The Cabin II: Asylum

by Matt Shaw

“I think...I was tired. The drive here was long.”

  “I can imagine. The traffic can be quite heavy on that route...”

  I shifted uneasily in my seat. They know I’m lying. I know they do. How long will they let me continue?

  “And...” I stuttered. Damn. Pull yourself together. “And I was stressed from what happened...”

  “At the store...”

  “Yes...”

  “The store clerk...”

  “Yes...I was tired and stressed. I didn’t sleep whilst I waited for morning to come round...”

  “And why were you waiting for morning?”

  “I was going to go to the Sheriff Department...Explain what happened.”

  “Of course. I remember now.”

  “I was going to...”

  “And why didn’t you just wait for the Sheriff, or go right there after the incident?”

  My mind is blank.

  I can’t remember.

  Why didn’t I go straight there? I could have...

  Wait.

  My wife.

  My kids...I wanted them to leave town. I didn’t want them to be part of it. I didn’t...

  “Well?” the doctor pushed me for an answer.

  “It was late. I had to walk back to town. I didn’t want to walk through the woods in the darkness...Thought it best to wait until morning...”

  The doctor made a funny noise in his throat. I’m not sure if he was just trying to clear some phlegm or whether it was a noise to show he understood what I meant...Perhaps he even agreed with my logic?

  “Tell me about the boy. The one with the scar down his neck...”

  I hesitated. I remember everything about the boy. I remember the way the stitches criss-crossed down the length of his neck, from some botched operation...I remember his dead eyes staring at me...The sound of the scream that filled my head despite seemingly not coming from his mouth. Even his smell. An earthy odour.

  “I was saying, I made a mistake. I know he wasn’t there. I know there was no boy.”

  “Oh?”

  This was the first time I had denied his existence.

  “It was my imagination.”

  “Imagination?”

  “Yes. Caused, no doubt, by stress and tiredness.”

  “Quite an imagination you have,” said the doctor. He still didn’t give any indication as to whether he believed me or not. I’d rather know - one way or another - what his thoughts were.

  “My dad used to tell me stories about the patients from here...They said the doctors would...” I went quiet. No point going into it. I don’t want to upset him after all. The doctor raised an eyebrow. He looked down at a pad, on the desk near the tape recorder, and scribbled down a note with a plastic pen. I couldn’t read it as much as I wanted to. Reading upside down wasn’t a strength of mine.

  “The stories featured a boy with a scar down his neck?”

  I nodded.

  “And a scream?”

  I nodded again.

  “You said, when you first got here, that you only had a year left to live. You explained that, if you heard the scream of one of the asylum’s ghosts...You’d die in a year. Your notes...” the doctor opened a file, the last item on the desk, and cast his eye down the first sheet, “...You linked that little story to your father’s heart attack, didn’t you? You told my colleague that he heard the scream, when you didn’t, and a year later he was dead.”

  I forgot I had told them that.

  “Coincidence,” I said after a slight pause.

  “Hmmm.”

  The doctor scribbled something else down on the pad of paper. I wish I could see what it said. I might have been able to use it to my advantage.

  Might have.

  “The locals, around the town, they speak of similar stories...”

  “I know,” I said. “I remember one of them telling my dad.”

  “Emphasis on the word ‘stories’. You know they are just that?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I was confused.”

  “So now you’re saying you didn’t see any ghosts?”

  I nodded again. Still no expression on the doctor’s face. I still couldn’t tell if he believed me or not.

  “We have a test...” he looked up at the helper. I, in turn, shot him a glance. The helper didn’t give anything away. He just stood perfectly still. The doctor turned his attention back to me. “We have a test which tells us whether you’re lying or not.”

  “A lie detector test?” I asked.

  The doctor showed his yellow, nicotine-stained teeth as he smiled.

  “Yes,” he continued, “a lie detector test...”

  “Okay...?”

  “Would you be willing to cooperate with such a test?”

  I hesitated for a second before nodding. I’ve heard there is a way of beating lie detector tests but I’ve never heard the exact method needed. I’ll just have to try my best to convince the machine I’m telling the truth. The fact the doctor wants me to take the test...Surely he must think I’m telling the truth or else he wouldn’t have volunteered the test. I just hope I have as much luck with the machine. If I can fool that, too, then I am one step closer to getting out of here. A real jail has to be better than this. It has to be.

  “Well okay then,” said the doctor. His eyes lit up brightly as though my cooperation gave him a sense of satisfaction. A feeling of unease creeps through my body.

