The walls were dank, rust and rotting blood covering the ceilings and floors. Rumors always said that the Patient was the one who spilled the blood of nurses and doctors passing by. Scarlet herself was fascinated by the rumors, hearing about it from the men she invited into her room. She wasn’t necessarily allowed to have men or other patients enter her ‘sleeping area’ (she preferred the term cell), but she got bored most days and wanted entertainment. The days passed and blended together, an endless tunnel that would keep persisting until she ended her own life to get out from this hell hole.
It was her own fault for being put here.
Scarlet was sent to the institute for trying to take back her daughter from a foster home. Her parents told her she was unfit and too young to raise a child; however she believed she could easily be a mother. She was forced to give away her child and was soon caught for an attempt at ‘stealing’ a toddler.
She didn’t care anymore. She knew that she would never find her daughter again. But who would want to know that their mother was in a mental hospital--no. An insane asylum. She wasn’t mad, even with the circumstances she was thrown in. She knew her ABCs and could recite the pledge of allegiance. She could read and write as well as a scholar and was easy on the eyes. At least she believed she was. The institute claimed that a patient could only gaze upon themself once every week in fear that they would get too attached to their looks and become obsessed. The mirror itself was in the main living area which was open for anyone--besides visitors. In her opinion, this place was going to crumble slowly, changing people for the worst.
While being escorted down the hall, she caught sight of a nurse. His name was Radley Oakes. She never once forgot the names of people in the hospital, finding it to be rude. Supposedly he was her nurse for the daily orientation. She conferred that it was meant to check if she was getting better. She was already fine. She was normal. Unlike some people who were attacking some of the doctors and nurses. The Patient specifically, was rumored to be chained up so heavily because of their unwavering strength. Stories claimed there was a creature inside the Patient that was rabid, devilish even! Demons invoked the poor soul. She was fortunate to be given a simple lock on her door. That did not mean she was favored though, she was still pushed around like everyone else.
Scarlet was rushed to her quarters. It was past her time to be in the common room where the patients were allowed to paint and listen to music on old record players. It was dusty in there anyways and gave her allergies. Sighing, she plopped down onto her uncomfortable mattress, glaring at the floor. You deserve so much better than this life, she convinced herself, feeling irritated. Every so often these thoughts paid her a visit even when they weren’t wanted. “I know, I should be with my daughter.” She muttered, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. It is unfair you are stuck with psychos. “I should get up and--” there was a knock on the door. It was Radley.
He came in with a notebook, a red pen tucked into his pocket. The log. He asked his usual questions, but all Scarlet could think about was how her thoughts were right. She was clenching the sheets on her bed without a second thought, staring into space. She needed a distraction. “Radley, could you come here? I think my nightgown is tied too tight at the top.”
His eyes widened, adam's apple bobbing noticeably. “I will b-be right back.” He hurried out of the room, closing the door behind him with a loud bang. She hadn’t realized it until he left that she had gotten progressively closer to the door.
Another nurse came back, handing her a different gown as well as bracelets. They were silver and very pretty with a number hooked onto her new bangles. He had given her his number for when she came out of the hospital! How sweet, she had a secret admirer. The nurse put them on her wrists before scurrying out of the room, leaving her new nightgown on her bedside table.

She awoke to a piercing scream.
No one was allowed to have clocks in their rooms, the doctors feared the patients may get too attached to the idea of leaving once and for all, counting all the hours left until their departure. However, from the silence outside her door, Harriet guessed it was near night time. The usual noises of rushing footsteps and rolling carts were inaudible. It was quiet besides the echoing of a scream ringing in her ears.
She debated on remaining in bed, ignoring the shrill screech. At least, that was before she heard a bang on her door. It was a consistent pounding of fist to metal. Her body shook uncontrollably, the world swaying under her feet as she took a step towards the door. Her bare feet touched cold tiles, sending chills up her spine. The knocking became violent, her bed beginning to shake. The force was unwavering. Her eyes widened for a split second, her heart stopping. She knew of only one person--no, thing--that could do something as insane as this.
The Patient.
She needed help. Running to her roommate’s bed, she tried to shake Clarissa awake. “Wake up! Wake up!” However, as she shook her bunkmate, her body began to vanish into a fog as if she was never there to begin with. Harriet’s mouth began to open as if she was about to shriek, but she choked, her words coming out as an indistinct groan. The illusions only became worse as her life flashed before her eyes, the fire she almost burned in struck her vision. Run, the voices told her, run before they catch you and know your secrets. The pounding became louder. Momentarily, she had forgotten that there was a monster banging on her door, dents noticeable in the rusting metal.
Her feet carried her to the door and she gripped the door knob, prepared to meet her fate. Her fingers were white, her hold so tight she could see bones protruding from her skin. Taking in a deep breath, she pulled at the doorknob, unleashing whatever hid behind her cell door.
She did a tricky maneuver so the Patient couldn't catch her, and she sprinted down the hall. She had been let out few times to wander the halls, but she couldn’t recollect all the grime and dirt sticking in between the crevices of brick and tile. She had once believed the hospital was a safe place, somewhere she could feel comfortable in, with no fears following her. But the pitter-patter of clanking weights hitting the ground was all she could hear. That terror of how she might be suffocated by the emotions of pain due to a bloodthirsty patient haunting her was all she could think. Would this truly be the end? Would she have her last thoughts be about her past life, including memories of burning flesh and loss of…
Her neck was heavy, her body becoming slower. She was never fed much and did not have the strength she should have. The Patient kept chasing her down a maze of halls before she was stuck at a dead end. The door to the common room. Without thought, she opened the door, ready to meet her fate and die fighting a maniac.

