While the young woman was sitting and contemplating in her own direction in the common room, suddenly one of the inmates joined her sitting alongside Odette on the tattered sofa. It was nobody else than another recently committed patient, who's falsely accused in murdering even skinning his female victims reckoning his wife. It was Kit Walker.

The young man slyly looked up at the singer, earning her immediate gaze as their eyes met, locking up her hazelish-brown orbs. His chocolate brown eyes were rather fueled with benevolence, magnanimity and sheer innocence. What the singer recognized in the unknown gentleman was actually he seemed much different than any other she has ever encountered in her life. He wasn't scornful, nor disrespectful.

"It looks like you're another falsely accused patient just like me, if I'm not mistaking." The love child clarified by lisping, while his mammoth, creamy hands were on top of his lap.

"Unfortunately, yes!" Kit nodded his head, confirming her words as he offered her a sympathetic smile, dancing across his plumpish lips. "How about you?"

"Ugh, it's a long story but I'm either." In the interim, Odette heaved a jaded sigh from the top of her frail lungs. The young man can tell she was another victim of the false charges with which they shouldn't be involved and they've nothing to do with incidents, where the authorities bewail their names bluntly, pointlessly as if they were sinister criminals. "I doubt it you'd like to listen to my story, gentleman."

"Oh, don't talk like that!" What it was somewhat awkward between the both young adults was they didn't get the chance of knowing one another's names even by questioning one another. In the meanwhile, Odette couldn't contain a wry giggle, escaping her dry, berry-coloured lips, highlighting her porcelain, creamy as silk, white as vanilla complexion. "Of course, your story is important to discover what brought you there, no matter if you are falsely committed."

Kit Walker was a young man approximately in the beginning of his 20s with shaggy, short chestnut hair, warm chocolate brown eyes, filled with love, warmness and munificence. Palish skin tone. He was much taller than Odette herself.

Somehow the younger lady was deeply touched by his interest in listening to her story without judging her if that made sense at all.

"First of all, could you tell me your name because it's so awkward to carry on without knowing our names."

"Kit!"

"Splendid! I'm Odette Beatrix." The brunette answered with immense enthusiasm, vomitted in her calm voice. Meantime she couldn't repress a growing, merry smile, honed up in the corner of her lips. The false accused inmate found an old cigarette pack and matches next to him which motionlessly laid on the ragged couch as there were only 2 cigarettes. Just for him and Odette. He put the first one between his lips, whereas he handed the other one for the singer by lighting them with the matches, subsequently she held it between her two fingers, nodding her head humbly and expressing her tremendous gratitude. "Thank you for the cigarette, Kit!"

"You're welcome." He left the matches and already emptied cigarrete pack aloof his right side, turning to Odette as they took drags from their cigarettes, consequently blowing severe dim, diffusing in the common room. "What about your story?" Kit reminded her as she was beyond absent-minded once they lost themselves in their own miniature world, full of reveries and perfections.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." The younger lady apologized in demure manner, chewing her bottom lip by clearing her throat, setting free a sarcastic, instinctive chuckle. "Well, one night after singing with Elsa Mars and holding a night show in one of the local nightclubs in Florida, we were in the dressing room and I ordered one of the security guards to serve me some martini as he did it until I drank from its alcoholic beverage. At first, Elsa was worried for me and I assured her to go in the restroom as she did it and afterwards I was unconscious, losing control over my body and mind, due to the martini. Even I got headache and thankfully, Elsa rescued me from one of the security guards who attempted to lug me somewhere and rape me. Then she drove me to home and laid me on my bed in the wee hours of the morning as I woke up without any headache. Unfortunately, the slumber was interrupted by the cops who waited for me on the front door and they not only charged me in something I haven't done, but also arrested me cluelessly. And that's why I'm here, Kit!"

"Oh!" He cried, taking another puff from its nicotine length, blowing faint acute dim in the sufficiently spacious room. "It's unfair how they locked you up in this madhouse. In what have you been accused in?"

"I was accused in violent demeanor and attack towards one of the fans under drug's influence the night before being arrested."

"I see. You don't deserve to be here. Nevertheless, the authorities trust no one!"

"Exactly! It's a conspiracy against us. So spill the tea about being thrown in this shit hole." She propped her elbow on her thigh, paying utterly attention to his utterance by taking a drag from her cigarette as she was in the middle of smoking process.

