Doctor Finsh stood in the courtroom, her eyes boring into the floor. "Two years in the asylum." Those words came to her as great relief. For a moment she had thought she would die, but no, she would only have mental treatment. As she was escorted out of the courtroom, for once, she actually considered she was insane. Perhaps…I killed an innocent child…I could never do that…
Finsh gave a sigh as she was thrown into a room, landing with a heavy thud on the floor. She flinched, pushing herself up into a sitting position. "Well you're nice.." She hissed, standing up as she lightly brushed herself off. She sat down on the bed she was given, well if you could call it a bed. It was similar to a hospital bed. She laid down, closing her eyes. "Well, hello, rest of my life…" She muttered, rolling over onto her side to face the wall. She drifted off to sleep.
Her dreams consisted of sharks, gentlemen, puzzles, top hats, screaming children, the blood covered body of a little girl, and her own screaming, along with the unbearable smell of sea water.
Hershel Layton sat across from a boy he had seen many times in the past few months, attempting to convince him to do something nearly impossible. But he had faith in the boy. The boy was about 19 years old, with scruffy wheat colored hair and dark brown eyes. He wore a dark green hat and a matching suit and pants. "Professor for the last time I am not going back to that place!" The boy shouted, standing up. "I swore I would never go there again, you know I don't even drive out of fear of getting a ticket?" He clenched his teeth. It was true, Clive Dove was horrified of the thought of going back to jail or the asylum, both he had visited for an unwanted amount of time.
Layton sighed. "I understand, Clive, but this is for someone you would understand. Her name is Finsh, Raigan Finsh. She's a nice woman, just with some mistakes in her life." He remained calm even as Clive threw his mug across the room. "I don't care who it is, that place is awful-!" "Which is exactly why you need to help her through this." Layton interrupted, his eyes locking on Clive's. "…I'll go talk with her, but don't expect me to visit again." He stood up and stormed out. Layton grinned, relaxing. Hopefully he would be able to turn her around.
Clive scowled to himself as he stood in front of the very building he hated with every fiber in his being. How stupid was he, to be pushed into going here? By the professor of all people! English gentleman, ha! Yeah right! He shook his head and walked into the dreary building, biting the inside of his cheek as he struggled not to run away screaming.
He finally made it to the counters and sat in front of the glass, grabbing the phone as he waited for this "Finsh" person. To his surprise, he felt sympathy for the woman being dragged over to the chair across from him. She was a mess, her eyes hollow and lifeless, probably from beating herself up over whatever she had done. He forced his mouth to close and eyes to narrow. "Oh, a visitor for me? What a surprise!" The woman exclaimed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Here to rip out my entrails, or tell me my dead daughter hates me?" She narrowed her eyes cruelly. She wasn't taking this very well.
Clive clenched his fists, tempted to slap this woman through the window. Her attitude got under his skin. What did Layton mean by they were alike? "Hey, I was sent here to help you keep your sanity." Finsh snorted. "My sanity?" She echoed. "How do I keep something I've lost? Unless you haven't noticed, this place is for people who are insane. And apparently I'm one of them!" She crossed her arms, her voice turning bitter. Clive saw no likeness between them at all.
"I'm very aware of that, Miss Finsh. Want to know why I'm here? The Professor sent me." He shrugged a bit, leaning back in his chair. Finsh groaned aloud, which almost made him burst into laughter. "I see you know the man." He remarked, smirking. Maybe they would have something to talk about. "The man that foiled my plans and got me arrested by the police? Yes, we've met." She said drily.
Clive snorted. "Well, that's one thing we have in common. He kept me from destroying London, how about you?" Finsh raised an eyebrow at the "destroying London" comment, but let it go. "Continuing my research into creating the ultimate creature, from other sea creatures." She grinned. He frowned a bit, lost for words for a moment. "…you were making a monster?" He smirked a bit, an unbelieving expression on his face as he chuckled.
Finsh suddenly slammed her fists onto the counter. "SHUT UP!" She roared, causing Clive to fall backwards out of his chair, his eyes bulging. "YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING!" The woman screamed at the top of her lungs, behind held back by guards, tears trickling down her face.
Clive swallowed hard, collecting himself. He stood up, shaking a bit. "R-Raigan, calm yourself…" He murmured, recalling her first name. "I understand, I was just trying to make a joke." She seemed to relax a bit at his words, the confused guards letting her go. She slumped into the chair, burying her face in her hands. "….I really have lost it, haven't I…?" She whispered hoarsely. Without knowing what he was doing, he reached through the opening, grabbing her hand. He squeezed it a bit to comfort the woman. She looked up at him with glossy eyes. "Thank you…" She murmured, smiling. "You would have gotten along with my daughter..." He frowned. "Have? What, did she move?" Finsh stiffened up. "…in a way. She's dead." She muttered, looking down. His eyes widened, this was clearly not the right thing to say. "O-oh…I'm so sorry. How did she…pass on?" Clive stared at her with a curious expression. "She was terribly ill and weak when she was born, the doctors were shock she had even lived as long as she did." Finsh shrugged. "How old was she?" He leaned forward, now interested. "Seventeen, well, eighteen if she had lived one more day." He made a slight choking noise as it struck him. This woman had lost her daughter the day before the girl's birthday. He stood up, pulling his shaking hands away from Finsh. "I-I have to go. I mean it's time to go." He said swiftly, luckily, visiting time was over. Finsh smiled. "I understand, go ahead." She stood up and was guided away by the guards.
Clive ran as fast as he could away from the building, his heart pounding in his chest. The place was like a gripping death trap, he had almost lost it himself from merely walking inside. Hearing about the girl's death wasn't making it any easier. He would have kept running, soon to be hit by a truck that was going way past the speed limit, if he hadn't collided with another person. They both fell backwards, then stood right back up with angry expressions. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" They shouted in unison, and after a few seconds, burst into laughter. Clive rubbed the back of his head and looked at the girl he had run into. She had long, curly blonde hair, and the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. They were like an ocean, and he almost got lost at sea. She wore a wide brimmed white hat with a pink bow, and a white dress that stopped at her knees. "Are you alright?" She said, still giggling. He froze, his cheeks turning the slightest shade of red as he realized he had been staring at her like a deer in headlights. "Y-yeah. Just having a rough day, not all there." He made a crazy motion with his index finger, and was rewarded with a laugh similar to a bell chime. "I gotcha, we all have them, don't we?" She shrugged a bit. He smiled warmly, his day had been so dark and dull before, and now it was like he had just been given the world's best Christmas present. He held out his hand. "Clive Dove." He said simply, dying to know the girl's name.
She smiled sweetly. "Miranda Sonny." She shook his hand, jerking it a bit. His eyes widened a bit at the girl's strength. He found her name fitting, the girl was like a ray of sunshine. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Sonny. Perhaps you would like to come with me for a drink?" He motioned to the coffee shop they were standing in front of. Her eyes shined. "I would love one, Mr. Dove." She said almost teasingly, giggling once again. Today might just be the best day of my life. He thought with a grin.