Briarcliff Medical Log: Entry #1
I am sitting on my desk in the make-shift room provided for me by Sister Jude. Poorly decorated small room intended as a temporary psychiatric clinic for Kit Walker exclusively. But due to unforeseen circumstances that involved Ms. Lana Winters, I have offered my services to Ms. Winters with the consent of Father Howard which was greatly opposed by Sister Jude.
"Ms. Winters." I say with my softest voice, clearly a weak attempt to earn her trust. A journalist, a brilliant woman but more so, a wasted genius.
"Doctor." She said sternly. Judging by the way she's seated suggests inhibition, her pupils dilate, and her accelerated breathing pattern, she has unconsciously identified me as a predator as the theory of flight or fight response suggests. She thinks me as a sort of grave threat to her survival in Briarcliff. Survival in terms of salvaging her chance to be free from this Asylum.
I honestly can't read her. I do not know how to connect with her without compromising her first impression of me. She is a person who is skilled in weaving an objective judgment of a situation. I do not expect less. So I
"Please, Doctor" she broke the silence. "Why did you call for me if you're just going to stare at me… or observe me?" her brows clutched together as she said "Have you made your analysis of me yet? Because if not, I find more it suitably comfortable in the confines of four gray walls than in your company."
"Isolation." I started. "Building a fortress around yourself in a place that's is already deprived you of your freedom is not what I can consider suitably comfortable, Ms. Winters." I stood up as her gaze followed mine. "Not for you, I guess."
She tilted her head slightly, denoting curiosity but more importantly, suggesting that I have her attention.
"I know you do not belong here." I say.
"I know, you shrink. Like that isn't obvious." She said defiantly.
"What do they have on you?" I walked to the front of my desk and leaned my weight against it. "Tell me. Let me help."
"They accused me of trespassing" she simply said.
"Why do I think the reason is beyond that?" There was dead silence again. But I sensed the mood change as I observed that her shoulders were less tensed and she finally broke her gaze.
"I-I... can't tell you." She stuttered.
"So, there is something. Let me help."
"I'm …" she hesitated. Suddenly the brave woman was gone. She wasn't finished and the next words utterred were not news to me. It wasn't news to me. I know without hearing her say it. I know because I've witnessed it. Lana Winters and Wendy Peyser, her roommate. They were more than roommates or friends, they're lovers.
And I am reminded again of how the first person to have made such an impression on me was unreachable.
I have watched her a few times, very discretely. I can see how compassionate she is for the people in her writings. While everyone think criminals are born evil, she sees reason—a cause to such behavior. This is reflected in her newspaper columns that they barely allow her to write for. Because of that compassion, I want her. She's fascinates me. She can be...
"Please say something." She begged.
"I think I know how to fix that." I say with all certainty. "But I need to know how much you are willing to be in the process. "
Her brows clutched together. She's even more distrustful now that she was earlier. She just stares at me. I believe she was contemplating the meaning of the words I said or she was beginning to generate scenarios in her mind that would help her figure-out if this was a good or bad idea.
"Ms. Lana, I shall leave you to your thoughts." I say as I head out for the door.
"Doctor, how are you planning to do it?" she whispered.
"If you really trust me to fix you, the answer to 'how' won't be so important to you. Only the outcome should matter." I said in a slightly eerie fashion. I intended to make her curious. As it appears, one of the very few ways to get her attention is through inquiry. "I'll be here tomorrow. All I need is a yes or a no."
I asked the nurse to escort her back to her cell as I left the room.