"Well, I've indicted for killing and skinning a several women including my wife Alma, in spite of she was kidnapped by the aliens and I haven't seen her since she was being abducted by them." In the interval, the young woman arched an eyebrow once he emphasized the word aliens as Odette has never believed in such theories even about the aliens, considering them as a nonsence. Nonetheless, she didn't dare to interrupt his speech as she listened attentively, without peeling a single word by taking puffs from its nicotine length, reclining on the shabby, torn sofa by crossing her partly bare, howsoever, undeniably attractive, slender and long as glamorous tower legs. "I'm innocent though they don't want even to believe me."

"It seems atrocious they have committed you here. Are you a recent one?"

"Yes! How about you?"

"Me either."

As the hours flew as swiftly as shot arrows, the Howards finally arrived in Boston though their agitation rapidly escalated in a matter of few hours when the kilometres until Briarcliff plummeted.

When they parked their car on the gas station as they would be at the nuthouse in a matter of minutes only since they were out of gas. While the former man of the cloth left the car, leaving Jude all alone in the pale blue cab to wait so that to pay, the gasman was ultimately focused on refueling the vehicle and the blonde gazed absent-mindedly out the car's window by her side, contemplating her husband's walking gait as he was paying for the gas.

Once he left its gas store, the gasman concluded with his task by wishing the former holy man to have a great day as he got in the car and resumed with their journey up to their former workplace by turning on the radio music. In this moment, one of his hands was working, spinning the car steering wheel while the other one was cupping her knee.

"I took a little trip to my home town. I only stopped to look around. And as I walked along the thorough-fare. There was music playing ev'rywhere. The music came from within my heart. How did it happen how did it start?" Paul Anka sung in the background eloquently, melting the couple's hearts, whereas the middle-aged lady thrummed humdrums as its song jingled hallowed anthems in their ears.

"In a matter of minutes and we're going to see Odette for very first time." The former sister of the church commented optimistically as she placed on top of her husband's veiny, mammoth hand her elvish, creamy as velveteen.

"Of course, my rare bird! Odette won't see the darkness ever again. I know right away she's going to somehow recognize us." The slightly younger man replied in sanguine manner as he couldn't suppress a beaming, charming smile, hugging his plumpish, baby pinkish lips.

"I hope she's capable of doing this, despite I just doubt it. She has never seen us on photographs."

"Don't be too fearful and fatalistic, honey! We have still a hope." The former priest of the Roman Catholic church opted to alleviate his wife with honeyed words as his decent, velvety British accent accentuated on his speech.

"I only know that I fell in love. I guess the answer lies up above. Oh what a feeling! My heart was c"bells were ringing! The birds were singing!"

"Only if that was easy to being recognized by our precious little treasure who we lost almost 19 years. Let's not even mention the fact, her birthday is coming soon."

"Oh, yeah! Her birthday is in matter of 3 days only." The former Monsignor added as his tongue clicked when he stopped on the red light.

"Frank, I need some rest. It's unbearably hot there!" When Odette was about to leave the common room, due to the fact she wanted to take a short nap in her cold, mere ward, she occasionally spotted the former cop, crying out loud his name.

"Okie doke, Odette!" He escorted her once they walked away from the common room and paced up in the long corridor of the old, morbid asylum as his shoes frequently, merely clicked against the cement floor. "I know you!" He furthered casually which earned an inquiring pair of gape from the young patient, pursing her berry-coloured lips.

"Do you think so?" She enquired through half-hearted, bitter giggle, emitted from the top of her throat. The young singer's heart raced once the middle-aged man mentioned the circumstance he knew her when she was a newborn baby and it has been almost two decade since Frank acknowledged her existence. "I think yar younger employer, Sister Mary Eunice mentioned something about you as ya used to be great fellas with my parents."

"I can't agree more, kiddo! They were wonderful people and it's such a pity they no longer work here though it's better for them to not torment themselves with lunatics." The former police officer responded emphatically as his old, rusty keys clinked incessantly as he managed up to move his legs and hands muscles." When they determined themselves to flee this institution and resign from the church, in order to bring you back 6 years later, then I don't know what happened."

"I was in Florida's orphanage when I was 6, because I bit one of the stern, malicious nuns' fist as she opted physically to attack me after she believed the bullies' nasty lies."

"Oh! That's not cool, Odette! By the way, this bitchy nun deserved it. You are a good kiddo." The security guard felt somehow comfortable in the inmate's company, encouraging her as she couldn't help, but smiling. "I know ya since your birth. Ya were a sweet one of a kind baby, made by yar parents' flesh and blood. You were and are still their rara avis." As he said the Latin word rara avis which Timothy usually uses it when he addresses the love of his life, it bewildered the young lady.

"Rara avis?" She questioned perplexed, popping up her plumpish, perfectly shaped lips as if dynamite exploded.

"Mhm!"

