Asylum

by Kristen Selleck

  “Where’d you go anyways?” Sam asked.

  “I was getting that crap off your walls,” Seth explained, holding up his hands. “I had them come in and change the light bulb too. I know…I know you’re both pretty freaked out about all this, but I want you to try and think about this logically. What makes more sense to you, that some evil invisible ghost is tormenting you by writing all over your walls, or that your light bulb burned out and you left your door unlocked and someone came in and tried to scare you by writing on the walls?”

  Sam shook her head.

  “Who would know that the Ouija board spelled out ‘help’ and ‘trapped’ specifically? Who would know? And who would do something like that? I never told anyone, did you, Chloe?” Sam asked.

  “No,” Chloe admitted.

  “So me, you and Chloe are the only ones who knew, and I don’t think any of us did it. So if we’re being logical…” Sam trailed off.

  “The guys next to you came down here this morning and complained about the noise level in your room. They said they heard you screaming, they said they hear you talking in there all night. I’m convinced they heard every word that was said. I think they were trying to scare you guys because they were angry about being woken up. But I can’t be sure, a whole group of girls knew you guys were up on the roof as well. One of them could just have easily been trying to play a trick on you. I mean help… trapped…it’s really kind of vague and easy to figure out, isn’t it?” Seth asked calmly.

  Chloe agreed with that much, although she didn‘t think any of those people were likely suspects. Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in a way that suggested she didn’t think so, but she didn‘t argue.

  “So get your stuff and we’ll all go down there together,” Seth offered.

  Chloe grabbed her book bag and Sam picked up the Ouija board and tucked it under her arm. Together they walked down the quiet hall to their own room. Seth went in while both the girls stood on the threshold and looked around nervously. All the writing had been cleaned off the walls, though in places, faint smears of red could still be seen. Seth flipped the light on to demonstrate that it worked. In the bright daylight, the florescent glow was hardly noticeable.

  “So we’re okay now, right?” Seth asked.

  Sam and Chloe stepped over the doorway cautiously and continued to look around like frightened animals in a new pen. Neither of them answered Seth’s question.

  “Just calm down and try to be logical about all this,” Seth advised. “Nothing is trying to hurt you. If you get scared, just remember that you are surrounded by people. All you have to do is stick your head out the door and holler, I’m five seconds away.”

  “Are you l-leaving?” Chloe stammered.

  “I was going to try and get some work done before the floor meeting. If you need me to stay awhile-”

  “No. We’re fine,” Sam snapped.

  Seth seemed uncertain. He looked to Chloe for an answer and she was able to summon a smile and nod in encouragement.

  “Sure, fine,” she agreed weakly.

  “Alright then, see you both. Meeting’s at eight, got it?”

  “Yup,” Chloe affirmed.

  Seth went out and closed the door. Sam grabbed the Ouija board box and tossed the board and pointer inside, slamming the top on with unnecessary force.

  “Let’s give it to Jen and Mel right now, we can tell them not to bother stopping by either. All the writing’s already gone!” Sam fumed.

  “What? Are you mad that he came in here and cleaned it off? I thought that was…well, nice of him. I didn’t want to have to look at it again, did you?” Chloe asked.

  “NO!” Sam almost shouted, “No, I didn’t want to have to look at it, but he…he…didn’t even ask! He’s acting like we’re stupid irrational females. Like we’re hysterical because we’re on our periods or something! He acts like…like he’s smarter than us!”

  “Oh Sam! I don’t think that at all. I think he’s very nice and-”

  “Of course you do,” Sam snorted. “You’re all like oh-big-strong-Seth-take-care-of-me-cause-I’m-all-scared-and-female-and-stuff.”

  Chloe should have been angry, but Sam’s high-pitched, whiny imitation of her voice was really funny. She snickered and tried to get Sam to make eye contact. “Oh…really, is that what I’m all ‘like’? Okay, I’ll be you: I’m-Sam-I’m-all-angry-and-stuff-for-no-reason.”