  To my side, the helper stepped over to the doctor and handed him something out of his shirt pocket. What was that? Whatever it was, the doctor cupped it closely, in the palm of his hand. I’m not sure whether he just doesn’t want to drop whatever it is or whether he is actively trying to hide it from my sight.

  Is this part of the test?

  The helper stepped behind me and suddenly grabbed my arms.

  “What is this?” I demanded. My heart was beating harder and faster than I had ever felt it before. Harder than when I first saw the boy, even.

  No one answered me.

  The helper pushed my arms forward so that my hands were on the doctor’s table.

  “Please try not to move,” the doctor said, “and we’ll begin the test.”

  He opened his clenched fist to reveal a small pile of pins.

  “What are you doing?” I asked; the panic was clearly audible in my voice.

  The doctor took one of the first pins and positioned it under the nail of my small finger, on my left hand. The other pins were positioned, in the same way, under my other nails as the he explained what he was doing.

  “This is the test,” he said. His voice was quiet and slow of speech as he concentrated on where best to stick the pins, “it will tell me if you’re lying or not.”

  “What are you talking about? How so?” I turned back to the helper who kept my arms locked in position despite my best efforts to break free from his grip. “Get the fuck off of me...”

  “Once the pins are in place...” the doctor continued, “...we then hit them with the edge of your folder...”

  “You’re insane...”

  “You’re the one seeing ghosts,” the doctor bit back. “This is a tried and tested method for revealing liars...Are you a liar, Craig?” He looked up at me. His once bright eyes looked a darker shade of black now.

  Don’t admit you were lying.

  Don’t tell him you did see the boy.

  Don’t.

  He’s bluffing.

  He’s a professional.

  He wouldn’t do this.

  He wouldn’t.

  “I was tired and confused,” I insisted.

  “Well then...We hit the pins with the edge of your folder...” He picked up the folder of notes, from the table, and positioned it against the pins. “If you scream...You’re lying...If you’re telling the truth...You will remain silent.”

  “You’re insane,” I said again. I could feel the sweat beading on my forehead but still refused to admit I was lying. I have to try everything to get out of here; everything to con
vince them I’m well enough to stand trial for what I did. Anything and everything.

  With no more words the doctor swung the folder into the pins which, in turn pushed deep underneath my finger nails. As the agonizing pain tore through my body I couldn’t help but scream...

  2.

  I was standing at the edge of the forest. The lake was in front of me, along with my family; two daughters and my loving wife. I couldn’t see them. I could just hear their laughter as they enjoyed the last bit of sunshine the clear blue skies offered them, on our weekend vacation. Splashing noises, coming from somewhere at the edge of the lake’s crystal blue waters, were audible between the infectious fits of giggles.

  I couldn’t help but smile despite knowing none of this was real. It was just a dream - one happy scenario of many that I had thought about since what had happened in the cabin. This is what the weekend should have been about; my wife and kids enjoying themselves whilst I worked on my book, back at the cabin, before joining them to share in with the fun, laughter and memories to cherish in the years to come.

  I stepped into the clearing and headed towards the small bushes a little further down the banks of the lake. I couldn’t see past the foliage but presumed my family must be playing just beyond them as there was nowhere else for them to be so hidden.

  As I neared the bushes I was able to see over the top of them. There they were, playing on the edge of the water; my family.

  “Hey!” I shouted. They didn’t respond. “Room for one more?” I called out, a little louder, as I continued to move towards them.

  Again, they didn’t respond.

  I got to the bushes. I didn’t realise they were so thick. There must be a way around them. The kids may have crawled through them but not Susan. She’d have wanted to go around them; especially if she were the one lugging all the bags as I suspect she was.

  “Fuck it,” I whispered.

  I dropped to my knees and started to crawl through the undergrowth.

  Thankfully there are no brambles.

  No bugs as of yet either.

  Also a good thing.

  As I got to the other end, I pushed through with my hands followed by my head. I could see the clearing but I couldn’t see Susan, or my daughters, Ava and Jamie.

  I could still hear them though; laughing and having fun. It’s strange. When I’m awake I struggle to recall the sound of their voices, even their laughter. It’s as though my memory is punishing me for what I had done by taking the sounds away from me. At least, in my dreams, I can still hear them. Even if they are short lived.

  “Honey?!” I called out. I stood up and looked around. I could see them, playing in the water just off a wooden pier which ran from the bank of the lake. Ava was hanging onto the edge of a small rowing boat, her way of staying afloat - with the added aid of inflatables around her arms. She was kicking back with her legs causing large splashes to go over her mum and sister. She was in hysterics while they were screaming as more and more water soaked them. I couldn’t help but laugh. I’ll run up the pier and jump in next to them...I’ll soak them all.

