Juliet blinked a couple of times, her vision was still spotty from hitting her head as the men who had pushed their way into her room tried to wrestle her down the stairs. She had been sitting on her bed, headphones in, wondering what it was like to be touched inappropriately without having given consent. It sounded intriguing to her, but the latest case she'd heard about in the news, the girl obviously hadn't felt the same way. All of a sudden her door was thrown open and three men in white coats had stormed in, two of them grabbing one of her arms while the third was trying to get his arms around her legs. She wasn't planning on going without a fight so she drew a leg back and then socked it at the man by her waist's face.
"MOM!" She shrieked as she attempted to rip her arms free. The men had tightened their arms around her when she'd kicked their associate.
"DAD!"Over her thrashing, she could have sworn she heard movement from the bottom of the stairs and what even sounded like her mom forcing back a sob. It was clear no one was going to help her. She had yanked one last time against the men, hard, and managed to get free. She hopped out of bed and made a run for the door when the guy she had kicked over earlier grabbed one of her ankles and she fell, smacking her head.
Then everything had gone black.
Now, when she had cleared her eyes with a few shakes of her head and had propped herself up on her elbows, it seemed that she was in some sort of padded cell.
"Where am I?" She wondered out loud.
It had been one whole month since he'd been whisked away to Meadowbrooke and as awful as it was, he really couldn't complain because it had gotten him away from his father. Every day had basically been the same, dull routine. Today, however, he had been upgraded from one hour of supervised "play" in the courtyard, to one hour where only half of his time was supervised. This quick improvement may have come from the fact that he didn't do anything during that time except sit on a bench in the far left corner and watch the others mill around. Chase liked to act like a fly on the wall in situations. Throughout the yeard of being hit and knocked around by his father, he had learned to keep to himself and stay silent. The only time he peeped up and made a scene was whenever his father was going after his mother; which was basically any night that he came home after spending a little too much time at the bar.
"Alright, Chase, you know the drill." The familiar voice came from the other side of his cell door. It was Lady Jane, one of the nuns who worked in the asylum coming to fetch him for breakfast.
Chase propped himself up on his elbows. His bed was made of the same type of padding that coated the floor and walls.
"I'm ready." He stood up, face the wall, and put both hands against it.
He heard the door creak open and the small footsteps as his escort drew nearer to him. "I trust you slept well," She cooed like a mother would to her five-year-old. "Just got to pat you down, my boy."
Lady Jane started up at his shoulders and searched him all the way down to his ankles. He had gotten used to this, and to the occasional time that her hand would slip just below where his belt would be and linger for a moment too long. The first time it happened, he had flinched, but it had only provoked an eery laugh from the woman and she had squeezed her hand slightly. This time, however, she kept to her boundaries and was done with the small search within seconds.
"Let's go." She said, turning and walking out of his cell, knowing he'll do as he's supposed to and follow her without giving any trouble.
And he did just that.
They walked in time to the cafeteria, passing other cells on their way. The first week of his stay, Chase had tried to sneak glances at the patients neighboring him, but the way the rooms were set up it was nearly impossible to see the beds through the windows. Now he just followed Lady Jane with his hands in the pockets of his straight jacket and his eyes downcast. This morning, however, there was noise as they passed the front door. There were three doors you had to get through in order to reach the
actual front door, but it was visible all the same.
Chase looked up, there was a girl thrashing about and a boy not too far behind her. They were each being led in by the same type of men who had grabbed him from his house a month ago. The stories of why the others were here intrigued him, although all he knew was what he'd picked up from conversations overheard in the cafeteria or out in the courtyard since he never bothered to get in actual conversations with anyone. Maybe he'd seen the two new additions during "play" time later.