  Sam shook her head, but the corner of her mouth did turn up and hint at a smile. She let out a long, frustrated breath and snatched up the Ouija game.

  “Let’s just forget about it, okay? We put it away, we’re giving it back to Jen and Mel, its over. No more ghosts for us, agreed?” Sam offered.

  Chloe nodded, wanting desperately to believe it could be that easy. Together the girls went out and shut the door.

  * * *

  “Alright everybody listen up!” Seth demanded. In the Garner Room, sixty or so students ambled around. A few had taken down chairs from the stacks against the wall. One enterprising group had even set up one of the folding tables, and the largest knot gathered around this. Some sitting on the table, others in chairs or standing nearby. Seth stood before a row of soaring, rectangular windows which would have given a good view of the square had it not already been dark out. Chloe and Sam sat on the floor against a wall with Jen, Melanie, and a couple of other girls. Seth cleared his throat and tried again, louder.

  “Everybody, up here, attention!” he called.

  Around the room, conversations died down as everyone turned to look at him. Chloe felt an odd sort of pride. She knew it was silly, knew that nothing of him belonged to her, but still…he had said that he liked her, and he was…he was just so-

  “If we haven’t met, I’m Seth Maird, I’m the resident advisor for your floor,” he said. “A couple of things…I want to welcome everyone to BHC. I hope we’re going to have a great year. I’ve talked to a lot of you, and I may be biased but I think we have the best floor!”

  Someone hooted at this. Seth nodded and continued, “We’re going to have a lot of fun. We do a lot of things at Kirkbride Hall that are kind of unique. Like, in November, we always have a hockey tournament between the floors, and the winning team’s floor gets pizzas and everyone on that floor gets free Birch Harbor Bears Hockey shirts. It’s a lot of fun. The teams are co-ed, and we’ll probably post a sign-up sheet on the notice board in a week or two.”

  At this announcement, a few of the boys seemed to perk up noticeably in their seats and lean forward expectantly.

  “Last year, we lost to four east, by one point, so this year-”

  A few boys clapped and hooted loudly. The girls glanced around at one another with raised eyebrows, as though their enthusiasm was annoying.

  “Alright, but there are some rules we need to remember. It’s important that everybody understand them, because if we’re all going to live together and get along, we need to have rules. First off, leaving your doors open is fine. It’s really great when you have a floor where people all talk to each other and go in and out of rooms and get along, but there are a couple of things you need to be careful about. If you leave your room, make sure you lock your door. Things will and have been stolen in the past. If you’re by yourself-- no roommate--be cautious. The entry doors aren’t locked during the day. It would be really easy for someone to walk in here unnoticed and come right into your room. So use your head. Second of all, if you are caught stealing or vandalizing someone else’s room…you’re out of here. Meaning you cannot live on campus and if it’s bad enough you will be expelled from the school…period. It’s happened before. We had a guy my freshman year that got his laptop stolen and found out it was someone just a few doors down. That person was kicked out the same day. Now some of you may have heard that a room on our floor was recently vandalized. It happened this morning or afternoon-”

  The room erupted in whispers, a few heads turned in Sam and Chloe’s direction. Sam crossed her arms and stared angrily into space.
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br />   “If I find out who did it, and I guarantee you, these things have a way of getting around, that person or persons will be out of here, no questions asked,” Seth looked slowly around the room, trying to make direct eye contact with a few specific people. Chloe was reminded of a teacher she had once had, threatening her classroom after finding spit wads stuck to the ceiling.

  “Lastly, I’ve gotten a lot of complaints about noise level on the floor the past couple of days. This is the first week of classes, a lot of us are excited because it’s our first time on our own, we’re all adjusting to living in a dormitory, so close to other people. I understand that. We have a policy that we don’t enforce any rules about noise level the first week back. However, starting next week, there is a mandatory quiet time starting at ten pm on weeknights and midnight on weekends. No loud music, yelling, or talking loud in the hallways. We’ve got to respect each other. When classes really start rolling there’ll be a lot of people working on assignments, and studying, and trying to sleep, so let’s all stick to the quiet time rule, and we’ll have a great year. Okay…questions?” Seth crossed his arms and stepped back to lean against the windowsill.

