MADMAN'S ARMS

48

Still present in the gathering room, with my glare stuck on the sedated, intriguing man, I raised from the couch and walked over to the painting table only to get a closer look at the criminal seated about ten feet away.

Even if I laid eyes on him just as he arrived and already inspected his appearance by then, there was something inside of me being so extremely curious around brutally sick and wicked people, which made me want to approach him and take an even closer look.

I sat down on one of the wooden chairs beside a mid-aged woman who painted surprisingly beautiful on a big white paper.

Sometimes I forgot that the people in the hospital were not all destroyed, some of them were just weaker, and some of them just ended up here because their different way of being wasn't accepted nor wanted by the society. It was a sad fact, but unfortunately, it was true.

From where I now sat, I could sight Joseph much more rigorously than before. I didn't want to stare, because I was sure he could notice me in the corner of his eye if I did, and the last thing I wanted was to know what could happen if he exposed me glaring at him.

I talked to the lady seated beside me while carefully moving my gaze up and down to inspect the new inmate. He still didn't move an inch, he just sat there, staring out the rainy window.

I wondered if he was heavily drugged, or if he just felt threatened by the much bigger guard standing right next to him, making him so tranquil.

Suddenly I got interrupted by the door opening up to the room, and Brandon stepped inside with confident steps even though Frank walked right behind him.

He truly knew how to make an entrance that boy.

I noticed how he didn't see me at first, but the moment he did, he immediately started walking his way over to the table where I sat with the other patients.

The leer was broadly spread over his face as usual and I couldn't help but smirk at his handsome figure as he walked towards me over the wooden floorboards.

He sat down at the chair standing by the corner of the long table, and grabbed a piece of paper and a couple of pencils. Instinctively, I started grinning as I watched him begin with his work.

"I didn't know you draw?" I framed, and bit my lip in a gallivant way, holding my giggle in.

"I don't," He responded, glancing up at me with eyes filled with playfulness. Of course, he only sat here because he wanted to be near me.

I felt elated with the acquaintance that Brandon felt safe in my company and chose to hang out with me even in the gathering room in front of other patients, nurses and guardsmen, but I was still paranoid about making someone around us suspicious about our forbidden, shared secrets.

Brandon kept his eyes on the paper and drew something I couldn't solve even with my wildest imaginations, while I continued my spying of the old man still sitting quietly on the couch a short distance away from us.

I could see how his chest slowly moved up and down as he breathed, and I observed how his eyelashes flattered every time he blinked, but still he didn't move more than that.

Who was this man really?
What got him to end up in this place?

Stuck inside my most curious thoughts, I got interrupted by Brandon's arm carefully pushing mine to catch my attention.

"What are you staring at?" He asked, and his eyes got bigger with the question.

"Our new inmate," I stated quietly while discretely nodding my head forward. Brandon looked in the direction of where the man sat and in just one short second, the whole world stopped and I could feel how I lost my breath along all ability to move.