Imogen's POV:
Growing up as a girl I always wanted to be between two vastly different boys in a dreadful story full of swirling fog and sad music. Katniss Everdeen got that life, Bella Swan, Hell- even Hermione Granger. I'm up in the light of a new day and the storm from the night before has the manner surrounded in a mist and the two boys on either side of me are in love with one another. I most certainly am not the girl I saw in my vapid daydreams.
I put on my make-up this morning and attempted to do the shine and sparkle of Arianna Grande but instead I look like a ghost in AHS Murder House. There's a speck of blood on my neck that won't go away no matter how hard I scrub and I know it's Sahar's. The first girl I'd ever liked died and I'm haunted by her.
The three of us stand out in the gravel driveway waiting on the master of the house. A car has arrived for us but the driver says he cannot let us in until he's paid. I watch as a cloud hovers above the pool and then evaporates like rain. A green hue ripples outward and I look into Charlie's eyes. He must be relapsing hard right now.
Nick Nelson has had this defensive posture about him every moment since we got here. Last night at dinner his humor was dry and his conversation was limited. The maid, the engineer, and the young man my uncle had over were nice enough but I worry. Uncle Kendall's never been one for company and often keeps to himself. Over stimulation causes madness in men.
I spent an hour alone in the Jacuzzi up on the third floor balcony after dinner. I knew Nick and Charlie would want to spend the night together and given their state it doesn't look like they were able to sleep. Charlie looks like he's been crying and Nick looks like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He doesn't trust my uncle.
America is weird. Their customs baffle me, their lack of formality, and their inability to smile. When they do grin it's like their faces don't posses the ability to compose that pose. Their lips merely stay in a flat line.
A chill climbs my neck and I pull my pink jacket tighter around me. I might be mad but I swear I hear a faint tinkling chime coming from somewhere near Charlie. He's a rather precarious young man and I've been getting visions of that night out in the field. The thing he did it wasn't... quite human. Perhaps it's just my way of processing the trauma.
"Charlie..." I ask, "Is that your phone?"
He looks at me and his hand goes to his pocket. He pulls it out and shakes his head 'no'. Then he tilts his head to the side as if to ask me what I'm talking about.
"Nevermind. I might just have a ringing in my ears. The altitude shift, perhaps." I smile.
Just then Kendall comes from somewhere behind the house. He's wearing a thick jacket and matching pants made of a cordiroy material with a dark blue t-shirt. 'Round his neck an amulet hangs to rest upon his chest. It appears to be a clear quartz crescent moon. He apologizes for the delay and hands the driver an envelope.
We crawl into the back of the car to a cab that has seats on either side facing one another. It's like a small limosene or a carrige. It's dark and quiet in the thick leather and the windows fog up from the chill. Through them, however, I see the world in it's orange and brown. We begin the long treck down the driveway and into the deep mountains.
A short time into the trip I catch Nick eyeing Kendall from across the cab. He's so stern with his expression. Perhaps this is where I'm supposed to cut in.
"Kendall, why were you running late?" I ask.
He looks up from his cell-phone to sort of smile at me but it's nearly hopeless. He says, "Late night. Inquiries, letters to stamp, and paychecks to cut. You all caught me at the end of a quarter. I'm sorry."
"What kind of things have you been writing about lately?" I ask.
He chuckles, "I've got a woman in the institution who believes that each alcohol contains a different ghost. That when she drinks a specific one she's allowing that ghost to posses her. She's soulful and funny with her wine, mysterious and dangerous with her tequila, and rather mean when she's had whisky. She comes to the institution when she's over indulged and I get to listen to her ramblings about the adventures she's taken."
"Doesn't that go against doctor patient confidentiality?" Asks Nick rather coldly.
Kendall gives a slight nod, "It would... were I a doctor. I am a writer and all who come to my office, by entering, give me permission to share who they are with the ink. Only those who read or ask questions will know. Otherwise it's meaningless to patients like her."
"Have you ever had a patient who's killed anyone?" Asks Charlie.
Nick and I share a frightened glance as the boy who sits between us waits patiently for an answer. Were it anyone but Charlie it would be a fun question, interesting even. It is him, though, and so it feels dark. Almost frightening.
"Once. He was being held captive in someone's basement. Doing so ensured the survival of him and another child being held captive. I wrote the story that was published in the local paper and he is now called a hero by the city." At this time Kendall is receiving a phone call and when he answers it there's this odd feeling of being alone with the other two.
