Chapter 3:

For the second time in one week I am sitting across from Dr. Crane. Only this time it is in his office, a more intimate environment. Crane sits behind his expensive, polished black desk; I'm sitting in a black leather chair accented by small silver buttons. The walls are a deeper greenish blue than the rest of the asylum. There are plaques hung on every wall in unabashed glorification of my doctor's accomplishments. Behind me are bookshelves that take up the entire expanse of the wall, littered and stuffed with books undoubtedly on psychology. The office didn't quite fit the rest of the bleak asylum. For what it lacked in flair, it made up for in immaculacy. The only even remotely tasteful pieces in the office were the very expensive desk and the two chairs, which I'm sure, had made quite a dent in his wallet.

'Wealthy guy, I bet you drive a Lexus.'

Dr. Crane again sat with folders in front of him. He was studying me again, probably how odd I contrast against the expensive leather chair.

'I didn't ask to be here.'

"I trust you slept well?" His voice was completely detached and devoid of any form of actual care or concern.

'How lovely of you'

"As well as can be expected in an asylum," I tuck my legs under myself, just to see him squint at the sight of my feet upon the conditioned leather.

"May I ask you something Doctor Crane?"

"Since, you asked so politely, certainly."

"Do I get a phone call?"

"No." He remained untouched by my distress.

"Do I get any privileges?"

"Not anytime soon. I must see some progress first. And right now, you will hardly answer my questions."

'So you have me pigeon holed, nice.'

"Are you going to cooperate with me Miss Rhys or do I have to press upon you my more unfriendly albeit unconventional methods of persuasion?"

'I'm sure you'll do it anyway.'

"That won't be necessary."

"Good. Let's move on then." Crane opens a notebook, pen at hand and ready to succumb to his whim.

He pauses. "Let's take a different approach. This is your first week. I'm not going to use this." He then closes and tosses the folder away and focuses solely on me. Again, it hits me how young my doctor actually is. I wonder how well he keeps up with the senior doctors in his field then I'm reminded by the many shining plaques. Obviously he has no trouble.

"I think we'll get to know each other, so you will feel more comfortable around me." He offered me a smile but it doesn't reach his eyes, nor warm his skin. 'Nothing's going to make me comfortable around you, so save it.' I don't return his smile.

"What do you have in mind, Slick?" It was out of my mouth before I even had a chance to stop it. Crane pauses and attacks me with his gaze. He ignores my remark and after a few controlled blinks, he continues.

'Apparently none of those plaques will say, Mr. Congeniality.'

"Tell me about yourself Kyra."

'Great, there goes to formality mode, I busted it.'

"I'm twenty; five foot three, hundred and twenty pounds." I complete my statement as if that was my entire story, fin. Crane sits quietly; his posture perfect, eyes gleaming, and then urges me onward with a couple short throaty sounds.

'The throaty version of 'chop chop' no doubt.'

"I was working on an English major until I landed into your charming facility. My parents are divorced…

'I'd add that onto the compilation of my probable insanity.'

"I have an older brother but he doesn't live here. I haven't seen him in five years…" I stop; I'm giving entirely too much information.

Crane takes notes vigorously.

"Were the two of you close?"

"I suppose."

"Was it the divorce that drew you two apart?"

"More than likely,"

'Ooh, you're good'

"Do you feel partly responsible?"

I scratch the side of my cheek out of aggravation rather than contemplation, the pink tips of the polish gone.

"No." It came out short.

'Why the fuck should I?'

He seems irritated by my short responses.

"You don't feel like you may have contributed?"

'Nice attempt at delivering me a complex. Whose side are you on?'

"Why should I?"

"You tell me."

"I believe…" I start, noticing how Crane attentiveness immediately pricked up.

"I'm tired of answering your questions today." I lean back rather indignantly.

"I believe…" Crane mocks as he leans in towards me.

"You are in no position to make that choice."

"That's were you're wrong Dr. Crane. I have rights and I don't have to tell you anything."

'I'm not going to move, you can't touch me.'

I was wrong, he moved. Deftly he sits up from his chair, the rich leather groaning angrily at his sudden departure. He stands right over me, then swoops down to match me eye level.

