Doug

Doug Penhall walked down the brightly lit white corridor, his head spinning as his eyes swooped backwards and forwards taking in his surroundings as his footsteps echoed around the sterile empty hallway. He still couldn't believe he was here. Two long years of searching had led him here, only twenty minutes' drive down the road. Two long years of being told he was wasting his time, of Judy begging and pleading with him to let it go, that continuing his pointless quest was only going to cause more pain in the long run. He had thought she was probably right, but he couldn't just let his best friend become nothing more than a name on an old and discarded missing person's report. He owed him more than that.

So many times, he had come within seconds of giving up, times he started to believe that the others were right, that he was wasting his time. Well, here he was only moments away from the end of his long search. Only moments away from proving them all wrong. The problem was he was scared to death of seeing him again. Of all the places he thought his once partner may have been this was the last place that he would have thought of. Although the state he was in last time he saw him it kind of made sense. But after all this time, the way things turned out, he had no idea how to be in the same room as him again. In fact, even after he had searched so long and so hard, he wasn't sure he wanted to see him. What if he was worse than he had imagined? Would he even know him anymore? These questions and more swam round his mind as he carried on nervously down the hall.

"It's just down here." the tall man in the crisp white coat told him as he led him down another identical passage. It all seemed so cold, so unfeeling, so much like a prison. "We were quite surprised when you crawled out of the woodwork" he was saying cheerfully as he led Doug towards a door halfway down the hall. "We'd given up on anyone coming to see him."

"How long has he been here?"

"Nearly twenty months. He checked himself in around February 91. Of course, that was when he was still capable of doing things for himself."

"What do you mean?"

"Officer Penhall, I have to warn you when your friend arrived here, he was very distressed and very disturbed. He presented a number of symptoms synonymous with a massive nervous breakdown with possible schizophrenic tendencies. Now usually we can treat this and as long as it is controlled carefully with the right medication most patients are able to go ahead and lead relatively full and normal lives."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"I'm afraid in your friends' case. He made good progress after he arrived here but after a while he failed to respond to treatment and over time his condition has progressively worsened."

"What do you mean?" he asked as fear ran through every bone in his body.

"After a while he did become a great deal calmer, but that is mostly due to how much he has withdrawn."

"Withdrawn how?" Doug pressed.

"After the first few months he stopped speaking and he barely ate. In fact we have been having to feed him intravenously for the last 6 months because there is no other way to get him to eat or drink."

"He's starving himself?" the large officer shouted out in shock.

"Not intentionally. You see Officer Penhall, he's shut down, hiding in other words. His mind is trying to protect him from what was causing his pain. He no longer responds to outside stimuli. The only words he has spoken in the past year are to people that seem to exist only to him. We're hoping that a familiar face can get some kind of response from him." he said with what Doug was sure he thought of as an encouraging smile.

"Doctor, are you saying that my partner is a vegetable?"

"No. What's wrong with your partner isn't physical and nothing that has to be as permanent as a vegetative state. He is what we call catatonic."

"So, he'll come out of it?" Doug asked hopefully.

"Possibly. Only he can decide on that. As I said before, he's hiding, and we just need to find the right door to look behind. Hopefully that's where you can help."

"You think I can?"

"We've done everything we can to help. What he needs is reminders, familiar faces, to maybe help bring him round. You see if we can't find the root of the problem, we can't really treat it. And obviously we need him to be able to tell us. So, you see, Officer Penhall, we're in a sort of Catch 22 situation here."

"Jesus, this is so much to take in" Doug sighed as he raked his hands through his scruffy hair, stopping himself suddenly, shocked at seeing the once familiar gesture coming from himself.

"I know this won't be easy for you, but there's nothing else for us to try."

"Is he dangerous? You know, err, restrained or anything, cos he's always hated that."

"No. Catatonic patients aren't usually a threat." The doctor said kindly. "So, are you ready?"

"No. But I don't think I ever will be, so it might as well be now."

The doctor placed a hand on the door and a loud buzzer sounded, making Doug jump out of his skin as it did so, as the door slowly opened.

With a nervous glance towards the doctor Doug slowly stepped through the door. The light wasn't so bright in here, in fact the whole room seemed dull and listless as if these places suck the life out of everything and everyone in it.

"Morning Tom." The doctor called out cheerfully as he followed after Doug and moved over to the corner and a dark shape Doug couldn't quite make out in the shadows cast by the half drawn curtains. He listened out for the familiar voice, hoping that he would prove everything he had just been told false. But no answer came. Not a sound broke the silence of the room in reply to the pleasant face middle aged doctor.

Doug's eyes nervously scanned the room as much as the small amount of light allowed by the small window. Studying the window, he realised that there were steel grates covering the glass and anger suddenly rose inside him.

"You've got a visitor Tom." The doctor continued in a voice that was usually reserved for five-year-old children. "Makes a nice change from seeing my ugly face every day huh?"

Still no answer. The doctor signalled Doug over.

"I'll leave you alone to catch up ok?" he continued to the silent figure. He smiled at Doug and made for the door. Doug put out a hand to stop him.

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Just talk to him. You said you've known him for quite a long time, just talk to him as normal."

"But this is far from normal doctor. Will he even know I'm here?"

"It's hard to say. We like to think so."

"That's helpful!" he said sarcastically. "And I thought you said he wasn't dangerous." He said pointing to the window.

"Standard procedure Officer Penhall. A lot of our patients are." The doctor said as he opened the door and looked directly at the large officer.

"Good luck!" he said smiling sweetly, and rather disconcertingly as he closed and locked the door behind him.

He slowly and tentatively walked over to the huddled figure, his heart racing but his blood feeling like ice in his veins. What could he say? In the short time it took him to walk over to the shadowy form he tested and rejected so many words, they all seemed wrong somehow. In the end he didn't really need to think.

"Hey Tom!" he said, his throat dry and his voice cracked.

There was no movement or even any sign of recognition from the now familiar shape in front of him. He was surprised to find he was disappointed at this. The doctor had warned him so what was he expecting? Because it was him Tom would magically be well again? What an idiot! Still, he couldn't help feeling hurt.

"Man, it's good to see you! Could you have made it any harder to track you down?" he said lightly, a grin plastered on his face. Still no movement.

He still hadn't even seen his face. As usual, the overgrown mop of dark hair flopping over and obscuring his features. He was suddenly overcome with a desperate need to see his friends face; he had searched for so long. He reached out to brush the hair away but as he did the figure spun round and he was faced with his back again.

"Tom, it's Doug. Do you remember me?" he asked walking slowly around the figure to look into his face again. As soon as he did the figure once again spun away. Frustration rising, Doug reached out and took hold of his friend's shoulders. They felt smaller and more fragile than he remembered. He gently turned him round to face him. As he did a scream rose up in his throat as the face looking back at him was completely empty, not just vacant, absolutely and totally blank!

The scream broke loose as Doug Penhall sat up in his bed in a cold sweat.

"Doug? What is it?" asked the woman beside him, wrapping her arms around his shaking form.

"I can't remember his face."

"Doug….."

"I have to find him!"