𝟸𝟾 ᴅᴀʏs (hiatus)

𝟑.

"𝙴𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚙 𝙸 𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚔,

𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚎.

𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎,

𝚃𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝."

—

It took me three hours before I could be relieved from Miss Katherine to come rest. The meal was eventful, if knowing her entire life history was something.

I got up from my wheelchair, holding onto my walking frame that was provided to me for support, I relieved myself and went to bed. It was a long day and the sedatives they used earlier today still seem to have an influence.

Little did I know, I had dozed off for far longer than I anticipated, once again waking up to someone frantically knocking on the door.

Knowing that these people knew I couldn't move quickly, I decided to wake up leisurely, dragging myself across the bed and getting onto my wheelchair. The knocking got louder and so did my patience. Yet, I was too tired.

I slowly rolled my wheelchair and opened the door, minding to be cautious. To my surprise, it was Jonathan who was on the other side.

"Oh my, lady, how long does it take for you to open the door?" Jonathan complained and invited himself into the room.

Raising a brow at his claims, I shrugged, "As long as I feel like taking."

"Okay, Queen Elizabeth."

"Why did you ruin my sleep so early in the morning?"

"The schedule starts early here, at 8 in the morning. So, if you wish to do something, it must be done before that. People of Weathermore are quite ridiculous when it comes to their schedules." he said, while whispering the last part.

Taking note of that, I nodded. But then I realised, he mentioned a name.

"Weathermore?"

"Yes. The name of the asylum." he says, looking confused. "Wait, they did not tell you the name of the asylum too?" his eyes widened.

I did not listen further, my dilemma overwhelming everything. An asylum, I was admitted to an asylum. My parents did not admit me into a hospital with a high reputation, they simply admitted me into an asylum.

"Adelaide, are you good?" he asked me, concerned.

"This is an asylum, mental asylum?"

"Obviously darling, though, not all of us are quite literally mad. We are just, slightly.." he trailed off, pointing to his head, "off in the head, that's it." he said reassuringly.

"So, I was admitted here, because I was 'off in the head'? Not to get treated for my injuries." I ask him.

He looked at me blankly. "I don't know? How would I know? Didn't Miss Katherine give you your guidelines and treatment program plan upon enrolling?"

"No. They just told me to sign a consent form....." I trailed off, the reality striking in, with undeniable force. So, there was a reason they gave me sedatives even though I did not need to appear for surgery. They did it so I would sign a consent form. What would it have been about?

How confidential could it be that the patient entitled to it doesn't even know about it?

Just then, I heard someone knocking on the door. My eyes naturally travelled to the wall clock.

8:05 am

Cursing at Miss Katherine for her punctual timing, I pushed Jonathan into a far crevice of the room and motioned for him to keep quiet. Then hastily, I made my way to the door and opened it slowly.

"Ah, you're up already, that's fantastic." Miss Katherine said cheerfully. I wasn't cheerful though, so I had to force a smile. Ma said it is rude for a lady to be glum to her acquaintance. Then she suddenly changed her expression from happy to sad, replicating a con artist very well. That made me wary, very wary.

"Yes, I had a short but satisfactory sleep."

"That's delightful to listen to, but here is the thing, your psychiatrist, Miss Debonair is on leave today. This means that we cannot start the program now, but, tomorrow. You have the day off, feel free to spend it on your own, or with Jonathan." She said with a wink.

Absolutely atrocious behaviour, I mused.

"Of course, Miss Katherine." I said politely and showed her the way out too, politely of course.

Jonathan came out of his hiding place as soon as the lock sound resonated in the empty room, complaining.

"This place is very unkempt. The amount of dust accumulated could possibly induce a healthy person to have dust allergies." he said, disgusted, while running his finger along the window sill.

I was deep in thought. With my supposed 'psychiatrist' on leave today, it meant I had a day more to look into why I was admitted here. Knowing Jonathan was the only one who I knew here, I turned to him. Not much to my surprise he was still scrutinising the condition of the room.

"Jonathan." I called.

"Yes Queen." He retorted, immediately.

"Do you know your way around here? You did say you have been here for a while." I asked.

"Okay, one, it was rude of you to ignore my absolutely fantastic nickname. Two, yes, I do know my way around, how else do you assume I'm alive here?" He said, dramatically.

"Your nickname is as unoriginal as it can get. And, that's good. You are helping me get some files."

"Oh, tell me, are we doing some spy business?" He asked, forgetting his temper tantrum.

"Something of that sort. Now, where are all the important files stashed?" I ask, while offering him a cup of water. Poor guy, must be parched from all that criticism he offered unnecessarily.

And with that, he began. He went into detail about where the majority of the files are at. Conveniently, it happened to be at the entrance.

Was that convenient or not?

We planned for roughly three hours, going over important aspects. If either of us failed, nothing would work out as expected, causing more issues. Well, it was going well. Jonathan added a few key pieces of information, using his experience around here as an advantage.

"We make a good duo, don't we Queen?" Jonathan asked cheekily.

"I will input my testament after we execute this plan perfectly, without a single flaw." I replied.

Jonathan grumbled something under his breath and continued to perfect the plan, asking more questions along the way, obviously.

Thanks for reading!

-persii