Chapter 1 – The Institute

"Dear diary, day 82 in this asylum-"

"It's an institute, Leah."

"Day 82 in this institute-"

"And since when do you keep a diary?"

"For God's sake, Mark Reed, can you please allow me one bloody happiness?"

Leah sat up on her bed and the weak metal frame groaned with the weight. She looked around their room. It was quite large for only holding two people. The walls were tiled and grimy and the floor was a cold, uneven lino. Everything in the room was a blinding white. The floor, the walls, the bedding, the "hospital" pajamas they were all forced to wear, and their skin, the palest of them all.

"I'm keeping a diary so that when I get out of this place, I can publish it as a book and make millions." She stated with a smug grin.

"I don't think people would go for that. They're all pretty sour what with all the killings an-"

There was a loud clang on their metal door. One of the guards had knocked with his gun.

"There is to be no speaking of what happened to you when you were in your untreated state." The man grunted.

Mark apologized and the subject was dropped; for now.

"So when we finally get out of here and you make your millions, what will you do with it? Buy the biggest house you can get your hands on? Your very own private jet? A yacht?" Mark teased.

"Don't you mock me Mark Reed." She crossed her legs on top her bed and turned sideways so as not to face Mark.

Mark gave out a little chuckle and said. "I'm not, I'm not... Okay I'm sorry but just humor me for a second." A grin never left his face.

Leah closed her diary and threw it on her pillow while whipping her legs round and leaning forwards on her knees. She had a very childish grin on her face while she waited for Mark to do the same.

"Well, when I make my millions, which I assure you I will, I think I'll buy a little bakery and hire some really professional bakers to create cakes that look like different celebrities."

As Leah carried on talking about her bakery, what started out as a small smile on Mark's face, soon grew larger and larger with all the absurd nonsense streaming out of her mouth at a hundred miles an hour.

That's what it was like when he got to the institute. A hundred miles an hour.