Escape from an Amityville Horror

[Guest]

I’m laying on my back on my bed, flipping through the leather-bound book that I was given before leaving the island. It’s one of many of my mom’s research notebooks, a product of her many hours and sometimes even days spent researching the oddity that is the mundane world. She has dozens of these leather-bound books, at least. This one though, the one that she gave me to help me on this, my first mission, has everything she’s ever read, heard, seen, or experienced of mental institutions. In America. She has a few more of these from other locations in the world, but it was difficult smuggling just this one book in, just as I knew it would be. I didn’t want to risk bringing more.

I glance over at the bed on the other side of the room. It stands empty, as it has for the past few months that I’ve been here. I’m probably one of the only “inpatients” without a roommate. I prefer it that way, though. It’s much easier to keep secrets when I don’t have to share my room with someone.

I hear someone coming down the hall – a nurse or an orderly, I can’t be sure – and I check the sky, the position of the sun. It’s lunch time, I realize. I sigh, closing the book as I roll off the bed, crouching down on the floor beside it. There’s a loose floorboard under the bed, and that’s where I’ve been keeping this book hidden.

By the time the door opens and an orderly pokes his head in to tell me that it’s lunch time, the book is well hidden and I’m laying on my back on the bed again. I sit up, putting my feet on the ground, and get out of the bed with much less speed and swiftness than I did just a moment ago. This place annoys me, and I’m finding a hard time finding the kind of people I’m looking for here. The entire point of me being here is to find the ones who don’t belong – the ones with real magic, or the Sight, or maybe even falsely accused – so I can get them out. This place is supposed to be one of the most suspicious asylums in the world, and while the treatment of the inpatients has been horrid indeed, I haven’t yet found any proof of real magic or anything.

I shuffle my way ahead of the orderly and to the dull cafeteria. I’m supposed to be half-drugged. They give me pills every morning and never realize that I’ve been cheeking them and spitting them out in a washroom sink every time.

I get the slop that passes for food around here, and I sit at a table, taking care to keep my movements slow and sluggish. By the time I sit down, a fight’s broken out between two of the more volatile inpatients, and the focus is far from on me. While the orderlies and nurses in the room are distracted, I take this chance again to scan the mass of people who I temporarily share this building with.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Today felt different. So different that, after a month of silence in resistance to the nurses attitudes, Hally O`Hanson spoke. Granted, she had insulted today's nurse as she informed her of meal time, but she spoke nonetheless. Five years in this place could really do something to a girl. She didn't know much of the outside world, since a third of her life had been spent at Amityville. Eventually, they had stopped giving her the medicine Doctor's had prescribed, concluding she didn't really need them as much as other patients. Though, Hally knew the truth.

Her usual nurse stole her medication, pocketing it to sell who knew where. Hally didn't care. She didn't like what the medicine did to her colors. It made them blend together into a mushy mess. Hally was glad she only had to take it on days Doctor's visited her. Which had become less and less frequently. Even her parents eventually stopped visiting. She knew what they thought - she knew what everyone thought of her.

And she knew they were wrong to think that way.

The only ones who didn't judge her were the others trapped in this place. She knew many of them were misunderstood. Others, though, were as red as the man she killed. Hally couldn't do anything about those people now, but one day, she might have a chance. It was all that got her through being in the Asylum. The colors telling her the stories of the others like her, of doing bad things for good reason.

Tapping brought her out of her thoughts. The nurse had been speaking, but Hally wasn't listening. "Yes, I'm coming," she spoke almost too happily. This was usual for her, making the best out of her situation. It was all she really knew, and it was normal.

Exiting her room after the nurse, Hally began to skip down the hall towards the cafeteria. Waiting impatiently in line, Hally observed the tables, looking for someone to sit with. Oooh, how about him? She asked herself, admiring a boy about her age with an aura of a color she couldn't describe unless she had more focus. Shuffling down the line, Hally finally got her plate of whatever this mush was. She missed fish sticks. Those were her favorite.

Making her way over to the boy, Hally noticed he was acting funny. Like the others who took their medicine.. but she knew better. "I think you're a liar." She accused, sitting down across from him. "And why are you that color? I've never seen it before. It's pretty." She nodded after making her statement, staring at the space around and above him.