"You do not speak to me in such a manner. Not in my facility! In here you have no rights. And as far as cooperation goes, you are to respect and obey me, so long as you are here, you are under my authority. But if you are still hesitant to oblige, I'd be more than happy to take a different approach to achieving cooperation. Methods I'm sure you'd be most displeased of." His eyes were fierce, pinning me to my seat, then he grins.

"But they have been proven most effective." Crane's eyes are so shiny they appear to wink at me.

'I think you need to fuck off.'

"Get out of my face."

'Courage, where did you come from?'

"Excuse me?"

"I said…get out of my face Dr. Crane, you're making me uncomfortable. Oh and for future reference, I can speak to you in whatever manner I deem necessary…that is my privilege. So stick that in your little notebook." My heart might burst through my chest.

'That would be quite a distraction, now wouldn't it?'

"Alright, starting tomorrow, therapy gets rough." Suddenly Crane gathers my chin in his hand; his face mere inches from my own. My shoulders quiver in resistance but he forces me closer.

'My god, you have a grip!'

"Rest up." He breathes into my face, squeezing harder, producing from me a small yelp.

"If you can," Crane lets me go so violently I cradle my jaw, opening my mouth, flexing the joint as if he had just struck me.

He rises and hovers above me. I feel like leaping from my chair and rushing for the door but Crane's domineering posture suppressing me downward. Towering over me like a cruel master might his recently kicked dog, daring me to move. Something in my mind clicks. 'Oh, you're one of those.' Involuntarily I click my tongue with those three little sounds of disgrace.

'Little man's syndrome, so who's your doctor?'

"You're shaming me?" His voice sounds closer. Apparently he had heard my tongue clicking.

'Hadn't meant to do that'

Finally I look up at him, my gaze meeting his. "Like the little boy that you are."

With startling speed he lashes out and backhands me. It is a hard, unrestrained smack which sent the side of my face stinging, rendering me into a silent reverie of realization…

'I am so screwed.'

"I'm through being nice Kyra. This is what happens when you push the envelope with me."

'You're not allowed to do this! You're crazy!'

"I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that what I just did was unethical and illegal; I'm probably insane and abusive to my clients. But here's the reality, you're resisting treatment, which is illegal. And I, as your doctor, am therefore obligated to ensure that you receive adequate treatment, regardless whether or not I have your consent. So, I am here to help you Kyra, by any means necessary." Crane finishes with the last sentence sounding less than convincing.

Instinctively I bolt for the door, pushing hard past Crane, my fingers just curling around the handle. Strong hands grab my arms and pull me away from my only way out. "Let me go!" I scream as I whip around to return a strike. But he catches my fist and steers me into the wall. I hear the nearby plaques shudder upon my back's impact with the solid surface.

'Ouch, that hurt!'

"What did you think you were going to do, Kyra? Presuming I had let you run from my office, where were you going to run to? Surely, you not so naïve as to think I don't have guards posted by the doors. Do you know why I have my asylum guarded by armed men?" He presses harder into me as if his body pressure would accentuate the severity of his words. In all actuality, it numbed them.

"…because as far as they're concerned, every patient in here is crazy. That goes for you Kyra, you have been declared legally insane. You're stuck here until I say you are mentally healthy enough to leave. And as far as I'm concerned, that's going to be a very long time, if at all." He nods his head to the side as he spoke the last three words, as if it pleased him.

Crane stabilizes me with his weight and one sure arm against my throat. I squirm to break free but his lean weight is crushing, his hip bone acutely digging into my waist.

'You seem like you've done this before?'

"You seem upset; you've had a long day, let me help you relax." He was reaching for something. A sharp pain in my arm confirms my suspicion. I cry out not from pain but from the severity of the situation but he silences me immediately with his hand. "Shh…it's not time to scream yet, save your energy." Crane's voice drones as his image drifts stealthily away, like a shifting shadow. The room is a churning kaleidoscope. His grip switches from feeling hard and possessive to that of a soft blanket wrapping gently around me.

'Bastard sedated me!'

"…no..." I manage as I feel my consciousness slip silently away. Crane holds my slack head in both his hands. I try so hard to focus. "I'm afraid so." His strong voice corrects me assertively, the last thing I hear before darkness enveloped me.