MADNESS

2. Monday

SYDNEY WILSON

My day started as usual today, had a piece of butter bread as breakfast, put my uniform on and sprinted to my car to get to the asylum in time and now I'm currently on my lunch break at the canteen. After eating, I have to spend time with the patients in the main room, which is my favorite part of the day. The main room is basically a huge salon where the patients are given their time to recreate and socialize. Socialize with me, mostly. The room is big enough for avoiding claustrophobia attacks and potential self destructive anxiety habits, it has a lot of sofas and tables, windows and chairs. Stress toys, board games and cards are accesible to everyone if they want to take them from the shelves, in which you can also find compartments prepared with asthma attack inhalers, because you never know, and all sorts of entertaining things that could keep their minds occupied and busy. Everything in there is compartmented with things that come in handy if anything bad happens.

But anyway, today should be a good day.

I eat for another 15 minutes. I get up, clean my table and leave to the main room where the patients should've been allowed in 5 minutes ago. Their programme is way stricter than mine, especially because I sleep in my comfortable bed every night and they sleep on a dirty matress in a cell, on heavy medication too. A part of me thinks they deserve it to some extent, because all of them have committed at least one terrible crime to get in this institution, but the other part of me feels sympathy, because they could've had a fair shot at life if their brain was healthy. But now they're locked up in here and they can't do much to take back what they've done so it's pointless to think about it.

I enter the room slowly. I look left and right, most eyes are on me. They won't be for too long. Who should I talk to first? Today is Monday, which means I have to play cards with the patients, keep them focused on the game, rather than their thoughts or the medicine they've taken this morning.

I don't spend too much thinking about it, because something else catches my attention. The doors on the other side of the room open abruptly, creating noise. In the usual blue uniform, a patient walks in. That patient is Night Shadow and today is his first day in this salon.

Won't be his last.

He came in walking in a very intimidating manor, with wave of superiority, looking at everyone like he knows something we don't. Or just simply more than us. I don't feel like talking to him today, but that's my job. I must to talk to him. At least I know he can't really cause me any harm, he can't do much while constantly being watched by the 10 security guards in this room.

Everyone in staring at him. He's new for everyone, and no one has access to the news outside. They don't know what he's done to get here, how disturbing his case is and they've been taught not to ask, or else they'd get cell time for way too long.

I'd say that's much better for them anyway. They shouldn't know.

I wish I didn't know.

***

After 2 hours of talking to the patients about books, movies and other common discussion topics, I realize that now I have to get to the last one, whom I've avoided all day. Maybe he'd tell me his real name, so I wouldn't have to call him that stupid nightmare.

I sit down at the table with him, right by the biggest window of the salon.

"Hi." I greet, smiling. I have to be polite so that everyone feels comfortable. I can't show some of the patients how I truly feel about them, and that definitely includes him.

He finally looks up at me. "Hey."

It's hard to admit it, because I don't want to, but his gaze makes me nervous, which doesn't really happen. I've never seen him so up-close before.