[Guest]

To add to the effect of me being a supposedly cooperative inmate in this prison, I make my movements twitchy and almost wild. I have to force back a smile though, tempted to laugh at myself.

I stop it all though as the girl approaches me and accuses me of being a liar. “I’m not a liar,” I say automatically. Then I look the girl up and down. I’ve seen her around before, but she’s never really done or said anything to indicate that she doesn’t belong here. For the past few months that I’ve been here, actually, she hasn’t said a single word that I’ve noticed. But she’s talking now, and she’s asking me why I’m the color that I am. I don’t know what color I am, but I do understand immediately what she’s talking about. She can see my aura.

I smirk, my act as a drugged impatient forgotten. “My mom says people with screwy stories get screwy colors, cause we’re screwy in the head. I’m Stitch. And you’re…” I try to remember the names and faces from the files I read over before coming here. “Hally O’Hanson,” I remember after a moment. “You killed your therapist when you were ten, and put glitter on his corpse.”

[Hally O`Hanson]

"It's like a sunset. The last rays of light on the horizon. I like to watch from my window.." Trailing off, she realized he had spoken. "Oh. Hally, yes. And I only killed him because the colors told me to.. And the glitter is what I see in the colors, I thought I could show them what I see.. it didn't work." Hally babbled, still focusing on the colors surrounding Stitch.

Hally took a bite of her mashed potatoes, waited a moment, then continued. "They say you're not here because of your health.. So, I win! You're a liar." She gave the boy a big smile, then frowned as she began to really concentrate on his colors.

"You.. You're like me.." she stuttered, unsure what exactly that meant. Deep in his center was a midnight purple. A color she remembered seeing once on a unicorn poster. It was a mystical and magical color. She knew she had it, but she'd never been able to tell what it meant. Maybe he could explain..

[Guest]

I frown slightly in surprise. I’ve never been compared to a sunset before. Is that a good or bad thing, I wonder? I sigh and roll my eyes when she calls me a liar again. There’s a difference between lying and Hiding. I don’t lie, nobody in my family does. I haven’t lied since before my mom adopted me.

I shake my head, picking at my food but not eating anything. I rarely do. “Not exactly like you.” I glance around, making sure there’s nobody close enough to overhear. But anyone who’s not wrapped up in the chaos of the fight – the staff trying to break it up, the inpatients watching and yelling and cheering – is too drugged up to know we’re even here. “I can’t see auras like you can. I’m not a Reader like you. I’m a Puppeteer.” I glance at her, and realize from the look on her face that she doesn’t know. She doesn’t really know what she is, does she? “Blast,” I swear under my breath, hating this place and mundanes for a moment. She’s been locked up in this place, committed just because the mundanes don’t know what we are, or know but refuse to accept.

Stupidly, I let my frustration and hatred get the best of me for a moment, and let the invisible strings extend from my fingertips, my glasses melting into the marks around my eyes as they do. My strings snap out, wrapping around the bars around the windows and I yank my hand back. The bars flay off the wall, bringing chucks of the wall with it. Dust and pieces of brick fly through the air in the room as the bars drop to the ground, my strings disappearing again and my marks turning into glasses. It all happens in only the time it takes to blink.

[Hally O`Hanson]

"Auras..? A Reader? Puppeteer? What're those?" Hally took another bite of her mash potatoes, patiently waiting for him to explain more. She frowned as Stitch's aura began to take on a tint of the red shade she hated so much. So many people turned red too often, but for many the red did not stick, which Hally was thankful for. Hally chose to never let herself turn red unless she was faced with a crimson red.

As the red in Stitch spiked, Hally tipped the food off of her tray, swinging it up to protect her head as the wall imploded. "Cool.." she breathed out, peeking over the tray at the now open window. Hally grinned, turning back to face her new friend. "You did that?" She whispered before chaos had a chance to break out in the asylum. For a moment, everyone's auras turned the sickly yellow-green Hally associated with fear and confusion. This had never happened before. "Can I do that, too?" Hally couldn't remember the last time she was this excited.

