MADMAN'S ARMS

8

Thankfully, the lunch hour went through without any aggressive outbursts. The patients were now medicated for the second time of the day, and as per the routine after lunch, they were now allowed to gather around in the free area.

In there, the patients could play games, read books, or do other creative stuff to stimulate their brains and help them socialize with others. For many of them, the gathering room was a sanctuary where they could expose their creativity, while for others, it was a tough social challenge, a terrifying place filled with other human beings.

It was always fascinating to watch the individuals and their behaviour, it was a part of learning for me.

Seated in the middle of the assembly, I was surrounded by the noisy environment.
An old man played memory cards with a much younger girl, while another boy sat sartorially by the window and stared out at the big lawn with an empty look.

An elderly woman sat in one of the armchairs talking to someone who was not present, and another girl, who I would say was my age, sat on the floor singing for herself while holding a ragged teddy bear tightly in her arms, rocking back and forth.

With Grace Jackson beside me, I painted on a piece of paper to accompany her activity. I introduced myself and tried to connect with her to get an impression of her state of mind, but realized I would need some time to reach her. I started inspecting her carefully.

She used colourful pencils and painted patterns in what appeared as flowers and birds. It was always positive when things turned out colourful or bright in their images, because painting and colours were often used as a way to express themselves about what they thought or what they felt.

( 🎶 Lolita - Lana Del Rey )

I looked around the room to keep myself keen, and just as I was going to further interact with Grace, the big door suddenly opened up and a tall figure stepped inside with a guard walking closely behind him.

The young man carried a dark expression and his charcoal eyes were strained as he traced over the wooden floor. His lips wore a dark pink colour and were perfectly plump in shape.

He had messy, dark blond hair and a sharp, masculine jawline. His figure was skinny and tall, and his pale arms were filled with scars which made the light skin rosy around every tiny cut.

I couldn't keep my eyes off him as he walked through the room with the broad man tightly behind, and as he inspected the room with his terrifying flair, his eyes, just like the moment earlier, met with my own.

He kept his gaze stuck into mine as he continued to walk his way over the floor. Once again I got shivers all over my body. He was frightening me. I could see that he was dangerous.

He sat down in one of the armchairs in the very corner of the room, all by himself, and opened up a book. A very familiar one for my notice.

The book embraced by his masculine hands was Lolita, a very intriguing, touching, and unpalatable book with its abnormal and graphic plot about widower Humbert Humbert, who after a committed murder, writes down his disgusting confessions about his desire and love for nymphs, underaged girls.

While following through the book's perspective, you slowly but clearly get manipulated to forget that it's a true paedophile telling the story about his sexual admission with an underaged girl, Lolita. The book was one of my favorites of great literature.

I shrugged by the graphic choice of book that the young man just had made. Why did he choose Lolita?

Once again the curiosity about Brandon Barlowe's past and committed homicides took over my body and I looked at the man who had just started reading peacefully in the surrounding chaos. I inspected his movements.

He was so smooth and secretive, and I got fascinated with the way he managed to keep his focus on the book. I wondered what this gorgeously mysterious man possibly could have done.

All of a sudden I got interrupted by the young girl sitting next to me and I finally managed to move my eyes off the man to look at Grace instead.

"This is how I feel today," She explained unbothered, while pointing at one of the colorful flowers on the paper. My heart got warm and I gave her a friendly smile.

"That is good to hear, Grace!" I cheered with my professional, caring voice.

"How often would you say you feel like that flower?" I asked further as I pointed at the same flower. The tiny girl shrugged and she got quiet for a couple of seconds.

I knew it could be a delicate thing to ask in her free, creative time. But it was in moments like this I could get a reflection of someone, one they didn't even know themselves that they had.

"Last week there were two rainbows, one blue, and four black flowers," She explained while grabbing her pencil again to fill in the remaining flowers. I realized that she spoke in those patterns and that the rainbow was probably referred to as the good days and the black ones the bad, which left blue somewhere in between. It was enough response for me, so I smiled at her again and allowed her to continue with her creativity.

"That's good, with two rainbows!" I stated. But she didn't look up at me this time, she just kept her focus on her paper.

"Yes," She murmured. I left her alone with her creation and walked over to the left side of the room where Mildred sat on one of the couches.

All I wanted to do was ask about the new guy, but I didn't want to be nosy about a patient. Still I wanted to know why there was a guard with him and why everyone got so tense when he walked by in the hallway earlier today.

"Did you see who just came in?" I asked with a silent voice, and Mildred froze for a second before she sighed out.

"Couldn't miss it," She cautioned, still with her eyes placed on the magazine she was holding in her hands.

"Who is he? What has he done?" My curiosity took over once again. I couldn't let go of the thought that he was a well-known psychopath who committed some of England's most famous murderers. There must be a lot a person has to do to get a title like that.

"There's a long list of things, Beverly. He's a dangerous man, a killer, a manipulative one," She remarked, almost whispering now. My heart stopped for a second. I knew there were people here who were criminally insane. But cold-hearted murderers belonged in prison.

I carefully turned my head around to the corner of the room to once again look at the attractive, mysterious creature sitting by himself with the guard still standing in position behind him. As he noticed my obvious glare, he moved his eyes up from the pages and looked right at me.

His dark eyes were as terrifying as before, and his serious face immediately turned into a big, bad grin as he noticed that I couldn't stop staring. I got frightened by the grin and the goosebumps on my skin made me fade back to reality.

In a fast move, I turned my head around, away from him. My heart was racing and my eyes were wide. He was sitting there, a long distance from me, peacefully reading the book, with a guard watching him and still I got so frightened by him.

I didn't know why, but my only hope right now was that I never would have to get any closer to him than this. Because if he was able to turn my presence upside down from this distance, what could he possibly be capable of doing in his closest proximity?

The unusual day was finally about to reach its end, and I was now laying in my bed in my dark and silent bedroom.

I was trying so hard to sleep, but I couldn't stop thinking about the terrifying man and his beautifully disgusting grin. There was no other patient at the institution who had got me scared, at least not yet. But he did. I hadn't even spoken to the guy and still he made me feel so uncomfortable somehow.

I turned over and over in my bed, and closed my eyes once again. I had to get some sleep, I was exhausted after this day and my body's physical reactions towards the horrifying new inmate, but the heavy lump in my stomach refused to ease since I would probably have to see him again tomorrow.

I took a deep breath and tried to get control over my disturbing thoughts, and after a few minutes, I succeeded and finally felt my heartbeat getting steady and calm.

Slowly I began to fall into my sleep by the counting of stars. That was always the most useful imaginary tactic for me to get control over distracting thoughts.