"What the hell is supposed to mean this word?" The brunette chewed her bottom lip reluctantly as her big hazelish-brown eyes glittered its rain of glitter when Frank commenced to tell her about the story of her life especially the first days as she heaved the first breathing until the moment, when she was being deprived from her own creators forcefully. "Is it a Latin one?"

"Definitely! Your father Timothy called yar mother Judy rara avis, rare bird because he loves her so much since the first moment he laid eyes on her and vice versa." As soon as the orphan came to the conclusion how are named her parents, she couldn't oppress its overwhelming burden, building in her body, heart and mind. Burden of mesmerize, enveloping in brighter nuances. She had never got the opportunity of knowing their names until it was Frank who told her immediately.

"This word sounds interesting. I've never heard of it. Now tell me what you have to. Just spit it out!" They imposed the "Stairway to Heaven" as it scintillating sunrays dispersed through the battered windows of the nuthouse's hallways, bathing the entire building in saturating light and their sole exposed body parts to the sun, guarding them from the lukewarm climate which was a common phenomenon inside the grand mental institution.

Flashback

25th of March, 1943

The young nun was already pregnant with her unborn child in the final trimester though the other nuns had more responsibilities unlike her, who struggled with her first pregnancy, despite she thought at first she's empty and infertile.

The blonde was sitting on her hardwood, exquisitely polished bureau as she finished with studiously, gingerly studying and inspecting the recently committed patients to the former tuberculosis hospital files, by scrutinizing each detail behind their biographies, regardless how long or short they appeared to be eventually.

The unborn baby's violent kicks were uncontrollable even criminally distracting her from her current especially remarkable tasks. Not only they were murderously painful, moreover she hardly can hold her breath.

The regular morning sicknesses, the mood swings and the recurring soreful pains in her abdomen and spine were unavoidable at all. Even the food she consumed including the coq-au-vin were nauseating her as the young lady verged to throw up.

Contractions hit her as out of the blue, chewing her lip by bewailing in pain. Meantime she abandoned her current task as she fell on her knees as its conservative dark wool rigid fabric contacted the cold floor, whereas her both hands rubbed gently her huge bump.

"Argghhhh!" The young sister of the church shrieked as she was about to give a birth to the life that grew inside her, bowing her head. One of her hands caressed her enormous belly which shielded the unborn child, while she momentarily opted to crouch down, creeping up to her en-suite bedroom and crawl on her compact bed by pushing.

What it stewed her was nobody entered in her office to help her in giving a birth to the child, in spite of she knew right away she and Timothy shouldn't raise it in a place as gruesome as this.

The light, masculine footsteps which clicked in the long hallway of the asylum were far from audible for her. It was the Monsignor himself! Timothy Howard marching until the piercing bewails of his favorite nun taunted him, ushering him to go urgently to her office and check for himself, discovering the entire truth.

When the young holy man stepped beside his right hand's office, subsequently he slammed his palm on the mosaic door a few times, keeping her wits about somebody's sake for responding.

"Jude? Jude? Are you okay?" He yelled her name clearly by rapping on the door a handful of times to aware her about his presence.

"Arrrghhh, help me!" Jude's rollicking pleas rang in his ears as she couldn't help, nonetheless propping on the doorway to her bedroom, linked with her office.

"I'm coming, rara avis!" In this moment, Timothy entered in Jude's office by shutting the door in a jiffy. His chocolate brown eyes were filled rather with concern, immense compassion, oozing from him. When he beheld Jude scarcely crawling on the floor, he sped up by lifting her up to her bed as she laid on it. "Are you alright, rare bird?"

"Noooo! Argggghhh!" She extended her hand to grasp it, easing her labouring process. In the meanwhile, he held her petite, creamy hand by helping her with the labouring. The blonde panted in fatigued manner.

"Don't worry, Jude! I'm already here. I'll help you." The holy man clarified by squeezing her hand whilst she momentarily started to push as she spread her legs.

While the pious members of the clergy were processing with labouring, Frank was roaming around the corridor of the nuthouse until he knocked on Jude's office door to warn her about his presence. Initially, the former cop thought she wasn't there until he timidly opened the office's door, letting himself and ordinarily searched his favorite employer.

As soon as he heard the nun's gruesome agonizing, he couldn't help by tapping on the en-suite bedroom door a handful of times until their words swam in the bedroom's background.

"You're doing great, rare bird! A few pushes and we will have our precious." Timothy encouraged his secret lover by grasping her elvish hand which perfectly fit into his larger as perspiration overspread on the blonde's porcelain complexion, gritting firmly her teeth and pushing forcefully.

"If we can't," The young sister of the church stuttered until Frank opened the en-suite bedroom's door and coming to the conclusion by contemplating sheepishly the labouring process, earning widened eyes by the both devotional members of the church.

