Chaotic (sequel to Psychotic)

Chapter 2

MRS. HELLMAN

Some asked if I was afraid. If I was worried. Most only asked about them, but a few had asked about me. About my son. As much as the eventful night had been attempted at being contained, word managed to get out. Three patients had escaped, two of which were among our most dangerous. That made headlines, that made people talk. That's why dozens or reporters and photographers lined themselves up along the outside of Wickendale merely a day after the "escape." Cameras were flashed in my face while questions were shouted in my ears. "How did these patients escape Wickendale?" "Does the girl that escaped have any personal relations to Harry Styles?" "Do you think that Harry Styles will continue to murder women now that he's escaped?" "There's been rumors a third patient escaped, is this true?" "Are you afraid that more patients will escape in the future?"

All kinds of questions came my way, all of which I refused to answer. Except for the one about me being afraid; I was not afraid. If anything, only a little concerned about my reputation. Not afraid, though. With the deep cliff behind the forest in the back, I can't believe they would have made it very far. There is no way they could've outsmarted my employees, my guards, me. They had died in the cold, on that cliff, from dehydration, from Madeline. I was not worried, because I doubted that they had succeeded in their "escape," like so many reporters had assumed.

But even with this confidence, something told me that I was not finished with Rose and Harry just yet. So I continued to hunt them down.

ROSE'S POV

Harry and I had invented a game. Well, Harry had done most of the inventing, but I had contributed somewhat.

We used it to keep ourselves occupied when our feet ached and our throats were dry and our breathing had long since been able to supply our lungs with enough air, and our bodies physically refused to let us run any longer. Hours went by and finally that time came. It was vital that we slowed to a walk. The oxygen in the air caught up to us and we were able to use enough of it to talk. And that is when the game came in handy.

We would pick a category like books or movies or fruit, and then guess each others favorite thing in that category. Whoever got it right would receive a point. Every few questions or so we would get distracted with stories or curiosities, but we continued while we passed the thick pine trees. It may have sounded silly, but it helped us think of anything but Wickendale or the police or our nonexistent plan. And besides, through this we realized we didn't actually know that much about each other. I mean, I knew Harry better than anyone, but the amount of things I knew about him, the little facts like his favorite songs or what he likes to eat for breakfast, was limited.

So I liked this game. And the way his eyes lit up and his smile grew wide while he talked about his favorite things made me fall in love with him more and more with every question.

"It's a no-brainer. Nobody in their right mine could possibly choose that Lost Horizon shit over Gatsby," Harry had been explaining after the "favorite book" question had been asked. Once upon a time we had discussed this in Wickendale's library, but never finished the conversation.

"How are you so sure?" I asked him. "Have you ever even read it?"

He took a moment, thinking of a reply. "No. Have you ever even read The Great Gatsby?"

"No," I said reluctantly. "Weren't we supposed to do that though? Trade off books from the library at the institution?"

Even though it had been only a few weeks ago, the memory had long since drifted from my mind.

"Oh yeah," Harry said. "Looks like were gonna have to go back and get them."

I couldn't help but burst out laughing at the thought. "You know we really should, I already miss Ms. Hellman."