The Coming | The House of Voices #2

Four - Performance

 

Performance

Darren:

 

With every single person in the institute crammed into the small Entertainment room on the patients’ floor, Darren was beginning to feel a little claustrophobic. The patients – Kara, Sid, Bethany and newcomer Jakob – had all gotten there early and had taken over the large leather couch in front of the TV and had complete monopoly over the remote. For once, however, it didn’t matter who held the remote. Everyone in the room was here to watch that same thing. The evening news.

He stood at the doorway, arms crossed over his chest in an attempt to draw attention away from the worry swimming in his eyes and make everyone believe that he was just hoping that the runaways had been caught. So far, it seemed to be working. Except for the empathetic nod that Sid Witherberry, the boy with the anxiety disorder, had given him when he walked into the room, no one had acted like they knew the truth.

Someone whispered something urgently from the couch that Darren didn’t quite catch. Dr. Larkson whipped around in her seat and barked an irritated, “shut up, everyone. It’s starting.” The buzz of conversation inside the room died down immediately.

Everyone turned their attention to the TV screen, where a woman dressed in blue was reporting the local news. The volume was turned down low, so all Darren could gather was that there had been a fire somewhere, and an old man had gotten mugged. Finally, after more news he didn’t pay attention to, everyone in the room sat up a little straighter and he made himself focus on the screen. 

“In other news this evening, the search for the Abercoster’s runaway, Parish Feltman still continues. Seventeen year old Feltman – who was recently diagnosed with multiple personality disorder -  escaped from the Institute for Troubled Youth in the middle of the night, almost three days ago and has seemingly vanished without a trace.” The newsreader paused to take a breath, and Darren noticed Dr. Larkson tap her fingers against the arm of the stuffed armchair she was seated in anxiously. “Authorities say they have formed search parties to find the boy and will not rest until he is safely back at Abercoster’s. The public is urged to be on the lookout for the boy and bear in mind that his mental illness means that he is a potential threat to society. If anyone happens to see the boy or comes across any information that may help the authorities find him, please do not hesitate to call the police…”

The photograph from Parish’s patient file appeared on the screen as the newsreader kept talking. It covered the entire screen for a few seconds before minimizing and moving to a corner, just next to the newsreader’s face. The woman reminded the public of the danger Parish posed to both himself and the public before switching over to a sports report.

The anxiety in the room deflated within seconds. Slowly, the nurses and custodians began to exit the room until it was just the Head Nurse, Patty Malone, the patients and the two doctors remaining.

“This is bullshit.” Darren’s gaze snapped back to the center of the room, where Kara had leapt out of her seat and was staring angrily at the TV screen.

“Watch your language, Hendrix.” Dr. Larkson warned her icily. She had no patience with any of the institute’s patients.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the girl snapped back with equal amounts of ice, “is my reacting to the fact that my roommate and supposed best friend ran off with some nutjob and left me with to rot in this hell-hole distracting you from the fact that you managed to lose two of your most unstable patients?”

Larkson only glared in response. Carefully, Darren watched the girl for signs that her disease was taking over and all this was just an explosion of amplified emotions caused by her bi-polar disorder. He found none. She wasn’t having an episode.