The jewelry she was given was dangerous. She could no longer take off her bracelets, they were attached to her. Almost like a tattoo, they could never be removed unless extreme precautions had to be made. She had scars along her wrists from the scratching of nails to skin. The bangles were too tight, giving her burns that she did not want to relive. She missed her past life with her family. She knew this hospital was for the mentally insane, however she always denied that belief because she was normal. She was sane. Her head was in the correct mindset and she was sure of it. But why was she all of a sudden tied down to this bed, caught up in chains as if she was a fish caught on a hook. Leave.
She screamed at the top of her lungs.
Scarlet hollered and kicked the air as if it was the nurses and doctors who had kept her here as a prisoner. The tons on her shoulders became heavier until she collapsed, falling on the floor. Her bed was a mess, sheets sprawled everywhere, the cuts she opened leaving stains on dirty white covers. She had to leave.
Her ears perked up as a heavy object of some sort was being thrown at her door. It was coming to take her. She knew the day would come when her life would be over. She would never get to say goodbye to her daughter in that foster home. She would never take her back to their home where they could live happily. She got up haphazardly, rushing to her door. She could face the doctors herself, take them head on and prove she deserved to be let out. Letting out a screech, the sound of a banshee, she opened the door to be face to face with darkness.
She fell, her legs giving out under her as if she was tripped. No doctors… The rumors of a patient so horrifying yet dangerous flooded her mind. As silent as a mouse, but as fierce as a lion… The Patient had come for her.
She scrambled on the ground. The true identity of the hospital washed away, leaving her with broken and cracked walls. The floor was slimy and dirty as if it had never been washed. The shadow followed her, taking steps forward. She was a goner. But she wouldn’t die without a fight.
Scarlet hoisted herself up from the ground, trembling violently. Her feet reacted before her mind understood what was happening. She was going to outrun the monster before it could end her. Sprinting down the endless hallways, she was trapped by the common room. She had no choice but to go in and hide before the Patient took her. Her breathing was heavy and she could hear the footsteps behind her, coming at a fast pace. “Please no!” she cried, shaking the knob. She could only pray it would give in and let her inside. She would go back and see her daughter, Clarissa, before it would be too late and she would disappear for good. The door swung open, and all she could see was the mirror staring back at her.

No one was behind her.
    The illusions were false.
        She was the monster.
In the mirror, the reflection was the same reflection Harriet Dubet saw. No one stood behind her because the shadows of a maniac following her in chains was herself. Scarlet Ainsworth stood in front of the mirror, seeing the same reflection. Her fear of dying due to a monster was impossible because she herself was the monster.
They were the Patient.
The realization hit hard. The rumors were about her--them. In the mirror, the moon from the windows illuminated the face of three girls hidden by one face. Harriet gulped, the cowrie necklace was a chain. She felt like a dog. Scarlet shuddered, the bangles were cuffs. She felt like a prisoner. The Patient was lifeless, the bruises on her skin were inflicted by herself. She felt like a creep, not wanted in this world.
That’s when the memories filled their heads, connecting to one mind.

Laurel was herself. However, she had a problem. She had split personalities. At eighteen years old, she became pregnant. Her parents were infuriated, telling her to rid herself of her child. She became angry and left, having the child on her own before her daughter, Clarissa, was taken away. Not because Laurel couldn’t handle being a mother, but because her daughter was very sick. She sobbed, feeling anguish and could not understand anything before she took things into her own hands. She went to a foster home, claiming her daughter was there. In anger, she burned the house to the ground, searching for her baby to take back home. Her daughter was gone, dying from a disease in the hospital.
She was a delusional woman. Lost after the years of pain and heartache following her life. She was found in the fire, her head having damage after being hit with falling beams. She was forever gone and the girl she once was vanished in thin air. Her world was over and the hope of being normal was thrown away.
She now stared back at herself, seeing the real her for the last time before the ringing in her head ended and the voices in her mind were gone. Her personalities would never be seen again because she was going back home finally, prepared to see her daughter for the first time.