This centers on a deranged woman's path to becoming a complete nihilistic and feral serial killer. Emma Woodburn was put in the asylum for eleven years after killing her own husband and ten-year old son, along with the aging mother of a detective.
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At approximately 5:30, Emma is placed back in her isolated room of WHITE walls and still inside the WHITE straitjacket. At the ceiling of the containment stood very transparent glass where Dr. Cowen and NYPD detective Jordan Towers, an African American brutal force of nature, were chatting one on one about the woman-in-WHITE.
Here's what you must know. Jordan was the son of the late Mrs. Towers, the black old lady Emma brutally murdered years back when she was caught during her first murder. Jordan vowed vengeance on Emma, ensuring she got treated with extreme and violently harsh conditions in the psych ward every single day but these attempts were always thwarted by Cowen.
Emma knew all this at the back of her head. The hidden truth was that she mostly played her own psychiatrist anytime she was at sessions with Cowen, carefully studying his non-verbal behavior and diagnosing him. Cowen personally didn't like Detective Towers, neither did Towers fancy Cowen. At approximately 5:32, Emma was seated down at her favorite spot of the room to eavesdrop on the talk between both men.
"She still ain't got no memory of the day of the murders, doctor?", Towers seriously inquired.
"I think she does, detective," Cowen replied dimly, " I think she very much does but she fiegns memory loss at times. She's different. Ten times smarter than all the other patients. I searched her history dozen times and there was no sign of sociopathic tendencies or symptom of brain disorders. Emma's mental state is something that's never been recorded in the books. All she ever does is smile at pain and misery. She knows the rules, but pretends as if she doesn't know how to break them."
"So what? You saying she ain't got the crazies, doctor? You saying she killed ma mother and still remembers why she did it?", Towers pressed on dramatically.
"Hell, if I ever had the gift of reading Emma's mind, I'd be very much obliged, detective. But I myself hardly know how Emma Woodburn functions. The only way to know Emma more, is by far forming a paternal bond with her. She needs parents, detective."
"Bull shit," Towers spat back, as he grew uncomfortable with the way Emma grins back at him through the glass, "Look at her for yourself. See that right there? She knows she ain't never getting outta that cage. Imma do exactly what I told myself I was gonna do. Try as hard as I can to break her down to tiny goddamn pieces..."
After these words, Emma took her mind away from the cloud of the real world and into her dark fantasy she went again. What makes you sane, Emma Woodburn? At approximately 6:20, Emma was given limited freedom once again to watch the premiering seventh season of House of Cards, one of her many favorite shows. The one true character she admired was Claire Underwood, a woman whom Emma said represented powerful feminine symbolism.
Out of a dozen of the visibly hostile and the handicapped that couldn't even remember what it's like to be a human being anymore, Emma and her six psycho friends were left in the comfort zone. Emma always called them by the preferred nicknames already given them, though she knew exactly what their real names were. Seated around her were "Pope Apocalypto", a bald man in his seventies who never stopped yelling about the End Times approaching and his prophetic rhapsodies of seeing God in person.
