The Cabin II: Asylum

by Matt Shaw

  I’m not sure how much more I can take of this time shifting. My head felt as though it were going to explode. I spun around, to make sure I was alone in there. Thankfully I was - other than the familiar spider nestled in the corner of the ceiling still.

  I fell back against the wall and slid down until my arse was on the floor. I’m exhausted; physically and mentally. I closed my eyes. I could sleep for a decade at least.

  “Are you okay?” asked Vicky.

  My heart skipped a beat at the sound of her voice. I opened my eyes and saw her standing in the open doorway.

  “You coming out today? I missed you yesterday, after you left...” she continued.

  “You can’t be here,” I turned my head to the side in the hope that she’d disappear. Out of sight, out of mind. It was a trick which worked for the boy when he appeared to me.

  The boy?

  I struggle to think of him as Anthony.

  The way he looks.

  Inhuman.

  “It’s no wonder he is so angry,” I said.

  “Who?”

  “Anthony,” I told her. “Here all his life? Abandoned. If I had been left like that, I’d want to haunt those responsible too...”

  Vicky walked over and took a seat, next to me, on the floor.

  “I mean it, you can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here.” I sighed, “None of us should be here...He shouldn’t have been here.”

  “He isn’t anymore,” said Vicky. I knew she was trying to comfort me but I still fretted about what the doctors would do if they saw her with me. I shifted uneasily on the padded floor.

  I want to talk to her.

  I want to but I can’t.

  I daren’t.

  I need to talk to someone and it’s obvious I can’t discuss it with the doctors. It’s weird; in the dreams I’ve been having...The vivid dreams...The doctor I’ve been seeing is completely different. Compassionate even. He looks as though he actually cared about the child.

  “None of us are here anymore,” Vicky continued. I looked in her eyes - didn’t look as though she was on medication. She started to laugh, “You still don’t get it, do you? You still can’t see it?”

  I didn’t have the time for this. My head was banging from everything that had been happening - a pain only matched by the feelings coming from my tender finger tips.

  “You really don’t recognise me, do you?” asked Vicky.

  She stood up and walked from the room.

  “What?” I called out after her. “What?”

  I clambered to my feet and hurried into the corridor, after her. She was gone. Impossible. The corridor stretched too far for her to have made it around the corner.

  Recognise her? What was she talking about?

  I ran down the corridor. Maybe she did make it round the corner.

  I turned the corner and slid to a stop.

  “You haven’t got a hug for your old man?”

  Dad?!

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  He didn’t respond.

  Footsteps behind me.

  I turned around and saw Anthony running towards me. He ran straight past; I followed where he was going. He ran straight into the arms of my father. A tight hug. Warm. Loving. A pang of jealousy shot through me. What the fuck is this?

  My dad scooped him up in his arms and held him tight.

  “What have you been doing today?” he asked.

  “Painting!” Anthony yelled - obvious excitement in his tone of voice.

  They disappeared around the corner.

  “No! Wait!” I called. I ran after them and around the next corner.

  Mum and dad’s old living room? What the hell? Dad was standing by the fireplace; a fire blazing across the logs. Mum was sitting on the sofa, her usual place in the room. She used to say it was comfier than the other seats. I’d argue with her that it wasn’t and they were just the same but she’d never move.

  “It’s just for the weekend,” dad was saying, “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I just don’t see why you can’t do your writing here,” mum replied.

  “I told you - I can’t concentrate. I just need to get away for a few days. Just a couple. I’ll get the project finished, my agent will be happy...We might get some money which will help with the bills...Just a couple of days. Come on, I need your support. I can’t do this if we’re arguing...”

  “I’m not arguing, I’m just disappointed. Where will you go?”

  “There’s a cabin out of town...It’s peaceful there...”

  “Can’t Craig and I come with you? We wouldn’t be any trouble. We’d go for walks and leave you to write...”

  “Maybe next time,” my father replied. “I love you,” he said. He sounded genuine but knowing how the story ended - with dad and that woman all those years later - I found it hard to believe the sentiment behind the words.

  “I love you too.” Genuine.

  Dad smiled at her and walked out of the room. Mum didn’t get up and follow. She just sat there and stared into the fire as though crushed by disappointment that my father was going away again. He was always going away when I was growing up. I remember now.

  I followed dad into the next room only to find myself back in the asylum’s corridor. Dad was standing with the doctor - both of them talking in hushed voices.

