The Mental Patient

Chapter 19 - What am I to Sane People?

A benefactor of Stateside stands outside the cell, pacing the five-and-a-half-foot corridor. Cigarette after cigarette is puffed, wheezed and stepped on. His nerves are being snipped from the inside.

"What the fuck have you done? What the fuck!"

Clustering the calamity of filing in his filling arms, Doctor McKay's eyebrows raise and he chases the financers face.

"What are you talking about?"

Stomping on one of his cigarettes he's only dragged a couple of times; the higher-upper wisps around his fingertips.

"Here's what I am talking about, this hospital is for pure research purposes and you talked that judge into giving us kids who should be locked-up, indefinitely, Kyle doesn't need help, he needs a drug induced coma or a fresh grave. I can deal with crazy people on a daily basis, like Derek and Brian, they can be controlled and lured back with breadcrumbs and illusions, but you have authorised a nuclear weapon to stay here, you've allowed a live grenade loose in our facility and placed his pleasant pin-of-a-sister to be put in the cell next door to him. Look, I backed your ideas to the board of administrators. How long before this grenade in question figures out he is never getting out or will not be in contact with his pin ever again, days, weeks or years. Either way when he does find out; he will blow and tear this place down brick by brick and it will tumble down on your fucking head. McKay, deal with this, before everyone in this place is dealt with by him. I will not allow him to take charge of this place, my workers will not work in fear and I don't want the thought of him escaping every night before I go to sleep."

The confidence of his confined smile is coined.

"Gary, there is madness in my methods. If I were to change a sociopath's way of thinking, wouldn't this place actually be a success? Leave it all to me, I will handle this."

With a hand around each other's back they set off into the sunset of dying, waiting patients.