Saving Ignis

One

My alarm clock reminded me of my mother. It was loud, annoying, but in the end I would listen to it and wake up. Like any other day I would kiss my wife good morning and throw on some workout clothes. I'll swing by the kitchen grabbing a cold bottle of water and turning on our small TV next to the fridge.

The weather forecaster would tell the highs and lows, the wrecks that happened, what highways you should avoid due to traffic, ect. I grabbed an apple off the counter and ran it under some warm water. "Woah," I jumped a little when I felt two arms wrap around my waist and a figure press against me.

"Morning baby," Olivia yawned into my shirt.

"I never knew you woke up this early," I chuckled, "I hope I didn't wake you."

"Even if you did I don't care, as long as I get to see you," She backed away letting me see her in my t-shirt, her brown hair in tangles down her back. I could tell through her brown eyes that she was still tired by the shadows under them, "And I'll be even more happier if you would actually stay long enough for me to cook you breakfast."

I looked down at the apple cork in my hands, "These perfect apples you pick from our garden is a lovely breakfast," I saw the stubbornness take over her features, "Oh come on its really goo-"

"You're going to be late." Olivia cut me off, rolling her eyes and walking back into our bedroom.

"I love you too," I murmured, smiling at how cute she is when she gets mad. After shooting the cork into the trashcan and turning off the TV, I grabbed my suitcase near the door and headed to my silver Sedan.

"Morning Harry!" I looked over to our neighbors yard and waved at the little kid.

"Morning Carol!" I shouted back.

I wrapped the towel around my waist and stepped out from the shower. The run I had this morning was only thirty minutes instead my usual hour, there was more traffic today than others which was odd.

"Harry! How glad I am to see you!" Howard comes up to me, rubbing a towel through his wet hair.

"What's up Howard?" I asked while I rubbed lotion on my body.

"What's up is the new inventory we're getting today!" I rolled my eyes at Howard, that's what he called the new patients we got every three months. I didn't like that he called them inventory, but I learned not to fuss about it.

"You're never this happy about new patients," I paused, actually curious now, "Whyare you happy about this group? Are they all girls?"

He laughed, "No, most are guys, butthere is onegirl."

"Okay? What's the big deal about her?"

Howard's jaw fell open, "Do you ever read the files you receive on the inventory or what? We got her."

Howard and I stopped in front of the TV in the locker room just as he said that. There was already a little crowd of our co-workers standing there listening intently.

I began tuning into what the Reporter was saying;

"That's right folks! I'm reporting live to you this breaking news! Back in 2004 a little girl named Alexander Wickers was abducted from her front lawn in Rocksdale County, a county located in Texas. All she left behind for police to find is an overturned pink bicycle and the wrapper of an ice-cream bar."

"Okay? Did they find her?"

"Shut up Styles," Howard elbowed me.

"Now, ten years later, Alexander Wickers is found unconscious in the drive way of a burned down Kansas home. Hours later investigators had revealed to the public that inside they found twenty plus burned bodies, and guess who is taking the blame. That's right, the little girl of Texas is now being held on countless acts of manslaughter. While the investigation is going on, Ms. Wickers is going to be held at the Asylum, The White House."

"Why is she being held here?" I whispered, getting ready for Howard's elbow to come in contact with my stomach.

He leaned over, "When the police found her unconcious, they actually thought she was dead. When they tried to pick her up, she immediately opened her eyes and started screaming and kicking. She ended up breaking one of the guy's nose. She's a nut job really."

"How can you tell? They didn't even show a picture of her." It surprised me that I was defending someone I never met.

"Who would want to see the face of an Insane?" Howard raised one of his thick eyebrows. I shrugged, getting agitated with our conversation already.

The TV went black. We all turned around to face the Warden, Mr. Radford. He was a short, round, and oily faced man who inherited the place from his father who inherited the place from his grandfather and so on. "I didn't know when I let lolly-gaggin on the job not be an issue. Get your asses to work! This is The White House! We never slack! Our new patients will arrive after lunch time and we have to be ready!"

We all dispersed and walked out of the locker room, murmuring breaking out immediately once we were all clear from the Warden's ears.

"...Can you believe we're getting her?", "Alexander Wickers...", "Wonder whose gonna get her as an assignment?" Were the main topics I picked up on when Howard and I would walk past people to our section of the Institution.

"Are you okay? You haven't said anything about her after we left the locker room." Howard asked, opening the door that had bold black letters saying, Therapy.

"They never showed her face." I pointed out, "That's not like Reporters to not even have a single picture of her, not even a picture of her when she was abducted."

"Like I said before, who wants to see the face of a psychotic murder," He saw the anger rising in my face and quickly added, "Okay maybe the family didn't want her face shown." Howard shrugged, grabbing a cup of coffee.

"Maybe," I sighed, walking off to my little white office, then stopping to say, "Or maybe they don't want her to be found by the family."