May 27 1863
Cecilia Adams, 22 years old. Married to John Adams. Born in Ireland. Her most dominant feature was her large deep-set blue eyes. They complimented her pale skin and dark hair. Cecilia who preferred Cece loved to dance. She would imagine a tall dark handsome partner and string quartet playing as she sat in the nursery feeding her five-week-old baby girl Caroline. John comes home at four thirty after his day at work to find Cece in the nursery with baby Caroline. John lovingly smiles at his wife, which Cece returns as she places the baby in John’s arms. John moves Caroline’s shawl to expose her face. John is in shock it is not his little girl he is staring at. John is staring at a blue-faced purple-lipped girl with bruises on her neck and chest. John looks up to his wife who is back in a corner smiling and nodding her head.
Cecilia Adams, 22 years old. The very first patient admitted to Broadmoor criminal lunatic asylum. Sentenced to life for infanticide.
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Broadmoor is home to a variety of crazies, monsters, loonies, psychos the list is huge. I have never considered myself one of them, I still don’t. The thing is since June 29th 1945 everyone else does.
Vera Steele. 19 years old. Relationship status: single. Vera wanted nothing more to be a writer. Her overactive imagination was said to be one of the things that dammed her. Vera lived on a 7-acre farm with her mother and father. Being an only child Vera had to learn to amuse herself. She learnt how to braid her hip length blonde hair by practising on horses; She used to tie rope from a beam in the barn at swing from it. Vera also learnt how to hide and stay very quite when her parents would argue. June 7th 1942 Vera’s beloved mother passed from unidentified causes. That same year Vera’s father left for war. The night of his return Vera’s father woke to her standing in his doorframe. Vera walks closer to her father and smiles. “This is what mum would have wanted” Vera whispered before raising an axe and decapitating her father, after which she continued to swing at him until the pieces became so small they would fit in a plastic bag. Her aunt found her sitting in bloody clothes writing a story in her notebook two days later.
Ok so if you haven’t figured it out already I am Vera. I also will not deny killing my father but I am not like these people he tried to attack me it was my last option.
9th August 1946
There is a different atmosphere amongst staff today, some are more on edge others are excited some are even angry. My guard Stephan opens the door to my cell.
“Hey Steph” I smile. Stephan frowns slightly and nods.
“You know Steph me and you will be friends one day and the sooner you embrace it the better” He just nods again. See his and I’s relationship consists of him walking me to the showers then to therapy then to the lounge. I do most of the talking well all of the talking. This one time he told me to shut up I stopped dead in my tracks, looked up at him for a second then kept walking and talking. He likes me I can feel it.
Once in the Lounge I take my usual table next to my favourite nurse.
“Hey Theo” I say as I start to deal cards.
“Hey baby” She smiles.
Theodora Donavan. I am unsure of her age about forty-ish I would say. I talked the ear off her before she finally gave in and actually talked to me. We don’t talk about normal things we mostly talk about schizophrenia. Theo is always informing me of new ways to treat it. She says she would love to try them on me but they are too risky for now and she would rather see me safe and crazy than dead and crazy.
“So what is everyone being weird for?” I hide my cards from her view.
“There is a new patient arriving today”
“Yes?” I question. New patients have arrived before so I was unsure what was different about this one.
“He has killed three woman Vera”
“Yeah, Cam killed thirteen” I press, what is Theo not telling me?
“He skinned them” Theo stares at me waiting for my reaction.
“Ew” I scrunch my nose and Theo laughs
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On Fridays all patients in block ‘C’ can be supervised in the kitchen to bake. I joke with Steph that the ‘C’ stands for crazy. His face remains impassive and I huff. When they say bake they really mean you can roll out this dough we made because you will make a mess if you do it yourself. You can roll it into balls if you wish or other shapes you can form with hands because there is no way we would let you loose on the cookie cutters and we will bake them for you because the oven is hot and you can not be trusted. So after thirty minutes of pure fun Steph walks me back to my cell, I mean bedroom.
- - - - - - -
Patients down the hall start to scream or for some scream louder. I press my face to the bars on my door to get a look. From what I can tell about six guards are escorting a patient down the hall. Must be the new one. I manage to catch a glance as they make their way past. He is tall and dressed in the in the blue jumpsuit that identifies him as a patient. His dark curly hair covers his face as he stares at the floor. I see his checks move in what seems to be a smile at the verbal welcome. His toned arms struggle against the cuffs that have him bound and his back muscles tense as one-guard steps on his foot. Theo scuttles along after them.
“Theo” I whisper. Theo stops at my cell.
“Is that him?” I ask excitedly. Theo nods
“They are taking him to the nurses station for an exam” Theo explains
“What is his name?” I ask as Theo starts off again. She turns back towards me
“Harry Styles” She says before heading through another door.