  “How do you pick who plays on the floor hockey team?” a boy leaning against the wall called out.

  “Anyone who wants to play just has to sign up. If we get a lot of people this year, then we make up teams of five and rotate during play. We keep the same goalie all game though. We’ve never had more than twenty people sign up that I can remember. Anything else?”

  “What are you doing Saturday?” called a girl sitting in the center of a giggling group around the folding table.

  “Skah-skah-Skank!” coughed Sam loudly into her hand. The girls in their group snickered, Jen elbowed Chloe knowingly.

  Seth pretended not to hear the giggling. He put on his best poker face and gave everyone a moment before he said anything.

  “Hopefully spending time in the company of a uhhh….friend,” Seth’s voice hinted at the smile his face wasn’t wearing. Somebody at the table whistled. “Anything else…anything else not pertaining to my personal life?” he asked. No one raised a hand.

  “Alright, everybody have a great year. I’m in 245 if you need anything…if you need anything pertaining to my specified duties as R.A.,” he quickly corrected.

  The group broke up in twos or threes, leaving in conversation, stacking chairs, some hanging back to talk to Seth. Chloe stood and offered Sam her hand.

  “Well, should we start our homework or-” Chloe began.

  “Anything but homework,” Sam moaned.

  “Let’s hit the Eat,” Jen suggested.

  “The Eat!” Sam agreed. She raised an eyebrow pleadingly at Chloe.

  “The Eat,” Chloe gave in

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Chloe struggled to make sense out of the words floating around her head. Dr. Willard was not making it easy. His toneless drone was slowly lulling her to sleep. It wasn’t interesting either, that much she was sure of. The header on her notes read: The importance of research. Beside her, Sam slumped over her desk, chin propped on her hand, pen gripped firmly, and yet, somehow, fast asleep. Chloe admired her technique. It must have taken years to be able to sleep so soundly in that position. Had she tried it, she would probably end up face planting on the desk.

  It was Monday again. They had burned up the weekend sleeping til noon and drinking all night. Chloe gave up and allowed her eyes to close. She and Sam had never discussed their ghost, not once. Was it for the best? It seemed that without saying a word they had mutually agreed not to talk about it. Still, there was never a second where either of them had left the other in the room alone. If Chloe said she was going to use the bathroom, Sam would get up and come also. When Sam had gone downstairs to meet her parents, who came to drop off a few more things, Chloe had followed quietly along. She had stood off to the side, pretending to be reading a sign posted to the notice board in the lobby the whole time.

  Of course that meant she also hadn’t been able to go out with Seth on Saturday. She didn’t feel it was fair to Sam to be left on her own for that long. Seth had been cordial and understanding on the phone, but had also excused himself quickly by saying he was on his way out the door at the time. He had not shown up at the Eat Friday or Saturday night, and she had bumped into him in the hallway only once. He was carrying his skates and hockey gear, and gave her a smile and a wink as he brushed by.

  Sam had warned her not to call, had told her not to look desperate. Men don’t want to be chased, she advised. She needn’t have bothered. As if Chloe would be able to call and chat him up! She did find that in the quiet afternoon time, between waking up and going out drinking, that she listened for his voice in the hallway. If anyone at the Eat mentioned him, even in passing, her ears perked up. She even made it a point to butter-up May, the waitress. On Saturday night, she had left more than a twenty percent tip with a note written on a drink napkin that read: “Thank-you for providing wonderful service, you’re the best!”

  And now it was Monday again, and Seth hadn’t dropped in or called or anything. What did that mean? Had she blown it? Around her, she could hear a growing restlessness. It must be getting close to the end of the period. Students were rustling papers, straightening up, causing the folding seats to creak, zippering their bags. It would become louder and more noticeable until it reached a point where the majority of the class had all of their books and papers put away, and were sitting on the edge of their seats, gripping their bags, ready to spring up.

