The bell in the antique grandfather clock of the rec room of the psych ward struck twelve. It was time for your appointment. That was good. You actually liked your visits with Dr. Ophelia (officially, she was Dr. Ophelia Garten, but she preferred “Dr. Ophelia”). She was a very attentive […]
I first noticed it three weeks ago. I’d been playing video games with my friends, and when I went to talk into the mic, it was there. I coughed a bit, and then swallowed hard, trying to force the hair in my throat up or wash it down, but it
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Yesterday… …And we’re back in five… four… three… two… one… [talk-show host] Greg, tell us your thoughts about the movie; the release is only three days after the anniversary of your wife’s death. How are you coping? Do you plan to go see it? I’m not here to talk about
I This wall once held a chalkboard. The one behind me displayed a map of the United States with big red stars indicating state capitals. In the corner to my right, there was an old-fashioned, spinning globe – it was the type that my grandfather had in his furnished basement.
LiVE THE DREAM These words flashed before Caitlin Neil’s closed eyes on her red-eye flight back to Los Angeles. It wasn’t home, but her so-called base. Her name wasn’t even Caitlin Neil. Nevertheless, as the Company had promised her, she had come to like both. Until now. “Hello. This is
Excerpt from a letter received by Governor Irvish Jackson and sent by Dr. Wilford Bellenshamp on December 17th, 1985: I have seen that despite my personal attendance in the past few months to each and all inquiries in the investigation of Orin Harley that not a single report has been
The days all started with the briefing room—a wall-to-wall palette of aged pastels and stark, hospital grayness. In the center of our little room, an oval-shaped table dominated the space with every seat filled with a tired nurse. From one of the windows, a bar of morning light often slipped
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When James and Linda Scott welcomed the arrival of their first daughter Ella Marie. Nothing seemed to be better. The pregnancy was a text book scenario. Nine months of classes, preparing a room and eagerness for her to arrive all seemed to go swimmingly. Linda was wonderful and the birth
I stare at the corpse in the mirror. How desperately the dry, clay-colored skin clings to its skull. Rubbery. How narrow its tired eyes are, weighed down by the dark satchels hanging from them. How many broken vessels I could count beneath its sullen cheeks. A nebula of spider veins.
Excerpt from a letter received by Governor Irvish Jackson and sent by Dr. Wilford Bellenshamp on December 17th, 1985: I have seen that despite my personal attendance in the past few months to each and all inquiries in the investigation of Orin Harley that not a single report has been
Said to be christened Apa Moarta, or ‘Dead Water’, by a passing Romanian caravan in their native tongue, and tucked away in a far-flung, scarcely populated, staunchly isolationist region of untouched Russian countryside…beyond the grotesque, fantastical stories shared by the more ignorant and morbid of the younger generations, there’s not
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It was around two years ago that I first found the files. There were twenty of them, carefully arranged and bound up inside brown paper folders, each one stamped and dated, each a marvel unto itself and each hidden away from the world until the day that someone would unwittingly
In light of recent events, I think it is my public duty to share what I know about this case and the person it pertains to, patient confidentiality be damned. My name is Doctor Ian Liang. I am a psychiatrist at the St. Christina Institute for the Mentally Disturbed in
There’s a famous quote by Robert Evans, “There are three sides to a story. Yours, mine, and the truth.” In my line of work, you come to realize that the truth is rarely an objective perspective. For example, a bloody fight is the result of an argument. One side claims
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January 6th, 2021, probably one of America’s darkest days. If you haven’t heard, on January 6th, a mob of people broke into the US Capitol building in an attempt to stop the confirmation of the 2020 election. This in and of itself is a horrifying concept, especially for Americans, since
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My hometown is residence to a large, and long abandoned, psychiatric hospital. Its official name was the Johnathan H. Murnow Regional Psychiatric Hospital (named after the founder). Everyone else that didn’t work there called it “Murnow’s Mental Hospital.” It’s the same story as any large hospital in the U.S. that
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I never remember feeling sick. Just a sudden headache, and my dog barking as I collapsed to the ground. The world had vanished beneath my feet, and my consciousness was trapped in darkness, disconnected from my body. For what felt like an eternity, I floated through the emptiness of the
”Am I going to die?” The kid asked me as he was being rolled into the operating theater. It was a question I’d heard a thousand times before, but answering it truthfully hadn’t become any easier, even after years at the hospital. ”Of course not, we’re gonna fix you right
The road had been covered in a dense fog. Denise decided to rent a room for the night, seeing as she had parked near an unfamiliar hotel. She got out of her car, looking around for any signs of an entrance within the grey haze. A small light broke through
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My wife and I moved into our new apartment just a few months ago. Before this, we lived in a large cottage overlooking a beautiful lake. It was my wife’s dream home for the three years we lived there. We didn’t want to leave, but it was a necessary step
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She tried pulling herself back, but however hard she tried, however hard she pushed, she could not stop her feet dragging her towards the open window. She dug her heels into the wooden floor, feeling splinters coming off it as her feet dragged her onward. Her hands caught the window-sill,
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“Alright, let’s get this started. Incision time, 9:45,” a manly voice said loudly, jolting me awake. I felt groggy, and my eyes were kept shut by tape covering my eyelids. I tried to call out for help, but quickly realised I couldn’t form any words, nor move a single muscle.
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This week, I was supposed to digitize all of Dr. Marnen’s patient files. I was feeling good about my progress when I saw it. A second filing cabinet, hiding behind the shelves, that I’d never noticed before. Sighing with fatigue, I yanked open the first drawer. I plucked out a
I had nightmares about the place for weeks. Every time, it was exactly the same. I stood before a large oak tree, alone, in a vast field of dead grass. Roots from the tree wove in and out of the dirt, far from their source, twisting in unnatural ways. Its
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