[Guest]

With that out of my system, I calm down almost instantly. When I was little I thought I’d always be scared, or angry, or hating. But since my mom adopted me, I’ve found it completely impossible to hold on to any negative emotions for longer than few minutes. I look at Hally, how she’s holding up her tray, and I look at the food now splattered on the table. I narrow my eyes slightly, resisting the urge to start a food fight. I could do that at home. But here, I’d probably get injected and have to fake passing out. Then I’d have to be carried back to my room, and that would mean people touching me. And I don’t like people touching me.

I shake my head when Hally asks if she can do that, “No, I—“ My words are cut off as I’m pulled out of my seat. My eyes widen and I panic, and it takes everything in me not to freak out and go on the attack as I’m slammed against a wall and searched. Now that I’m paying attention to everyone else, I realize they think someone put a small explosive at the window. They want to know who, so they’re searching everyone to see who did it. Of course, they’re angry when they don’t find any explosives, or anything dangerous, so they send us all back to our rooms, or solitary for a few. They separate us all any way they can and lock us all away. I slam my fists against the door in frustration, my heart pounding.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Hally dropped her tray as her arms were grabbed and pulled backwards, effectively removing her from her seat. Huffing, she glared as she was searched by two orderlies, and grew impatient as their auras began to redden. She knew they were not going to find whatever it was they were looking for. It had been magic that broke the window. Stitch's magic.

Hally rushed down the hall after the orderlies were done with her, meeting a nurse at the door to her room. Peeking in, her roommate had already returned from wherever she'd been. Hally didn't know this one very well. The last one had gotten "removed" and replaced in her last month of silence. Sitting on her own bed, Hally looked at her roommate, who looked back at her. No doubt the nurse informed her I was speaking again. "You're the misty green of grass by the water." Aly nodded curtly, stood, and walked to the window. If her roommate had said anything, she hadn't heard it, lost in her own thoughts.

Stitch. I need to speak with him again. Maybe the lock down would only last until dinner. Or outside time. Hally didn't understand, but she knew he wasn't crazy. Not like the other people here. He was telling the real truth.

[Guest]

I stand with my fists and head against the door for a while, breathing heavily, my eyes closed, trying to calm myself down. I’m fine. Nothing happened. I’m alone now, I’m okay, I keep telling myself. Fear’s the only negative emotion that lingers longer than few minutes, and I only feel fear when I’m touched.

I don’t know how long it takes me to calm down. Time in the asylum seems to never end here. Finally, I push myself away from the door and kneel down beside the bed. Thankful that I don’t have a roommate, I pull out my mom’s book. I don’t open it to read though. I lay on my side on the bed, hugging the book to my chest, closing my eyes again. I miss my mom and dad. I miss my brothers and sisters. I miss the island.

The lockdown doesn’t end that day. We go without dinner, our outside time is skipped. I wonder if this will be another period where we’re locked in our rooms for multiple days at a time. It wouldn’t be the first time, even since I got here. I suspect this place is understaffed, and the lockdowns are the only time off that the staff get. So they take advantage of it, leaving us for longer than they should, just so they could get a day or two, or maybe even three, off.

“I shouldn’t have left…” I whisper. “I miss you.” And I’m not sure who I’m talking to, which person in my family. Maybe I’m talking them all. And I wonder if mom’s watching me. She had crystals everywhere on the island. Who’s to say she didn’t have one follow me here? Or her falcon? I want to look, but my room is one without a window, so I can’t. I want to go home. Send the signal to end this mission, say that there’s no one of interest here. I almost do.

But then I remember Hally. If nothing else, she doesn’t belong here. She has a true gift. Like I do, like everyone on the island does. And she’s been locked away for it just because mundanes have always refused to accept what can’t be scientifically proven.

Anger and hatred rise up again in me, surprising me. This place was making me dark, I realize. It’s turning me evil.

Lockdown finally ends just in time for dinner the next day. This time of year, outside time is after dinner. Outside, I can look for mom’s falcon.

