MADMAN'S ARMS

11

After my first, distanced impression of Brandon, the meeting went better than I ever thought, and even though he made me extremely uncomfortable and tried to humiliate me several times, he didn't outburst or act in a verbally aggressive way.

Compared to how I thought he would be, I was surprised in a positive way, and it turned out his persona was not as terrifying as his look.

The next session with him would be after lunch, and I was already caught up in nervosity, wondering what was about to come. I walked into the staff room to grab a coffee and have a smoke to take a quick break.

The meeting with Brandon was exhausting and the clock was only 9:05 am.

To get through this day I would probably have to smoke a full package of cigarettes to keep myself steady and calm. After a couple of heavy toxic breaths and a full cup of all-black caffeine, I left the staff room and headed my way towards the office.

I sat down at the same desk as yesterday and started to write the notes from the morning session with my new patient. While working with his files, my mind distracted me with the imagination of the young man inside cellar number 401.

The scars and fresh cuts over his pale white arms, the danger in his soot gaze, and the detestable grin exposing the dimples in the immaculate skin on his cheeks.

There was no wonder that boy had been through a lot, but I still wondered what it was, and what were the consequences of it.

I shrugged as I realized my interruption and began to focus on my work again, and as I was finished, I put back Brandon's file in the archives and picked up Grace's instead to finally make the decision for her furlough.

After my personal meeting with her at the gathering time the other day, I felt much more confident about making the decision. Even if the poor girl had the majority of bad days, it would certainly help her if she got out for a day or two, as long as she was watched over.

That was a common way of therapy for the patients who had a future outside of the hospital walls, and if I was the one to judge, Grace was luckily one of them, even if her disorders probably would be a distraction throughout her whole life.

While writing down the professional conclusion, the door to the office opened and a familiar woman stepped inside and walked over to my desk.

"Hello, Beverly. I just wanted to bring your new schedule," She breathed, trying not to disturb the other working nurses in the room. I smiled at Dorothy and grabbed the papers from her hand.

"Thank you," I cautioned, as quiet as herself.

"How was the session with Brandon?" She then asked, her serious face still making me a little bit nervous even if she was kind. I got silent for a second, trying to figure out how to respond.

"It went well, but he didn't mention anything about why he wanted me there?" I pleaded with seriousness. That was still the thing I wanted to know the most. Why me? Dorothy shrugged and sighed.

"He's a very special patient of ours, there will be many things you'll never get an answer to. But as long as he behaves, I'm pleased," My stomach turned by her words and I exhaled.

"Yes, me too," I mumbled lastly, and Dorothy smiled at me before she turned her back and left the room, and once again I got stuck in my thoughts. It really felt like Brandon put a spell on me.

I had never felt this way about treating a patient before, no matter how violent or aggressive the person was.

I realized that the time had flown by when I looked at the clock that hung on the wall in front of me. 11:50 am, already. I sorted out the papers in front of me and walked over to the archive to leave the files. I folded Grace's permission papers in an envelope and put them in the mailbox next to the door of the office.

Hopefully, that young girl's parents would sign the papers for her to come home. With my calendar and the new schedule Dorothy brought me, I left the office with the other nurses and we began to walk away for our lunch break.

The best feeling about having lunch was that I would get to meet Harriet, Mildred, and Janet again. It always felt good to talk with them about things I wanted to know, or about how our morning hours went. Even if I was still at work, the three of them helped me to catch a break from the surrounding darkness.

"So, how was your morning, Beverly?" Mildred asked while the other two girls looked at me. I couldn't help but grin a little at the fact that they still didn't know anything.

"Ms. Schwartz called me for a meeting..." I said using a sneaky voice. The three girls' eyes got wide and Janet who sat beside me laid her hand on my shoulder.

"What? Any specific reason?" She asked with a concerned voice. I took a deep breath and shook my head.

"Well, according to her and Nurse Browne, the new guy was forcingly asking to get me as his treater," My voice was now withdrawn and shy. Janet dropped her hand on the table and all their jaws hit the floor by surprise.

"WHAT?" Janet broke out.

"Why?" Harriet added.

"Did she ask you to undertake him?" Mildred asked along.

The girls' concerning reactions lapped each other and I could hear the astonishment in all of them. I suddenly felt like a celebrity with an audience. Was it such a big deal even for the people around me?

Brandon's effect on me was something no one else knew about, but the girls' reaction to his arrival, and this very moment, only proved that there was something special about him.

"Apparently, he said that he would refuse treatment and cooperation if he didn't get what he wanted. So Ms. Schwartz asked me, in a respectful way, if I would take the role as his nurse," I further explained.

"So what did you say?"

"Did you accept it?"

"I hope you didn't!"

Once again the girls spoke out at the same time. It was sarcastic, how they were all so blood-dead serious but still sounded so hilarious. I kept quiet for a little longer to make them more impatient and frustrated. What would they say when I told them that I actually agreed to Ms. Schwartz's proposition?

I sighed once again and shrugged before I responded.

"I said yes,"