Prologue: Dream

Once in a while we all have strange and unexplainable dreams... These dreams consists of vivid sceneries and people who are sometimes familiar to us yet, other times, appear unrecognizable. And right as we are about to wake, we usually find ourselves madly running away from something...

If you don't have any of such dreams, count yourself lucky. Let me tell you about the dreams that I have, or at least dreams that I think I have...

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Chapter 1

"Mr. Gordon please have a seat." The voice of the tall brunette women is polite but rather sharp. She from head to toe she is covered in white and a pair of reading spectacles is balanced precariously upon her pointy nose.

She seems to be agitated. Almost as if she loathes the sight of me. People are remarkable. They may have never meet you and yet, upon first meeting, they've already sized you up, categorized you and logged you in within their virtual card catalog of stereotypes and assumptions.

Since my hands are bound, I have no choice but to sit down. At least the buckles of the straight jacket aren't digging into me as hard when I sit down.

"As you know, you've been admitted into this hospital for psychiatric treatment. Before we start our session today, do you have any questions?" She asks me out of reflex.

"Yes, as a mater of fact I do have a question. Who am I?" It is an honest question and I'm expecting an honest answer.

For a split second I can catch her face going from emotionless to utter disgust then back to emotionless again. People can never hide their emotions. Let me rephrase that, normal people can't hide their emotions. I suppose the fact that I feel no fear, hate, sorrow, happiness, anger, love... and the laundry list goes on, makes me rather abnormal doesn't it?

"Look Mr. Gordon you've suffered extreme trauma to your head. We will try our best to acclimate you to society but for now, why don't you let me ask the questions." I can sense the irritation in her voice.

For a psychiatrist she is awfully moody. Then again... do I really know how psychiatrist behave? Have I meet them before? I guess I don't remember.

"It was you who asked me if I had any questions." I replied calmly.

There is an awkward moment of silence. A distinct frown invades her aging face.

"Lets forget I even mentioned it. Shall we begin!?" She winces slightly at the harshness of her voice.

She seems to be a bit frazzled. I wonder why? I am not doing anything. In fact, my arms are tied. I can't do anything even if I try. Can it be the way I look? Do I look threatening? Scary? Barbaric?

While scanning my unwavering eyes across the room, it is then that I noticed the furnishings in her office: very modest, very clean. Not a single piece of paper lay more than a few millimeters from a perfect 90 degree angle. In other words, the room is emasculate.

As my eyes wonder across the room, I catch sight of the reflection of an unfamiliar face in a small mirror hanging above her coat rack. Who is that? I suppose he has to be me; his eyes are looking directly back at me. There is nothing about his face that screams evil. I guess I'm not a good judge of such things but, if that person is me, then I look rather good for a fellow in a straight jacket.

"Mr. Gordon, I'm trying to speak to you!" Her sharp voice reflects her irritation.

I turn back to her. I guess she is still talking to me. I must have completely tuned her out.

"My apologies. I didn't hear you." My reply was cold and apathetic. This is going to be a long session...

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Not too far away...

"Oh crap!!! I'm late! It's my first day at work and the damn bus has to break down! Murphy's law prevails once again!" I kept muttering to myself as I raced toward the looming brick building not too far in the distance.

I'm a perfectionist. I've always wanted things to go perfectly and in theory, as long as I planed out my days and followed my schedules, I should breeze through everyday without a hitch. Well, practice and theory were defiantly not on the same wavelength today. As the wonderfully insightful Mr. Murphy said: "Everything that can go wrong, will." Basically, everything had gone wrong today.

It all started with the cat wanting attention. Then he knocked over my breakfast, forcing me to change. That made me miss the early bus so I had to take the late one which, broke down half way to its destination... then... well, basically I ran. I'm not an athlete by any means but my 5'5'' height and 135 lbs allowed me to keep up a good pace. However, being a female meant that certain parts of the anatomy were a pain (literally) when one tried to run. Without my sports bra on I definitely was not running at my full potential. Not to mention, I was also wearing a winter coat!

As I huffed my way across the streets I could see my breath escaping my mouth. January was not a good month to be running to work. I quickly found this out when my foot slipped on a patch of ice and the next thing I knew, I was flat on my rump. The day just couldn't possibly get any worse!

Oh but it could! When I stepped inside the brick building and walked into to the changing room, I found my supervisor Jacky giving me an annoyed look.

"Ms. Lee I hope you realize that you are still on probation for this job. If you are late like this again you will be fired! Understood?" Her voice was loud and scratchy. One too many cigarettes.

"I'm sorry Jacky... I promise. I'll be on time tomorrow."

I didn't bother explaining all that had happened. From my experience, better to just admit the mistake than to try to explain things. People don't usually have the patience for explanations and they always assume that you were lying.

Quickly, I changed into my hospital blue scrubs and headed down the white sterile halls towards my section of the ward. This was an asylum. They named it 'The Goodmen House' after Mr. Goodmen; a rich aristocrat who founded this place. However, Mr. Goodmen... was not good... in fact, many believed he was a psychopath and a compulsive liar. I had always thought that it was fitting to have Mr. Goodmen's name associated with insanity.

I passed through several doors. Each door was locked from the outside. When I came to the last door, Bill the guard was sitting in front of it reading the newspaper. Bill had a round Santa face complete with white curly beard and hair. He wore a black police uniform and carried a stun baton at his side.

"Why hello! It's Gina right? You are the new warden for this wing." His warm and cheerful voice greeted me.

"Yes, good morning Bill. Today is my first day. I'm slightly nervous." I admitted right out.

"Well, everyone gets nervous on their first day no matter what job it is. Don't you worry miss. Okay, let see...." He held up a clipboard and paged through it. He stopped at one of the pages and continued to speak: "You are assigned to Derek Gordon. He's with the doc right now but he'll be back by soon. There is a break room just down the hall. Why don't you go take a breather? You will be just fine." He gave me a warm smile. I smiled back and thanked him for the information.

Derek Gordon. The name sounded innocent enough...