Crestwood Psychiatric Hospital continued its usual morning business. Nurses and orderlies performed their daily checks with patients, doctors met with families to discuss available treatments, and the place remained busy. Some people were checking in, others were checking out.
Outside, the surrounding woods swayed softly in the wind. Gold, red, brown, and orange leaves were falling onto the road, letting small patches of gravel peek through. The sun was out, shining brightly in the sky; Canadian geese were flying south to warmer weather, sparrows fluttered about, and a few small herds of deer could be seen from the distance.
On the third floor of Red ward's corridor, the patient in Room 346 started to rock back and forth in her bed. A slow sinister smile appeared on Nicole Whelan's face, and she began to whisper.
"Eight."
YOU ARE READING
Seven
رعبThe strange girl who constantly rocks back and forth in the Red ward, why does she keep muttering a single number? Cover image from: Esteban Dario Grinbank
