“I think a lot of psychopaths are just geniuses who drove so fast that they lost control.”
― Criss Jami
"We are having a new patient come in today," I struggle to keep up with the head of Clearwater Institution for the Criminal and Mentally Insane, Ms.Carrion. Or as I like to call her, Mom.
"And I want you to stay away from him." I let out a dragging mom but my mother shakes her head. "Don't mom me, this boy has some issues he needs to work out Vanessa." "But how am I supposed to learn to be a nurse if you never put me with the new patients?" My mom stops in front of a patient's door and looks at me. "How about you learn how to be a normal teenager first."
Well that would be a lot easier if I didn't live in a mental hospital. I am not a patient myself but my mom and I have lived on the top floor since I was around ten. For the past seven years of my life I've been working with mental patients. You can imagine how well that went for me in school. "So Vanessa, who is your best friend?" "A kid who murdered half of his family."
"¿Me escuchaste?" I focus my attention back to my mom and she shakes her head. "I told you to give Zayn his medication." My mom hands me the key to Zayn's room and quickly leaves to make preparations for our new guest.
"Zen, I'm here to give you your meds." Zayn puts his newspaper down and smiles at me. "Well hurry and close the door before I get out and go on a killing spree. Again." Zayn tries to do his best sinister smile but fails and begins laughing.
I remember the first time Zayn came here almost four years ago. Every reporter was trying to get a glimpse of the 16 year old murderer. He burned his stepfather and two of his friends to death. Only because he was afraid they would abuse his mum and his sisters again. The court didn't care though, murder was still murder.
"Do you know any information about the new guy that's coming today?" I shake my head as I pour a single white pill in my hand. "I found a part of an article in the newspaper about him." Zayn knocks his medicine back and continues talking. "The guy apparently removed the organs of three women, skinned them, and buried the bodies in his backyard." A mortified expression crosses my face as Zayn tells me his crime. "How old is he?" "Think the article said 19. It would be easy to have more information on him if Dyl didn't remove the front page off of every god damn newspaper." "How-why isn't he in jail ? No prison!"
Zayn leans back on the head rest and sighs. "He was 16 when he did it, still technically a juvenile. So naturally his lawyer plead insanity and whoop, three years later they're finally sending him here. Clearwater, where all the looney people go. Who knows maybe he will be so insane they have to keep him in the basement. And all you can hear at night are his demoniac screams filling the hallways. But he would be so crazy that he will break free and skin everyone in the place. " I cover my ears and start singing off key to block Zayn out. "I don't wanna talk about this anymore. I'm gonna get ready for craft night. You're coming right?" Zayn shakes his head and laughs. "Why on earth would I wanna go to a night when all people do is try to stab themselves with cotton swabs?" "Because Perrie is going to be there." I know I've got Zayn now and I smile as soon as he says the words. "See you there at seven."
True to his word, Zayn comes in along with his guard, Dylan, and sits in front of me. "Why is it so empty?" I look at the clock that reads 6:55. "Relax, we're early. They'll all be here soon. Until then I have to go get some more cotton balls from the closet." I get up from the table before Zayn can protest and begin jogging down the hallway. As I take a sharp left around the corner I run into someone and go sliding across the hall.
"Shoot I'm sorry." I rub my head as the person extends their hand to help me up. "No it's fine, my mom always tells me not to run in here." The guy easily pulls me to a standing position. "Thanks." I realize I'm saying a thank you to his chest so I crane my next up to look at his face. And immediately back away when I see an unfamiliar smile.
Hair pushed back in an un orderly fashion. Piercing emerald eyes. Perfect pink heart shape lips. And god his dimples were so deep I'm pretty sure I could burry treasure in them.
"I'm Harry." I take in his grey jumper suit he's wearing. He had to be the new guy. I've never seen him a day in my life. And with a face looking like it was sculpted from the heavens above, I would remember him.
"Wh-what are you doing walking alone?" I secretly scold myself for stuttering. The second thing my mom taught me when we first moved here was never let the patients sense your fear. But I'm not going to lie when I say I'm scared right now. This guy was easily ten times stronger than me and could remove my organs then skin me if he really wanted to.
"My guard had to run to check on someone who began screaming like there was a bloody murder. They should really think about better security here. It sure would be a shame for someone with the wrong intentions to be out wandering the halls." The guy smirks at me and looks down the hall. "Do you know where the common room is? Heard it was arts and craft night." I want or point him into the direction of the room but I'm paralyzed in my spot. When he waves his hand in front of my face I stumble back a little.
"Calm down love, it isn't like I'm a killer or anything." I can feel my body go rigid at his words and he cocks his head to the side. "I like you, you're cute. What's your name?" I stand a little straighter and take a deep mental breath before I say my name . "Vanessa." "Hmmmm Vanessa, I like it." I've heard so many people say my name but when Harry said it, I felt like I've never head anyone say it in my life. It rolled perfectly off of his tongue and I secretly thank my parents for giving me my name.
"Well I'll see you around Vanessa, I should go back in the direction of my guard." I would have probably called someone to escort him but when he smiled his dimple smile, I forgot all common sense.
And as I walked back to the common room, Harry long gone in his cell and a bag of cotton balls in my hand, I thought of the first thing my mom ever told me.
Never ever, under any circumstances, fall in love with a patient.