It's strange how a simple turn of a shoulder can make it feel like a person isn't there anymore. A shift in demeanor makes a person feel millions of miles away. Out of respect I ignore the soft hushed whispers and turn to Nick who's unimpressed. My attempt at alleviating anxiety has done nothing. The three of us merely sit in silence as the car ride continues.
Out the window here on my right comes into view a magnificent river. Water falls out gracefully over a chasm and the air around it is almost purple. I watch as animals crawl around on fallen logs and fowl dunk their heads in and out to bathe themselves. It's beautiful here.
We cross over a bridge and the trees seem to get smaller. Little houses appear on either side of us every few minutes and some of them have billboards out in their lawn to indicate that they're businesses and no one actually lives in them. Hair parlors, tax offices, a few lawyer teams, and I even see one bakery with a 'meat pies' poster stapled on it. The term 'witch' flashes in my mind but I don't want to be too presumptuous.
The tallest hedges I've ever seen come into view on our right. We drive into an opening and pass beneath a stone arch. Statuettes pose in all sorts of positions along the driveway to the institution and we come up onto a concrete fountain with a woman pouring the water out of a massive vase in both of her hands. Two fish are sculpted into the scene as though they're swimming around the stream she pours out.
That's when it hits me. The other ten statues are the zodiac signs.
The ram guarding the entry way is the aries, the taurus bull grazing in the garden, the siamese twins by the archway (one looking to the facility and the other looking to the exit), and the crab in the koi pond. It all leads up to the Aquarius and the Pisces here in front lawn. The car comes to a stop before a beautiful marble staircase. A pair of nurses wearing face masks are already waiting for us on the landing.
My anxiety rises. There's beauty here but there's also darkness.
I step out as the driver opens the door and I take his hand to steady myself. I turn to look at the statue of the lion by a cherry blossom tree and see that there's something hanging out of it's mouth. They are predators by nature but I wouldn't expect a craftsman to build death directly into the works. They've even managed to sculpt the blood and flesh into the fangs and along the snout.
A hand touches my shoulder and I jump. It's Nick.
"We're going inside now. Did you want to stay out here?" He asks.
I shake my head, "No, it's rather chilly. I'll come in with you if that's alright."
"I don't mind." Says Charlie, "I'm nervous as it is."
Then we're climbing the starcase and stepping through the support beams. The facility is painted white but it's not that washington white I'm used to seeing in movies. This doesn't look like a townhouse. It looks, actually, like a tall, wide, library. The inside is a warm brown atmosphere with hot lanterns hanging from spokes, wooden furniture, and a glossy wooden flooring. A winding grand staircase climbs up into the facility and it only seems to go higher and the shadows prevent us from being able to see where it ends.
There are people everywhere and no one looks hurt or afraid. There's no signs of abuse. People are just doing things. Some sit in knooks and read, others chat by hanging potted plants, it's pleasant. A massive desk is in the far back of the house and there in sits a receptionist with her hair tied back on her head and large spectacles resting on the edge of her nose. The chains on which they dangle glisten in candle light. Still, the chill down my spine says I'm not seeing what's really here.
I look at Charlie and his eyes appear to be sunk in deeper than they were in the car. His lips are blue. There's a thinness to him that wasn't there before we arrived. Nick notices it too.
A tall pale man approaches Kendall. These two know each other well. I recognize him as Logan Mitchell. Former band-mate of Kendall's. Neither one of them behave as if that was their life. Logan is a physician here at the institution. He's well respected, an assistant is with him and has a cup of coffee in his hand. A few words are exchanged and then the assistant is dismissed. The four of us follow the doctor down a long winding corridor deeper into the facility and the wood becomes cold metal.
There are bars on small windows in small doors and these doors are numerous. If there are people being held inside they're either asleep or uninterested in us. This feels like an asylum. I'm worried. Eventually we come to a big exam room in the very far reaches of the corridor. All of us go inside. There's at least some casual furniture in here. A love seat, a small table with only two chairs, an exam flat top lifted off the ground by metal spokes.
Charlie is asked to sit down and the doctor sits across from him. Nick and I go over and sit on the love seat where a coffee table is laid out with a number of board games and a deck of cards. Mindlessly I pull out the cards and start to shuffle them. Who knows how long we could be here. A nurse at some point comes over and asks us if we'd like any tea or coffee.
"Green tea would be nice." I say.
He nods, "I'd like the same if you can."
"Honey?" She asks.
We both agree.
