. "Abigail?" No reply, despite her face wincing a little and her eyes darting to me for a half second when she heard her name. "Abigail, we have to go inside."

    "I don't want to." Her voice sounded deep and husky, in contrast to how small and vulnerable she was. "I want to stay here, in the sun."

    "Oh honey, you know that putting up a fight is going to land you in the shoe. Is that what you want?" I took a slow, careful step forward. "There are no windows there, you know. It's always dark."

    "I'm not leaving this spot."

    "Abby..."

    "No."

    What happened then was my fault, because I did it again. I touched her. Not in any aggressive way, mind-- I touched the back of her hand, lightly, a gesture of compassion that I don't regret at all, despite the fact that she scratched out my eye. That poor girl had been through so much that she deserved to feel the sun on her face, and I would have fought for her, lost eye or not -- but, she did what she did, because I did what I did, and there was no way around it. She was going to solitary.

    It happened so fast. The instant my fingers touched her skin, a primal noise came out of Abigail's throat, like the roar of some evil beast living just under the surface -- her hands with those wretched fingernails lashed out at me before I knew what happened. I felt a warm 'pop' as I felt my left eye rupture, and the blinding pain left me screaming on the grass. Almost instantly, a squad of orderlies tore across the lawn and piled on her. She didn't make a sound or move at all until they got close enough to touch her -- and I tried to holler at them to be careful, but I was a woman, and a nurse, so I wasn't surprised when I was ignored.

    They carted her away, and I never saw her again. I know she spent a brief time in solitary, but escaped shortly after with that awful monsters who murdered all those girls in the early 40s. You probably wouldn't remember, but he was a very bad man, and when the prison break happened and that godforsaken alarm went off, the entire Garden fell into chaos. Patients were screaming, laughing, climbing the walls. Even after I'd come back after the surgery, the place was a mess. I didn't say anything, because I didn't want to believe it, but I had a strong feeling that Abigail had something to do with the breakout, and the massacre. At least ten guards died on that day, and several of the staff were hospitalized with minor injuries -- could Abby have done that? I can't answer that. I don't want to think of her as a monster. 

    I never saw Abigail again, nor the animal that went with her. In fact, to this day no one's ever seen or heard from either of them again. I think about her now and then (every time I look in the mirror, actually), and I wonder if she's doing okay. 

    Wherever she is, I hope she found the sun.

[FIN]

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© - Jackson Cambridge, 2015.