St Evangeline's: Asylum for the Gifted

"I'm not crazy."

These are the first words that spill form my lips as I settle hesitatingly in the plush armchair. The man at the mahogany desk is silent for a moment, head bent over paper-work. At last he looks up, slowly removing the thin black glasses that frame his pale blue eyes, ignoring the chunk of honey-brown hair that sweeps over them.

"I never said you were."

It strikes me how good looking he is- the type of handsome you'd expect from some young movie star, not a phsyciatrist who she knew was old enough to be her father, before my mouth forms a wry smile at his response.

"I'm pretty sure it was implied," I say drily. "If not by you, then by everyone else around here. Nobody believes a word I say."

"Try me."

I raise my eyebrow a notch. Was that a challenge?

"Alright... Mr Davies," I say, catching sight of the name plate on his desk."I'll tell you my story, and I will warn you now: everything that I say has happened. It's all a true story. Whether you decide to believe it or not is up to you."

He nods, so I take a deep breath. "The day the letter arrived was Monday the 1st of August, 2011...."