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The girls' reactions turned out exactly like I thought they would.

Their chins stayed glued to the floor and their eyes were bigger than I ever thought they could get. It was almost like they thought I was the one that was crazy. But this was my job.

All of them had been working here longer than me and they were used to criminal and outrageous patients. But apparently, Brandon was something different, and an exception for that matter, for all of them.

As the minutes of our lunch break passed, we sat in unusual silence. It was awkward and I only felt uncomfortable, almost like I had done something wrong.

I didn't want to feel freezed out because I wanted to handle my job professionally. Brandon had, indeed, not done anything to me. Yet.

Janet looked at Harriet with a worried face and Mildred nodded her head at Harriet who then coughed out like she prepared to say something, and the second after, she decided to break the silence.

"Beverly, darling. We feel there are some things you need to know about Brandon," Said Harriet.

"We didn't want to tell you at first, but since you're the one treating him now. You deserve to know the things he's done," Janet filled in.

I looked at them all with confusion.

"But why didn't you want to tell me before?" I asked while staring at the three of them. They looked ashamed as they shrugged their shoulders.

"Because Brandon Barlowe is a murderer. He's responsible for some of the most famous crimes in England. I'm sure you've heard of the family who got brutally murdered in their own house? Who were found later, laying in their own blood, with the children placed in their mother's arms in their bed? Or about the pregnant woman who got stabbed to death while she was walking home alone?" Harriet's words made me feel ill, and I cringed my body to ease the unpleasant feeling. What was she really talking about? It was like I didn't want to hear her say it out loud. Did I really want to know the rest?

"Yes, I've heard?"

"Both the mother and the baby died. It was her uncle who found her dead, right outside her house. There was also this young foster boy, by name Conrad Barney. He was found dead at the foster care, by an eight year old girl. He laid peacefully in his bed, with his throat sliced up, holding his teddy bear tightly. It was just like someone placed him that way after murdering him? That someone, Beverly, was Brandon. He did those things,"

I swallowed hard as I felt my eyes tear up. This couldn't be true. It had come to my acknowledgement that in some way, Brandon was a guy to be terrified of, but I never thought the things he was convicted for were this extreme.

I knew he was a murderer, I just never thought he was a serial killer, choosing children and pregnant women to be his victims. I had heard about those crimes when they were published, as they were all over the newspapers and the radio. Innocent people had been killed and there was a murderer running around in London. But I never saw his face or heard his name before.

I remembered me and my father speaking about the terrible happenings and discussing how a person ever could be able to commit such a rough action. But it must have been at least five years ago, if not more.

By now I thought that killer was locked up in an isolation cell in the toughest prison, if not even sentenced to death by the electric chair or lethal injection. Not that he was there, at St: Nicolai Psychiatric Hospital, just a few walls away from me and even in my own care of treatment.

"It can not be true, is that really him? Shouldn't he be in prison? Or dead?" I didn't want to humiliate Harriet by questioning her information, but I was undeniably in shock.

"As he was only 19 years old when he got arrested, he was too young to be sentenced to death. It's now six years ago, and he will be locked up for life, but he's also sick, Beverly, and as we know by our education, criminal or not criminal, he has the right to get psychological and medical treatment," The pieces of the puzzle slowly began to fall together. Only a mentally sick person had the capability to commit such actions. The lump in my stomach got even heavier with the information that Brandon was so young. I knew by his features that he was a young man, but I wouldn't have guessed that he was only one year older than myself.

"I understand. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom," I murmured as I tried to hold my tears in. This was way too much for me to handle at once. As I was already scared of Bradon before, without this information, this didn't make it any better. The fact that I would have to see this man in just a couple of minutes, made me feel nauseous.

As I was trying to catch my breath to handle the panic inside of me, the emotions took over and I threw myself over the lavatory to let them out. The tears ran down my cheeks as I let out the chaos in the toilet.

These physical reactions were not healthy for my body and I knew it, but I also knew that this was just my fourth week at the institution and I was not yet really used to everything.

The whole Brandon thing was a case of its own and it just made me feel overwhelmed in a way I hadn't experienced before.

I had to understand that every second I would have to spend close to that man, I would be overwatched and secure, and even if it was hard to feel good about treating such a rough criminal, it was his right and against my promise not to do it. He was a sick man and no matter the opinion, he deserved to be treated.

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