  I removed my tee shirt and kicked my shoes off. I was only wearing shorts now and it didn’t matter if they were to get wet. Besides, with this sun, they’ll soon dry. With any luck they haven’t seen me yet and I can surprise them all. I crept onto the pier’s wooden floorboards, making sure to keep low, and dropped my shirt. By the time I looked back up my family were gone from view.

  I looked around.

  They’ve gone.

  They couldn’t have come out of the water.

  I would have seen them!

  “Susan?” I called out.

  Nothing.

  “Ava? Honey?”

  Again, there was no reply.

  “Ava!” I repeated louder this time.

  Although they had disappeared, I was used to it. This always happened in my dreams. You’d think I’d learn from the many dreams I’ve had since that day, but I never do. I’ll keep looking for them and I’ll never find them. They’re there one minute and gone the next. The strange thing about this dream, this time, though...There’re no sounds other than the sound of my own breathing.

  The trees were swaying gently indicating a breeze but I couldn’t hear the wind rustling the many leaves. Even my footsteps on the wooden boards made no noise as I continued to walk to where my family had been playing. There was nothing. It was as though the world had been muted.

  I came to the edge of the pier, next to where the boat had been tied. No sign of my family. The water wasn’t clear anymore - it was a murky colour - hard to see anything under the surface. They wouldn’t be down there. They wouldn’t have gone under. I know they wouldn’t have. One could have but not all three of them. Especially Jamie, the eldest daughter, she’s a strong swimmer.

  No.

  They definitely aren’t down there.

  So why am I being drawn to the ripples dancing across the water?

  Come on, I know they’re not in there.

  I know they’re not struggling for air, out of sight, in the murky depths.

  Walk away.

  I called out for my wife again but no words managed to escape my mouth; not just the world that was on mute.

  Mute?

  I couldn’t take my eyes away from the water.

  What if they’re under the water?

  What if they’re thrashing around, stuck in weeds?

  What if they’re screaming for my help but also on mute?

  I know they’re not.

  I know it.

  I know I’m going to jump into the water and find nothing.

  I never find them once they vanish.

  Yet...I have to go in there...

  I jumped into the water and immediately ducked my head underneath the murky surface. Despite the water stinging my eyes, I did my best to keep them open on the off chance I could see anything which resembled the shapes of my family. I couldn’t see anything though. Not because they weren’t there, for sure...Just because it was too dark.

  Running out of air.

  I broke the surface of the lake, still in mute, and took a large gulp of air before ducking under again. Just once I wished I could find them. Just once I wished my dream would have a happy ending. It would have made sense for a happy ending considering the state of my life. I was always led to believe dreams worked in reverse; if you had a bad dream - in your waking life you’d have good fortune - and if you had a good dream...In the real world, you’d be in for a rough time. That being said, I was also told that if you lost your teeth in your dreams, it was supposed to mean you were soon to be losing some friends. Well I’ve had the ‘teeth’ dreams and I’ve never lost friends afterwards.

  Back under the water, I still couldn’t see anything. They can’t be here though. I know they can’t. It wouldn’t have made sense for all of them to suddenly slip under without as much as a scream of alarm. I could understand if it were just Ava who was missing, what with her being the youngest - and weakest - of the three but...Not all of them.

  I broke the surface again.

  Damn dirty water is stinging my eyes. I shut them as tight as I could in a hope to cleanse them. Can’t feel it working. A few more seconds of trying to force the water from my eyes and I slowly opened them once more - I half expected them to start stinging again.

  As soon as my vision cleared I saw the boy directly in front of me. He looked just as he did in the cabin. The same dead look in his black eyes. The same scar down his throat. He opened his mouth...

  The world was no longer in mute as his terrifying scream filled my head.

  * * * * *

  I woke with a start just as I always did. I don’t know why. I should be used to it now; used to him appearing from out of nowhere. It’s the same every night. Every dream.

  Did my dad go through this, too, on the lead up to his death?

  Do I have a year left like he did?

  A year before a fateful heart attack steals my li
fe?

  A year being haunted by what I’ve done?

  I’d rather die now.

  “You okay?”

  I jumped again at the sound of a female voice. I rolled onto my side, on the padded floor, and looked towards the door. A woman in her mid to late twenties was crouched in the doorway. Despite asking if I was okay she didn’t look too concerned either way.