As I hear all the other doors being unlocked and everyone else being ushered to the cafeteria, I hide my book and rush to my door, ready to be out of the confined of this room. But my door never opens. My door never unlocks. No orderly comes to lead me to the cafeteria. I slam both my fists into the door again, just as hard as I did yesterday, and this time pain shoots through them. I’ve bruised myself, at least. But I don’t care. This was a horrible idea. A mistake.

I turn to press my back against the door, sliding down to sit on the cold tile floor, and hug my knees to my chest. There’s nothing I can do right now. Nothing but wait, and hope.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Hally couldn't sleep. Usually, that's what she did during the lock downs. She hated them.. Hally hated how they made her colors change if she couldn't sleep. Yellows, greens, blues.. Colors that made her sad and afraid.

It seemed like it had been forever when they finally opened the doors, forcing Hally and her roommate out of their room and towards the cafeteria. She considered throwing another fit of silence, but she wanted to speak to Stitch more. She'd never met anyone like him. Especially at Amityville. They were all eally crazy, or really red.. She hated the red people, they didn't belong here. Hally avoided them, but that was sometimes difficult. Especially times like these, she thought as many patients were seated in the cafeteria. She went through the extremely slow line, as orderlies and nurses were being overly observant.

Frowning, Hally took a seat near the back, and looked for Stitch. Why wasn't he here?

[Guest]

After what seems like ages of silence on the other side of the door, I hear footsteps approaching. Heavy, slow, methodical. Still sitting against the door, I narrow my eyes at the opposite wall. The footsteps stop in front of my door. I don’t move yet, continuing to listen. There’s the jingle of keys. Then the sounds of metal on metal. My door’s being unlocked. I push myself away from the door, spinning easily to my feet.

When the door opens, I’m standing in the middle of the room. Before I can say or even think anything, two orderlies walk in and grab me. My fear flares up in an instant, and this time I’m stupid enough to let it take me. I try to fight them. I pull myself out of the one orderly’s grip and shove the other one as far away from me as I can. Someone, a nurse who came in while I was getting the orderlies off me, probably, injects me. I feel the prick of the needle in my neck.

Fake it, I tell myself. All I have to do is close my eyes and go limp. But then they’ll have to touch me again. So I don’t. Not this time. The tension and fear, anger and hatred, it’s all increasing inside me. I’m losing control, and somewhere in my mind, I know that, and I know that I have to start calming myself down again. I can’t blow this mission.

I don’t come back into my own mind though until it’s too late. A door slams shut, the bolts thrown locked, and I look around to realize I’m alone in a solitary cell. “Blast,” I swear under my breath, running both hands through my hair in frustration. Though I’m alone in my own room too, the solitary rooms are even less furnished. There’s nothing but a cot in the middle of the room. The floors and walls, even the ceiling, are slightly padded. I sigh. “Brilliant,” I mumble to myself, sitting down on the cot – which is also padded. I look at the door. The doors to solitary, unlike the ones to our regular rooms, have thick glass panes about a foot wide and four or five inches tall, so the nurses or orderlies can easily check in on us while they’re making their rounds.

I stand up and walk over to the door. It can’t be opened from the inside, I already know that because I’ve been in here before. But I can see through the thick, probably bullet-proof, glass. One of this ward’s doctors is standing in the middle of the hallway, watching me. I narrow my eyes at him. I know what you are, his eyes seem to say. Gasping, I stumble back, getting away from the door as quickly as I can. The backs of my knees bump into the cot, and I fall onto it, quickly scrambling back until I’m standing on the other side of the room, as far away from the door as I can get. “Blast!” I swear again. This could be very damaging to my mission.

After a few minutes, I slowly approach the door again, looking out. The doctor’s gone. The hallway’s empty. I’m completely alone. And now, I’m glad for it. I sit back down on the cot. My glasses melt into the marks around my eyes, and strings shoot from my fingertips as I sew my own mouth shut.

Silencing myself gives me the ability to speak into other people’s minds, something that my mom doubts any other puppeteer has ever been able to do. Smirking, I search the asylum for Hally’s mind. Once I find her voice, I speak into her mind.

“Well, that didn’t go like I hoped.”