  “You can’t keep him here forever,” the doctor said.

  “I just need time,” my dad replied.

  “Time? Time for what? The longer you leave it the worse it will be. You need to tell your wife you have another child.”

  Anthony’s my brother?

  “You don’t understand. She’d never forgive me...”

  “You should have thought about the consequences at the start,” the doctor hissed - it was clear he and my father weren’t the best of friends.

  Dad pulled an envelope out of his pocket and thrust it against the doctor’s chest, “There’s more than enough in here...More than last month. Come on, I just need a little more time. Please. I’m begging you. It’s not just my family at stake here...If word got out about any of this...About my affair...My reputation would be ruined too. Come on...Please...”

  The doctor took a hold of the envelope and put it into his pocket.

  “You have one more month,” the doctor spat. He turned his back and walked away from my dad. The first time I had seen anyone turn their back on my father.

  My dad sighed, “I’ll come by again tomorrow...I’ve got a cabin just a short way from here...”

  I felt sick.

  Whoever was showing me all this...Whatever was making me see all this...

  I’m not sure I can take anymore.

  I closed my eyes and fell back against the wall.

  Padded walls?

  7.

  I opened my eyes.

  My cell again.

  Did I ever leave?

  Something’s different.

  The padding on the floor and walls isn’t quite as white as it used to be. It looks as though it’s been affected poorly by damp. Black mould growing in patches. I looked up to the corner of the ceiling. Plenty of webs but no spider. The cell door was wide open. The lights in the corridor, beyond my room, were off yet I could see the paint on the walls was peeling.

  “Hello?” I called out. My voice was shaking. “Doctor?”

  There was no response.

  I stood up and walked into the corridor.

  “Hello?” my voice echoed and bounced off the furthest point of the corridor. The place looked as though it had been empty for years. All of the cell doors were open. Slowly I walked down the corridor. I half expected something, or someone, to jump out on me but nothing did.

  The next corridor was the same other than the fact I could see a little light coming from a room at the other end. I hurried towards it - thankful for the sign of life. Seconds later I could hear screaming - an angry child. I ran the last few steps to see what was happening.

  A
s I turned the corner I realised I was back in the daycare room. A few people milling around, minding their own business or unsure of their business due to high levels of medication, and Anthony at a far table - sitting opposite him was my father. Anthony looked upset.

  I approached them and noticed he was surrounded by his painting tools - the picture he was working on was the last one I had noticed on the wall earlier...A child and man standing in front of the asylum. Father and son?

  “You promised! You promised!” Anthony was screaming at our father. “You said I could come home! You said I could!”

  My dad didn’t say anything. He just sat there - an angry expression on his face.

  Anthony continued, “You said when I was eight you’d take me away with you...You promised! YOU PROMISED!”“I can’t. I told you...My wife...She doesn’t know about you...”

  “Tell her!”

  “It’s not as simple as that!”

  “Why don’t you love me?”

  “I do!”

  “I want to come home! I’ll tell them!”

  “Don’t say that.”

  Anthony started to shout to everyone else in the room, “He’s my dad! He’s my dad! He’s my dad!”

  My dad suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Anthony by his throat - his tightening grip silenced him more or less immediately yet my dad didn’t let go or loosen his grip. He just kept the same pressure. The same force...

  Doctors and nurses were calling from across the room as they came running over - ordering dad to release his grip. It took two of the hospital staff to pull him clear. Anthony dropped to the floor as soon as dad let go but air still wasn’t getting through as he continued to choke.

  I looked at my father in horror. He fought the hospital staff off and stood up. Seeing what he had done he turned and ran from the room.

  One of the nurses called out, “He can’t breathe...He can’t breathe...Do something!”

  Another of the staff - a doctor - ordered her to, “Get a scalpel...quickly...”

  I couldn’t watch.

  I turned and gave chase to my dad. I hurried into what should have been the corridor. Not the corridor. A small room - a doctor’s office. Dad was sitting opposite the doctor.

  “This is how you repay me?” the doctor was angry. “We went out on a limb for you. Took him in so your dirty little secret wouldn’t come to light...So your family can live happily ever after...” The doctor shook his head. “You make me sick.”

  My dad didn’t normally allow people to speak to him like that. It was the first time I had actually seen him tongue-tied.