"Of course you can do it, my heart! I believe you can do it." Timothy cupped her chin with his sole free hand as he looked up into her apprehensive honey brown eyes, brightly smiling to her until he shifted his warm chocolate brown eyes up to the security guard. "Frank, could you please check th baby's head under her habit?"

"Of course, Monsignor!" The former police officer did what he was being told in docile manner by approaching the edge of the bed, pushing his boss's habit hem until a small head emerged. "I have great news for you!" He kept on as he earned Jude and Timothy's gapes, casted on him as a slight, optimistic smile cracked on his face. "The baby's head is showing. You have a little more."

"Aww, really? That means we are doing a fantastic job."

"Definitely! How are you planning to name whether if it's a girl or a boy?"

"Hmm! if it's a girl, it's going to be Odette Beatrix or Amelie Snow." The former promiscuous nightclub singer panted by barely breathing as she was answering her friend's question, eyeing him in stoic way.

"If it's a boy, then it's going to be Tristan Henry or Dylan Henry." The English emigrant added as a beaming, reassuring smile thrived on his face.

"What a wonderful choice of names!"

"One more push, sweetie! We'll perservere!" The younger man emboldened the love of his life as she followed his instructions without hesitancy and complaining.

"Arrrghhh!" The young woman pushed as cries of excruciating escaped the top of her lungs as her heart throbbed briskly in her chest, pulsating in her ears. In the interim, Frank shoved his both hands under her hem as he caressed the yet unborn child's head until her impending push brought to life the life she carried inside her bump for straight 9 months. The life, whose creators are already obvious, although they should find alternatives how to carry on with their careers and to look after the infant in the same time which seems almost far-fetched task especially multitasking with 2 enough enervating tasks in different ways.

"Waaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!" All of a sudden, a newborn baby's blubber sailed in the nun's bedroom as Frank held the newborn in his arms, lifting her up in ginger manner without distancing her more from her mother by scanning it swiftly.

The both parents looked up at the security guard who held the incessantly bawling newborn as they wore felicity on their faces especially the former lustful, licentious jazz nightclub singer's sweat-stained complexion by unable to control their smiles' growth , melting their hearts to edges.

"It's a girl! Congratulations, Judy and Tim!" Frank commented jubilantly by approaching his boss, handing the lovers' newborn daughter.

"Aww! Look at you, little sweetheart!" The both parents were in awe by fixing their dark eyes on their sole daughter as Jude held the nameless girl, rocking her in her secure, doting arms. In this moment, the juvenile Monsignor caressed his daughter's chubby, sanguine cheek as they discovered for themselves their love child resembled so much her parents. Pretty much her mini father by inheriting his chestnut straight hair, pale as marble skin tone, eyebrows and nose unlike her tiny ears and plumpish, rosy-coloured lips whose are her mother's.

"She's so beautiful, my little angel!"

Frank couldn't contain a growing, content smile, honed up in the corner of his lips as he watched the newborn child in their parents' arms especially after helping his friends for giving a birth to a little girl. His frail heart molted in his ribs when he contemplated the victorious scenery of parents, who accomplished something more than a marvel. It was like a dream come true for them, despite they aren't seriously ready to be parents and run a mental institution in the same time.

Fortunately, neither of the nuns, nor anyone from the staff haven't heard the agonizing, soreful bewails of the young nun, who gave a birth to healthy, perfectly normal girl.

"I love you, darling! I couldn't be more happy of having you in this world." Timothy bended by planting kisses on their unnamed daughter as her cries diminished in the background as Jude got her chance to pepper her cheeks and forehead with feather, affectionate kisses.

"I couldn't be more proud of you for delivering our little ray of sunshine here though the sinister circumstances."

"Aww, Timothy! You don't have any idea how bloody happy for having our baby girl. Even being proud of you for helping me to overcome the pain and agony."

"She's indeed beautiful little ray of sunshine!" The former policeman stood next to Timothy by gazing in awe at the mother and her newborn ray of sunshine.

"I can't agree more, Frank! So it's going to be either Amelie Snow or Odette Beatrix?" The blonde inquired by taking a deep breath while relishing the moment of holding her daughter.

"Odette Beatrix sounds better name for such a pretty girl like her." Frank helped them with the vexed, tough choice.

"For the most beautiful girl who's as beautiful as her mother!" The man of the cloth responded blissfully as Jude handed Odette to her lover to hold and relish the first moments together. "Odette Beatrix! You're the best thing you've ever emerged in our lives, you know?" The infant felt quickly comfortable once she was in her parents' arms which were her Achilles' Heels for supressing her blubbers.

To be continued