[Hally O`Hanson]

"What was that?" Hally asked aloud, looking back and forth between the others who'd sat at the table with her. None of them seemed to be paying attention.. Huh, weird. It had kind of sounded like Stitch, but he wasn't here.. Where was he?

Hally decided she was going to find out. She think she knew where is room was, maybe he wasn't feeling well. Going up to a nurse who could care less about where she was, Hally complained of a stomach ache and asked to go to her room. Sneaking off was a skill she'd improved while in the asylum, and it definitely wasn't hard for nurses and orderlies to ignore her. As if they cared.

Hally walked down the hall she thought Stitch lived in, and studied each label beside the door trying to find his room. She didn't know his last name, though. This was harder than she though.

[Guest]

I can’t help but laugh a little bit when she speaks aloud. I don’t say anything else to her for a minute, closing my eyes and sewing them shut so that I can see through her eyes. “You’re going the wrong way,” I speak into her mind again. “My room’s down the opposite hall. But I’m not in my room.” I stop, thinking that I can hear something out in the hallway. I pull my legs up onto the bed and turn my back on the door so that any nurse or orderly or doctor who looks through the window into my room won’t be able to see the black seams holding my eyes and lips shut. I stay silent, in every way, and completely still as I listen to footsteps in the hallway. I hear them getting closer to my door, but then I hear them pass. A routine check, probably. Or someone on their way to Dr. Burnstien’s office. His is the one on the other end of this solitary hallway.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Hally nods as the voice speaks again. Stitch? She thought, Can you hear me? Am I doing this right? Thinking, Hally wondered where else he could be. Not in the cafeteria, not outside, not his room.. Are you in solitary? Why did they put you in there? She couldn't exactly expect to bust him out. She wasn't exactly a body of bulk - especially not the way they fed people here. She had only grown a couple of inches since she'd been admitted, and she was pretty thin for her age. "What should I do?" She spoke aloud.

[Guest]

I almost smile at her unsureness, and then sigh at her last questions. “They put me in solitary because one of the doctors knows I’m the one that busted the window. I don’t know how long I’ll be in here. Hopefully not that long.” I pause, listening again. The hallway outside is empty through. I lay back on the bed, my feet by the only pillow, and lace my fingers together behind my head. “I’m getting hungry.” I add, almost idly. “Go back to the cafeteria. Just do everything like nothing’s wrong. I’ll get out of here eventually. Then we can figure out how to get ourselves out of this mess.”

I’m not very good at hiding my emotions aloud. This is the first time I’ve really used my telepathic ability this much, and I wonder if she can hear it in my mental voice, how homesick and sad I am. I hope not. Hally is in here for a real reason. She has enough problems. I’m supposed to be here to help fix the problems, not to add more where they’re not needed.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Hally's colors began to turn shades of deep-ocean blue as Stitch's voice projected in her mind. She knew he was upset. Hey, it'll be okay.. I've been here a long time, it gets easier.. Hally didn't know his story, figuring he was upset because of the window issue and solitary. How did he know? She projected.

Hally thought that was odd, it happened so fast, and she didn't think anyone had been watching. Hally made her way to the door to outside instead of the cafeteria. When she was at home, she always loved being outside and playing on her swing set.. They didn't have a swing set here.

Instead, Hally would sneak to the very edge the orderlies didn't typically watch too well, and grab a loose rock. She'd discovered that if she marked the concrete with the rock, it left marks like chalk. At the door, Hally was signed out by the 'guard' who stood there making sure 'protocol was followed'. He may be the only one here who tried to do his job well. Giving him a smile, Hally waited as he pushed the door open for her, then made her way out, taking in the sunshine. "I love being outside." She spoke to herself, though she knew Stitch could probably hear here anyways.