  “Is he going to be okay?” my dad asked eventually.

  “There were complications. His vocal chords were damaged...”

  “Damaged? Damaged how?”

  “You nearly crushed his throat completely...”

  Dad looked visibly upset, “Can I see him?”

  “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. In fact, I think it best if you just stay away. Either take him back to your happy little life or move on...Forget about him. You can’t keep leading him on like this. It’s not fair on him. It’s not fair on the staff here. Some are getting attached to him. Some of us more so than others, for obvious reasons...So what’s it to be?” he asked.

  Dad hesitated, “My wife wouldn’t understand...”

  The doctor looked disappointed.

  “I can’t lose her.”

  “If my daughter had survived the birth...Would things have been different?”

  Again, my dad didn’t answer.

  His daughter? My dad was having an affair with the doctor’s daughter? How many affairs did he have?

  “Perhaps you should just leave,” the doctor continued.

  “What should I tell him?”

  “Just leave.”

  There was a pause. Dad stood up.

  “I’ll send money...”

  “Don’t bother. Go. Stop coming here. You’re no longer welcome.”

  The doctor swiveled around, in his chair, so he didn’t have to face my father. I can’t say I blamed him. Had I been in the same position - I would have done the same. Dad should have come clean. He should have told mum. He should have told me I had a half-brother. Should have let us decide what to do about it. But he took it away from us.

  He took away everything.

  A sudden pain in the side of my head dropped me to my knees. I couldn’t help but close my eyes; shut them tight hoping it would make the pain disappear. For once it worked. I opened my eyes and instantly recognised where I was.

  My old bedroom. I was sitting on the floor, huddled up in a little ball; knees pulled close to my chest as though that would protect me from whatever was causing this fear I felt surge through my body.

  “It’s okay, they’ll be home soon...” a voice behind me. “Come on...Come downstairs...We’ll play a game...Before you know it, they’ll be home...”

  I felt some of the fear disappear from my body. Some of it. The person’s voice...Comforting...I looked over my shoulder.

  My babysitter.

  Victoria.

  I remember this day.

  The first time we met.

  Mum and dad had gone out for the night. I was about six years old; one of the earliest times I could remember them going out and leaving me with a stranger.

  I was scared at first but Victoria...Vicky...Of course...I knew there was something familiar about her. She looked older now. Older in the asylum. What’s she doing in there with me though?

  She always had a way about her - a way of making me feel better. That hasn’t changed.

  Another blinding pain in the side of my head.

  Eyes shut.

  Wish the pain away.

  I opened my eyes. Not in my bedroom anymore. Back in the office with the doctor and his helper. The doctor sitting there, opposite me, with that same sadistic smile on his face. The helper standing at my side with his fist clenched - ready to hit me again.

  “Wait!” I shouted. “Wait!”

  The doctor nodded to the helper, stopping him in his tracks. “Something you want to say?” he asked.

  “I know.”

  “You know what?”

  “You’re his grandfather...”

  “What?”

  “You’re his grandfather...My dad...Your daughter...”

  The doctor froze. The sadistic smile, on his face, disappeared - replaced with a deep look of regret.

  “What happened?” I asked. “You’re punishing me because of what my dad did? At least tell me what happened...”

  “You’re punishing yourself,” the doctor mumbled. He stood up and walked straight past me, with his helper, right out of the door.

  “What? That’s it? No...I need to know!” I stood up, unsteadily on my feet, and followed him out of the room but he wasn’t there.

  No one was.

  The corridor, outside of his room was empty. Derelict. Looked like it had been for years.

  I turned back to the room I had just come from. Same scenario. Peeling paint on the walls, dust and cobwebs...No table...No chairs...Nothing.

  “Hello?” I called out - distinct panic in my voice. My voice echoed with no one answering it. “Anyone?”

  I started to run down the corridors. A quick look in every room I ran past revealed the same as the last - empty. Derelict. Even doors which were once locked were now open for me.

  When I was starting to think I was the only one here I heard the sound of a woman screaming in pain. It was coming from a door to my right. I wasted no time in opening it...Empty and yet the screams continued. Male voices urging whoever it was to push. Male voices promising it was nearly over and that they could see a head. The screaming stopped suddenly. Male voices in a state of panic. A baby crying. I backed out of the room and continued to run down the corridor I was previously running down.

  Maybe all the doors are open?

  Maybe I can get out of here.