Dirty Patient

two | the asylum hunt

"The fuck just happened? You guys alright?" Lucas doesn't wait for our answers and immediately gets out of the car. Millie, Ian and I follow suit. I glance at Ian's face and he is definitely pissed. Hell pissed is an understatement, the guy looks ready to tear anyone into halves.

Turning my head towards Millie, I place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze it. "You didn't get hurt, did you?"

Judging from her wide eyed expression, Millie has definitely gone into a state of shock, but nonetheless she nods. "Are you alright?"

I nod and walk round the car to join Ian and Lucas in the front. The windshield is thoroughly shattered, as if someone threw something solid at it. True enough, as Ian goes to the driver side and opens the door , he grabs a rock as huge as the size of my fist, which has been lying on the seat and angrily walks over to us.

"Is there any message with it?" Lucas asks, a scowl marred on his face.

"No," Ian rasps and looks over to us. "Did you see anyone in front of the car? Or near it?"

We all shake our heads at him in unison. "I think it's from the Typhoons," Millie muses out. "It's the season.... Maybe that's why they are messing with us."

Uneasiness fills my stomach as I ponder over her words. Yes, it could be the rival football team but something in my guts is telling me that it might not be the case.

I look around at our surroundings. A few people have gathered around Ian's car but no one seems shady enough to do any damage. But still, something is off here.

Lucas suddenly chimes. "Let's go to Cormac's. He can fix your windshield in no time."

Ian lets the stone drop from his hands and kicks it away. He looks livid enough to beat the shit out of someone. Which is why I said,

"Let's spar. You'll feel a lot more relaxed after that."

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I enter my condo around 7 o'clock clock in the evening, all hot and sweaty. While sparring helps a lot with my mental health, doing it with Ian makes me both physically and mentally exhausted.

A ding from my phone grabs my attention and I fish it out of my pocket and simultaneously placing my duffel bag near the sofa.

A text from Millie is what greets me when I tap on the notification.

Millie: Don't forget about our patient hunt. I already found a good asylum. Check it out yourself and then we'll go there together on Thursday.

Her text is followed by a Google attachment of the said asylum.

I have no joy in doing this entire observation shit, but unfortunately I have no other option left if I want to get good grades.

I quickly take a shower and make some mac n' cheese for the dinner. The moment I put all the content in a bowl, I sit on my sofa with my laptop on my lap and a bowl of hot mac n' cheese in my hand.

I pull up the Google search engine and enter the name of the mental asylum Millie suggested, while leisurely eating my dinner.

Morningfield Psychiatric Institution.

Thirty minutes drive from my apartment. One of the best mental asylums in Stanford. Patients vary from harmless to extremely harmful. Allows college students to observe patients.

There. That's my ticket to getting good grades.

I grab my phone and without second guessing anything, shoot a text to Millie.

Me: Thursday. 12 o' clock. Meet me at the bus stop.