[Guest]

I shake my head at her question, but I don’t respond right away. I can hear anything in her mind right now, but she can only hear what I let her hear. I don’t answer her for a few minutes, just thinking of home. Mom was nervous when she gave me this mission. She didn’t want me to go. She tried to hide it, but I could tell. Because mom, usually so strong and stoic, impossible to shake…her voice had cracked somewhere along the lines of explaining to me what this task was. “I don’t know. He must be a Hunter, or a Collector. He probably has the Sight…” part of me realizes that I’m saying things and using words that she probably doesn’t understand. But even though I’m projecting my words to her, I’m also more talking to myself than anything. “He’s going to be a pain to avoid from now on. I didn’t recognize him either, so that’s a bad sign. He’s definitely looking for us. Blast.” I swore again. Then I wonder, when did I start swearing so much? I sigh. This place is doing bad things to me, I can feel it, and I hate it. But if I back out now, on my first mission, I’ll never hear the end of it, even on the island.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Hally let Stitch explain, though it wasn't really helping her end. Just stay positive, okay? She didn't know what she could do to help her new friend, so tried distracting him from the current situation instead. How did you get admitted here, anyways? She didn't remember him saying anything about it in all the excitement.

Kneeling on the ground at the edge of the yard, Hally began to scrape her rock along the asphalt, creating a swirling pattern and imagining colors filling in the space. She wished she could have her crayons and markers and even her glitter.

[Guest]

How was I admitted? I smirk at this question. “I wasn’t.” I reply simply. I listen to outside the room for a moment, letting that answer just hang between us for a minute. I wait footsteps go from one end of the hall to the other, then leave. Finally, I continue. “I came here voluntarily, to look for people like us so that I can get them out of here. I’ve been here for almost five months, and you’re the first one I’ve found. I was starting to think there were none in this place. I suppose it’s just me and you then. We’ll wait a while though, maybe a month or two…” I suppress a groan at being stuck here another month or two. But, there’s no helping it, is there? I willingly took the mission. I asked for it, even. “Not my best idea…” I accidently say to Hally, since I can’t speak aloud. I shake my head and continue my original thought process. “If we don’t find anyone, we’ll go ahead and break out.”

[Hally O`Hanson]

Break out!? What do you mean break out? What!? Hally was honestly shocked and surprised by what he'd said. She never imagined breaking out of this place. She'd assumed she had belonged here.. It's what everyone said for years.. Stitch didn't think so, though. And Hally trusted Stitch. What's the plan? Where would we go? There were so many things going through her mind, Hally just kept asking questions. Where are you from? Maybe I can help you now? We have a special color.. A purple, right in the center of the other colors.

[Guest]

I can’t help but almost laugh at her reaction to my mention of breaking out. That entertainment fades though when I realize the reason it’s so shocking to her: she’s always been told by the mundanes that this was where she belonged, locked in a penitentiary that’s supposed to be meant for people who need real help. Not for people who have real magic. I answer her questions backwards, starting with the one about the color. She’s the first aura reader I knew – well, that wasn’t completely true because my mom and her blood kids are part everything and can do everything, but they usually pick a specialty and lock up the rest of their abilities so they never lose even the slightest bit of control. “That’s our magic,” I tell her. “That part of us that makes us different than everyone else in this place, the reason that you’re here. It’s one of the things that marks us as different than the mundanes, or even the normals. Mom says we have magic in our blood. That color is the magic. I’m from Promise Island. It’s filled with people like us and normals. Normals are humans with no real magic except the Sight, the ability to see through the Veil, see magic even as we try to hide it. A normal would have been able to see my strings if their Sight’s advanced enough, even though they were invisible. That’s where we’d go when we get out of here. Because, this place, the moment they find out we’re gone, they’d call the police or something. Label us criminally insane and dangerous, and we’ll be hunted down and hauled back, and treated a lot worse than we are now.” Especially if I’m right about that new doctor being a Collector. But I don’t tell her that part. There’s no point in worrying her about things that she doesn’t need to worry about. “I don’t know the plan yet. I’m still working on that part.” Or maybe part of me is just still hoping my mom’s falcon will show up with a plan for me. “But first, I have to find out who this doctor is. See you in a few minutes.”

I brush my thumb across my lips and my eyelids, across the seams I now have there, causing them to dissolve. The marks on my eyes turn into my glasses again, and only a moment later, the door to my solitary room finally opens. I don’t even know how long I’ve been in here.