At least an hour into what seems like a soft interrogation and our mugs are empty. I had taken comfort in the warmth the cup gave to my hands. Now that ravenous ghostly feeling has returned and all I want to do is be back at the manner. If not sleeping in my bed I'd like to be lying in a hammock reading. Anything to avoid my mind replaying that night out in the field.
I twitch seeing Sahar's face explode and feeling her blood sprits on my neck. Another chill crawls down my spine and then I register the loud conversation that's occurring. I look over my shoulder to see another doctor is in the room. She's arguing with Kendall. Crap! I wasn't even paying attention. I have no idea what's going on.
All I know is that Charlie is being taken by the hand and this new doctor, with her long braid down the side of her face and a pointed nose, is pulling him out of the room. Nick and I are on our feet in a flash.
"That's not how this is going to go." Says Kendall, "I am, as of current, his legal guardian Dr. Swanson. You do not have my permission to take him into your custody."
"I don't care how you think this is going to go. This is my facility and I will treat this patient how I see fit." She spits back venomously.
Nick is about to rage and I can sense this so I take him by the hand. Mostly for me. This is scary.
"By order of the state of Tennessee I have been given full jurisdiction over Charlie Spring and therefore I decide the depth of his treatment. OCD and Anorexia are diagnosises that can be treated at home. There is nothing here to indicate that he be taken against his will into a doctor's care. If you wish to mandate his participation I suggest you get the paperwork and a lawyer to come out to my property. As of now-" He steps between the boy and the woman doctor, "we are taking his prescriptions and leaving. Don't make this any more difficult than you already have."
Charlie's crying and he slinks into Nicks arms. I run my fingers through his curls as he sobs. The lady doctor turns to a nurse, "Page Tuscan. I'll have this boy admitted here by morning."
The nurse nods and disappears down the hall.
"As for you." She points at Kendall's friend, "If you ever offer services to individuals without consulting me first again I will have you fired and your reputation tarnished. You will never work in medicine again. Do you understand me."
She finally leaves.
When we're finally alone Kendall turns to us and apologizes. He's clamming up. His hands are tightening and releasing a lot. A nervous tick.
"You were a patient here before." Says Nick, "I saw your photo in the lobby."
He nods, "Yes." and then he looks at Charlie, "We all know this is bigger than OCD and Anorexia."
Even I know what that means.
He leads us back down the corridor and into the lobby. He tells us to return to the car and he walks to the receptionist's desk. We waste no time in getting out of there. When we step out onto the lawn I'm looking at the statue of a woman in a garden alone planting seeds. She's a virgo, like me. We represent healing. There is nothing healing about what just happened in there.
We all climb into the car and wait. When Kendall returns with the prescriptions the driver starts and we turn around the loop passing a statue of a horned goat jumping over a hedge, a stone centaur firing arrows into the sky, and a giant scorpion who's tail curves down over the drive way like it's preparing to inject us with it's venom. The last thing I see before I look back at Charlie is a cracked statue of a blindfolded woman holding a pair of scales. One has broke off and lies in the mossy bank she's perched on.
When the institution is finally behind us I feel the entire car breathe. Kendall probably just lost his job over that but what he did for Charlie was really brave. Not many Americans protect children like that. He might be sixteen but Charlie's still just a boy. There is absolutely nothing good about that facility.
"There are other places to attend therapy." I say, "That woman's spent too much time in that place with all the other patients. Let's just mark this up as a loss and look into the next."
"Yeah. I don't think I like it there either Char." Says Nick.
He shrugs, "Dr. Mitchell was nice... but Mr. Knight, why did that woman say I was important to her study? What's she working on?"
"Charlie, I'm sure you're aware of this by now but there are some people in this world who have convinced themselves that they are above mankind. Dr. Swanson is a woman of great intelligence and she has experienced a lot of grief and trauma in her time. Imogen's not wrong, she's spent far too much time in that place dealing with all kinds of awful things and she's got herself convinced that she can do more than humans are supposed to. She's my boss and I have to respect her but you three are my responsibility now and you come first. I'm a well known author and I have a lot of friends. I'm sorry I put you through that today. I'll see to it we find another way to get you the help you need. That goes for all three of you. No one goes through a transition like this without needing a little assistance." He sinks into his seat and turns his shoulder to let us know his conversation with us is done. He's a million miles away.
The clouds in the sky swirl and crack with thunder. Then the rain comes down again. It's soft but there's not a patch of blue in the sky and I know the hammock is out of the question. It looks like I'll be sleeping through this day when we get back... If I can.