  “CHLOE ADAMS AND SAMANTHA KLINGEMAN!” Dr. Willard’s voice shocked Chloe fully awake. She jumped in her seat, her eyes popping open. Down below, at the front of the classroom, Dr. Willard seemed to be looking around, waiting for someone to raise their hand. Did she hear correctly? Had he called out for her and Sam? Sam continued to snooze in oblivion beside her.

  “IS THERE A CHLOE ADAMS OR A SAMANTHA KLINGEMAN HERE TODAY?” Dr. Willard repeated.

  Chloe jabbed an elbow into Sam’s arm, upsetting Sam’s precarious balance and jolting her awake.

  “HERE!” Chloe called, waving her arm. “Raise your hand,” she hissed at Sam between her teeth. Sam raised her arm sleepily.

  “I need you both to stay a few minutes after class,” Dr. Willard informed them. Heads swiveled to glance at them, a few threw them knowing smirks.

  Chloe wished in vain that she had been paying attention. She couldn’t imagine what he wanted, but it made her uneasy. It could be that he noticed their papers had been too similar.

  After writing down their assigned reading for the next class, he dismissed them. Sam and Chloe stayed in their seats while the other students jammed the main aisle, waiting for their chance to get out the doors.

  “What’s going on? We in trouble or something?” Sam asked groggily.

  “I don’t know, I wasn’t paying attention,” Chloe admitted.

  As the last of the students filed slowly out of the room, Chloe and Sam shouldered their backpacks and shuffled down to the front, where Dr. Willard was reordering his lecture notes. He did not look up as they approached. Sam cleared her throat to get his attention.

  “Ahhh…Miss. Adams and Miss Klingeman!” His quick, tight smile was all business. Chloe tried to look anywhere but at his moustache. “I wanted to talk to you both about a very special opportunity I only offer to two students every semester. Do you have to be anywhere right away?” he asked.

  Chloe shook her head, Sam shrugged noncommittally.

  “Very good, very good. Why don’t you follow me then? My office is upstairs.” He zipped his notes into a leather case, and walked quickly away. Sam and Chloe made eye contact and fell into step behind him.

  “In case you’re wondering how you were selected,” Dr. Willard called over his shoulder, “it was your papers, the ones I had the class write last week on why you are studying psychology. The kind of opportunity I’m offering requires students of a particular mindset, and a real passion for their future care
ers. I must say, I was quite impressed with both of your essays.”

  Behind Dr. Willard’s back, Sam glared murderously at Chloe and sucker-punched her shoulder. Chloe flinched and threw her hands up, silently mouthing the word, what? Sam jabbed a finger in Chloe’s direction and then drew the finger across her neck. The implication was easy to understand… “this is all your fault, I’m going to kill you!” Chloe rolled her eyes and hurried to keep pace with Dr. Willard. He had already reached the elevators at the end of the hallway.

  “I don’t suppose either of you are familiar with the history of psychology, the evolution of treatment for those with various mental conditions through the years?” Dr. Willard asked.

  “Sure, like Freud and stuff, right?” Sam guessed.

  “It’s a great deal more complicated than that, Miss…?”

  “Klingeman,” Sam said.

  The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Dr. Willard gestured that the girls should enter first. He followed, and tapped the button for the fourth floor.

  “It started with the ancient Greeks, right? Weren’t they the first to realize that insanity was a physical ummm…impairment, instead of blaming it on demons?” Chloe offered.

  “Yes, Miss. Adams, very good. Though my studies are more concerned with the history of psychology in America, specifically with the history of institutions for the treatment of mental illness.”

  The elevator dinged again and the doors opened up onto a narrow, brightly lit, hallway. One wall was all windows, looking down on the bike racks and scurrying students below, the other side was lined with doors. Dr. Willard continued on, not sparing a glance for the view.

  “So... like…Thomas Kirkbride and that kind of stuff then?” Sam asked.