I don’t bother sitting up, I just angle my head back to look at the orderly who’s opened the door. He winks at me, and I smirk. Illegal solitary break. Just my style. And orderlies have the advantage of being right in the middle of all the mixed communication, so if anyone asks, he could easy say that someone told him to do it.

I sit up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “Outside time,” he tells me. I nod, not telling him that I already know. I’d seen through Hally’s mind and eyes that she was outside.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Promise Island? If Hally couldn't read is colors, she might think Stitch was as crazy as he sounded. She was going to continue asking questions, but sensed he was gone from her mind now. Oh well, he said he'd be here soon, so she could continue when he got outside. She was beginning to get excited.

Escape.. She never thought she would be released from this place. Part of her was scared, too. She could barely remember her life before she'd come to Amityville, it felt like so long ago. It had been a long time.. Too long.. Looking through the fence, Hally sighed. She wanted to run through the grass, pick flowers, do whatever they wouldn't let her do here. It was hard when Hally had arrived here five years ago, but it was true what she had told Stitch. It did get easier.

Hally turned to face the door so she would be able to see Stitch when he got here. In the mean time, she kept scraping her rock on the concrete to make a rainbow shape.

[Guest]

The halls are empty, since all the inpatients are outside. That gives the staff time to do whatever they want. And that gives me time to do whatever I want. I sneak to the main nurses station, peeking around a corner to see if there’s anyone there. Annoyingly, there is one nurse there. But her back is turned to me, as she watches some show on her computer. Keeping an eye on her, my eyes scan the desk, and the corkboard wall behind it, looking for information on the doctors. After a moment, I see it.

I don’t have time to wait until a couple fools start throwing punches or someone starts a screaming fit or something. So, for the third time in only two days, I let my glasses melt into the marks around my eyes. This is the first time I’ve used my abilities this much, this often, since I’ve been here. So much for trying to behave, I smirk to myself, as the threads shoot from my fingertips, invisible to all but me, and reach out to snatch the doctor’s info off the corkboard wall. Hearing the flutter of paper, the nurse turns, but the paper’s already in my hand and I’ve ducked around the corner with it. I shove it in my pocket, not bothering to look at it yet.

Then I finally make my way to the courtyard, easily finding Hally in one corner, drawing with her chalk rocks like she always does. I walk over to her, passing the smoking or reading nurses that are supposed to be keeping an eye on us, and sit down against the fence beside her, my eyes trained on the sky to see if my mom’s mechanical falcon is up there.

[Hally O`Hanson]

Hally smiled at Stitch as he finally got outside. She watched him closely, admiring the pretty sunset color of his.. aura, as he'd called it. "What are you looking for?" She asked curiously, looking up at the sky with him. Nothing appeared to pop out at her, so Hally looked back at the ground and the pretty swirling mural she'd developed. She now began to scratch puffy round shapes with her rock, attempting to create clouds. "Did you find out who the doctor was? The bad one?" She asked, a bit hesitant.

[Guest]

“Ahh…” When Hally asks me what I’m looking for, I hesitate, though I really have no idea why. “My mom has a mechanical falcon that she uses as a messenger sometimes,” I end up telling her. “I was just wondering if she sent it.” I don’t know how well I hide my disappointment that it looks like she didn’t send it after all. I sigh, dropping my gaze from the sky and pulling the sheet of paper out of my pocket. “I don’t know who that doctor is, but I’m about to find out. This is the schedule for all the doctors here. It has their office hours and what day they have off, so it has their names to. I know the names of all the other doctors here, so it’ll be easy to figure out which one he is. He’ll be the only name I don’t recognize.” I scan the paper for a minute, reading down the list of doctor names. After a minute, I swear under my breath. “Blast. This isn’t good… Look,” I point to the name about halfway through the list. “This has to be him. Dr. Lovelace. I know that last name. They’re a famous Hunting and Collecting family. They find people like us and they lock us in cages or something to be put on display. And Dr. Burnstien’s name isn’t on this list anymore. That means he’s replaced Dr. Burnstien as the head of this ward. Blast.” I sigh and hit the back of my head lightly against the side of the building I’m sitting against. This complicates things.

[Sponsored content]