Old Man Feros carried the five away

Tail pinned on and donkey voice a bray

But how should I remember them by?

Poor Mother Goodie cried out in dismay

To which Old Man Feros did quickly reply

The right hand o' each for yourself, I say!

*************

Riverbend Behavior Health Center, October 16

I knew what the right answers were. I knew just what my mom and her friendly boss wanted to hear so that they could check a few boxes on the mental health evaluation sheet, prescribe five or six types of medication and then congratulate me for being so cooperative.

"So do you believe that you actually saw your friend who's been missing for five years? Did he appear to you?" Dr. Stephenson, the head of the Riverbend Behavior Health Center, asked me.

"It seemed like I saw him, but I know that's impossible," I said. "I know it wasn't really him."

Except that it was really him. Levi.

"Your friend might still be alive, and I know you would like to see him again. Right?"

"Yeah, it must be some kind of wishful thinking." I twisted my hands together before remembering that my every action was being noted on a piece of paper. Folding them in my lap I gazed steadily at the doctor. I was very careful not to look at the mangled body of a girl hanging sideways on the wall by ivy vines. When I had first walked in, she was squirming, but now she simply leered at me and licked her blackened lips.

I couldn't let the kind doctor know I saw the patients from a 80 years ago still roaming the halls of his modern institution. He would make me move in with them.

"And what did your friend say to you? Your mother told me that you heard him say something," Dr. Stephenson continued.

"I thought I heard a voice telling me to run, to escape the town before something bad happened."

"What sort of bad thing might happen, do you think?" he asked.

"That I would disappear like he did."

"You are referring to the day his brother and he were kidnapped, I presume?"

I nodded, looking at my lap now. Beetles were pouring out of the girl's mouth onto the wall and down towards the floor. One was on the carpet coming for my mom and me.

I had to get out of there.

"Can we walk around?" I asked, breathless. "I've never actually done a tour, and my mom talks about this place all the time."

"Sweetheart, I don't think now-" my mom started to say.

"Fine, that's fine, let's take a walk." The doctor stood and motioned for us to go at the same time the first beetle reached my chair. Standing, I squished it under my thick sole with a satisfying crunch.

We strolled down the hall of the historical building constructed in 1935 to lock up the local lunatics. It housed the doctor's offices and tour exhibits currently.

"Your fears are very reasonable, you know, Brooklyn," the doctor said. He continued talking, telling me that these were natural responses to past trauma, but at that moment I wasn't listening to him anymore.

Slime was growing over the tiles and cheerful wall paper, vines were creeping across the ceiling and four scrawny, half-naked children were sitting in a far corner. They turned their faces to me and reached out their arms. All of their right hands had been cut off. I focused on the window at the end of the hall. I was not seeing this. I was not seeing this.

A young man came around a corner and drew up sharply before walking into me. Blue eyes narrowed in anger and a mess of blond-white hair cut a searing path straight through my chest to hack my heart in two. Sean. Sean had aged five years and was staring at me. He frowned in confusion for a second, then raised a jagged knife to point it at me.

I stopped walking and tried to pretend I was looking through Sean at the far window. It wasn't possible for him to be here, and a part of me knew that it wasn't real, but the other part of me screamed that it was.

"Brooklyn! You have to get out of here," Sean said. The one-handed children were coming closer to beg. He motioned with his knife to shoo them off. "He's been watching you. He's coming for you. You have to get home and stay there. Now!"

"Hhoo...." I choked. "Who?" I ignored the sharp glance from my mother and the doctor's soft intake of breath.

Sean grabbed my arm. His fingers dug painfully into my skin. "Levi. Levi is coming for you."

*********** Thanks for taking the time to read! I have been turning this story around in my head for nearly 10 months and thought it was time to get it on 'paper'! Don't be shy if you have any questions or comments, and if you enjoyed it I would love for you to click the star so I know. My question for you, dear reader is: do you think Brooklyn is as mentally disturbed as her mom and the doctor believe? **********