(ON HOLD) That Funny Guy's Daughter

Chapter I

The street lights flashed above me in an orderly manner that was somehow hypnotic. The ride took about forty five minutesfrom my apartment, and we still haven't reached our destination yet.

"That's your third visit this month, the place must have become your new home," the old taxi driver joked.

"You have no idea," my voice sounding as unamused as that rock we'd just run over. 

Little did he know that he was one of the dozen cabs I've used this month.

This "monthly visit" thing was Desmond's idea to "keep a healthy relationship between us" because, "I'm the only thing he has left" aparently.

The only thing he has left to use, to finish his sentence. He's been using me as his little pawn ever since I could remember.

I'm surprised I haven't ended up at some juvenile hall with all the things I've had to go through because of him. Technically, it wasn't me who committed the crimes, I'm just the messenger sending orders to a group of "specialized people" who seem to have no problem getting their hands dirty for a little buck.

Why am I doing this you may ask?  To be completely honest, I don't have a specific reason. All I can say though, is that I'm getting real fuckin' tired of this role I'm playing.

The car came to a stop and I was instantly snapped back to reality.
"That'll be 48,"

I pull out the folded money from my back pocket and hand him 50, "keep the change" I open the door to exit the cab, "don't take off, I wont take long."

He responds with a nod and I turn to face the main rusty gates of, "Arkham Asylum".  My boots swept through the piles of neglected crusty dead leaves as I pushed one of the gates open ignoring the dirty looks I was getting from the security guard.

***

The asylum was oddly quiet, the fact that it's around one am may explain it. I keep my freezing hands balled in the baggy pockets of my hoodie and start to march towards the white metallic push door. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I inhaled the rotten scent of the asylum, you'd think they'd give the place a little makeover by now.

I doubt the doctors, security guards, and any employee around here hadn't passed by a strange phase of "hallucination" at least three times from the day they started working in this hellhole.

I keep my stare on the worn out grey-ish white floor tiles till I reached the reception.
"ID," the receptionist says without even making eye contact with me.

I slam the ID on the marble table that had a glass separating the two of us with a tiny mouse hole like opening allowing the items to pass through it.

She glares at me then snatches the ID from the table, "you're underage, you're supposed to accompany an adult," she scoffs then goes back to sharpening her disgusting yellow nails.

"Are you kidding me? I've been here a over a hundred times! Hell I've been here more than I've been in my own room!"

"Not my problem" she spots.

"I'll break you" I warned.

She sits there gawking at me in disbelief, and right before shit got real a stern hand suspended my shoulder from moving. I shove myself away from the person that I thought was security but was staring at Blakey, one of the employees who works near the private rooms, he's also in the same chemistry, biology, history, and physics class I'm in.