Natalie

Chapter 3

An institution for the care of people who are mentally ill.

Hospitals or wards specializing in the treatment of serious mental disorders.

Care.

Treatment.

Words that didn't fit Uncle Cornelius. He didn't need help.

"Do you want me to go in with you?" Hunter asked. We were parked outside the Yellow Creek Mental Institute, I stared from the passenger window. It'd been two days since Blaze's party was forcefully shut down. Two days to get the address and visiting hours of the institute. And then to work up the nerve to actually drive there.

"No, I'm okay," I said, finally looking at him and giving him my best brave smile.

"I know," he said wrapping his hand around the back of my neck and pulled me in for a soft kiss.

I gave my last smile before climbing out of the car.

I read and reread the name; Yellow Creek Mental Institution.

I knew the colour Yellow was to promote happy vibes, reminding you of sunlight and joy. All it reminded me of was a pus filled sore.

"Hi. I'm here for visiting hours, um, Dr. Cornelius Ira?" I asked the receptionist, unsure of myself.
She understood my discomfort and laughed lightly.

"They're all in the cafeteria. Just walk down this hallway over here, at the end turn right and it's through the door at the end," she smiled politely after giving me directions. The front office looked welcoming with cream, plush couches and a coffee table with magazines on it.

I followed her instructions and ended up in a large, sunny room. Large men in crisp white nursing suits stood against all the walls, each scanning the room every few seconds like human surveillance cameras. The sound of children's toys, Mozart and rambling filled the room.

In the corner, stationed behind a table filled with travel books sat Uncle Cornelius. Keeping him company was a man and a woman. The man staring blankly out the window with his mouth hanging open, allowing drool to spill onto his shirt.
The woman staring deeply into the pages of my uncle's books, but seeming not to notice a thing on them.

Uncle Cornelius was frantically going through the books, pointing to some pictures and saying "That doesn't really exist" and shaking his head.

I made my way to the sad trio.

"Uncle Cornelius?" I said as I reached the table. He completed what looked to be his twentieth travel guide and threw it to the floor. Picking another one from the table and beginning his game again. He hadn't even noticed me standing there.

"Uncle Cornelius!" I raised my voice slightly and his head shot up. He began to tear up when he saw my face.

"Natalie!" He said, getting up to hug me, he slammed his body into mine. One of the men in white closest to us stepped forward but I signalled him off.
"Natalie," he whispered, "they're trying to make me forget. But I won't forget. This place... there's something in the air... It makes you forget... but I won't forget. It's all a trick, they're good at keeping secrets. And I nearly figured out what it was but they got me!" He burst out suddenly, making me jump.

"Uncle Cornelius..." I said, pulling him out of our embrace and sitting him on the chair at the next table, "you're here because you tried to steal a plane. And when you got caught you told them about your theories. That's why you're here. Not because the government is trying to 'silence' you," I said slowly.

He began to cry when I said this, putting his head in his hands. The man in white stepped towards us again but I once again signalled him off.

"I always trusted you most, Natalie. I know you don't believe me," he said, looking at me again, he almost looked sane, "and I'm tired of trying to make you. But as your uncle, and you my niece, bring me something?"

I felt heartsore for him. His whole life he tried convincing people that the Earth was flat. I never knew what started him on it, we all just assumed it was simply madness.

"Uncle this place doesn't allow presents or gifts."

"I know... just let it be our secret?"

I opened my mouth to protest when he went on.

"It's just a feather. A small feather..." he said, breaking into a fit of giggles, "it helps me sleep, I can't sleep without it... and I've been here a week, Natalie."

His eyes filled with tears again.

"Let me sleep, Natalie. They inject me if I don't sleep."

I couldn't look at him anymore, I looked down at my hands. I scratched at my cuticles when I was nervous, and I now I couldn't stop.

"Just a feather?" I asked, still not looking up.

"Yes, very small. Very pretty."

I sighed, "Where is it?"

I heard him gasp and then clear his throat. I looked up at him to see a smile on his face.

"In my basement," he whispered, "there is a trap door underneath the plastic owl. You must move the owl to the back left corner of the dresser on the west wall. Remember, on the edge of the corner." He emphasised.

I began to regret encouraging this.

"You will hear a small click once the owl is in the right position. The handle of the trap door must first be pushed in before pulling it up. Down down down you go and on the desk on the north wall is a music box. Open the box carefully, it's very old. Inside, you will find my pretty feather."

He drifted off, thinking of his beloved treasure.

I sighed.

"Okay Uncle, but remember that this is our secret. Don't tell a soul," I gestured to his two companions.

He smiled like a young boy planning to steal sweets.

"I won't tell."

I hugged him before leaving the sun filled room. I shook my head as I realised I was risking breaking the law to give my uncle a feather.