Breaking Chains

Good Bye Roger

There was a knock at Roger’s office door.

“Yes?” Roger addressed. The door opened and a nurse entered.

“Dr. Roger,” she said, “it appears as if patients three thirty-two, two twenty-one, and one sixty-seven are checking out.” The pencil in Roger’s hand snapped in half.

“What,” he growled. Everyone could check out of White Haven whenever they wanted too but no one ever actually left. Roger stood up from his chair. “Stop them,” he demangded.

“We can’t,” the little nurse said. “They are here voluntarily.”

“Patient two twenty-one and one sixty-six haven’t been declared mentally fit yet. I can keep them here as long as I please.”

“But sir, they have consent from their legal guardian.”

“I am patient two twenty-ones guardian!” Roger roared.

Mr. Thorne opened his box of chocolates while Samantha signed some papers.

“You followed my instructions and didn’t tell anyone your last name right.”

“Of course, my father is the last thing I want to deal with. Are you sure this is legal?” Samantha asked. She stared suspiciously at the forms in front of her while Celia bit imprints onto her pencil.

“Probably not,” Sarah commented.

“Yes, yes, perfectly legal,” Mr. Thorne assured Samantha. “Just sign here, and initial here.”

“This is crazy even for you, Mr. Thorne,” Sarah said. “You realize if this works that it will be permanent, not temporary,” Sarah clarified.

“I am aware.”

“Good, I just wanted to make things perfectly clear because your actions are leading me to believe that you are in fact deserving of this institution.”

“I’m sorry, what are you aware of?” Mr. Crosley inquired.

“Ignore it,” Samantha said, “he does that. What am I even signing?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Mr. Thorne said. “It will get you out of White Haven and that is all you need to know. Is that all Mr. Crosley?” Mr. Thorne asked.

“Oh, er, yes sir,” Mr. Crosley answered. “Um, Mr. Thorne, if you wouldn’t mind my asking, who is the..umm...” he looked over Samantha, not completely sure if girl was an appropriate term to label the mangled figure before him. “The hospital patient,” he decided on.

“Oh, that’s right!” Mr. Thorne exclaimed. He rubbed his hands together in an excited manner. “I didn’t get you all acquainted. Mr. Crosley, this is my younger sister, Celia.” Celia pulled the lead out of her pencil and tired to write with it the leadless pencil. To her great surprise, no word appeared on the paper.

“The wood doesn't write,” she informed them all, with a tone of grave importance.

“Charmed,” Mr. Crosley said uncertainly. He took a large drink of his tea. Interactions with Mr. Thorne usually involved a degree of strangeness but this even more upsetting than usual and he wasn’t even hiring Mr. Thorne to kill someone this time.

“I’d put that tea cup down,” Mr. Thorne advised. “Samantha, this is Mr. Crosley, Mr. Crosley, this is Samantha Crick.” Mr. Crosley's tea cup shook violently in his hand.

“S-s-samant-tha Cr-cr-cr-”

“Crick,” Mr. Thorne finished. “Yes, you heard right. Samantha, Mr. Crosley is a very valued client of mine. He is a lawyer of some sort and represents the entire board of the bank he works at, your fathers bank. He was the one who delivered the order for your death.”