Edenvale Psychiatric Hospital sat at the end of a long private drive in Bel Air hills. At the time, it didn't look like a hospital. It looked like an unmarked facility hiding in plain sight. Despite being surrounded by one of the most elite neighborhoods, the facility was a shadow. There were no signs of a normal hospital, no building name plaque, no visible patients– only a sign board and the security guard coming in and out of the building.
The seclusion was the main factor Clarke looked for when choosing a hiding spot. 'A secluded building in plain sight' just as his father told him. To outsiders, it was a massive building with no idea of what was actually happening inside. To those inside, the constant, low frequency hum of the building and the feeling of being watched every fifteen minutes felt like torture.
This was just perfect to Clarke. Very perfect.
The hospital had seven staffs overall. A doctor, a therapist, two nurses, two mental health technicians and a security guard. Clarke only knew the two nurses and the security guard. The doctor was out of town that weekend and the therapist only came on fixed dates. The mental health technicians only came to check up on him while he was asleep so he wasn't familiar with them either.
After Kai investigated his identity, the nurses had to admit him as a patient. He was put in the hospital uniform and assigned a bed. He took a walk to get familiar with his surroundings and plan his life. Within a day he knew the important parts of the building.
A new week began and the doctor resumed his duties. Kate and Clara met with him to discuss Clarke's admission to the hospital, recounting the entire incident without leaving any details. The doctor, Alan, was as shocked as the nurses were when he heard that his identity was classified. He then requested that Clarke be brought into his office so he could speak with him and observe his behavior firsthand.
Clara led Clarke into the office. He stared coldly at the unfamiliar face before him as if he could figure out everything about him just by watching him.
"Alan, he's here," Clara announced as she entered with him.
Alan looked up from the document he was reading and said;
"Thanks Clara. I'll take it from here."
"I'll leave you to it then," Clara said as she left the room.
Alan looked down at Clarke with a professional gaze. He signaled for the boy to sit down and took a seat beside him. He smiled at him and began his round of questions.
"Your name is Lomi?"
No response.
"The nurses mentioned you don't remember anything?"
Still no response. It was as if he was talking to a wall. Clarke didn't respond, his face was expressionless and his eyes looked through him, focused on something invisible. Alan felt chills run down his spine. He took his notepad to jot down a few observations, but just as he was about to write on the paper, Clarke spoke, his head slightly tilted to the side.
"What did you say?" Alan asked professionally.
"There's someone I want to kill."
"And who is it that you want to kill?"
"I can't remember," Clarke stated, a slight smile playing on his lips. "I just feel like there's someone out there that I really wanted to kill before I got here.'
"Does the thought of killing that person make you happy?" Alan continued asking with a calm expression. He had seen a lot of patients like this, except this was his first time with a patient this young.
"Yes," Clarke answered cutely with a hint of craziness in his voice, his eyes gleaming with an unfound excitement.
Alan paused, not because he was scared of him, but because he had to choose his next questions carefully to understand his thoughts. He wasn't a therapist, he just wanted to know out of curiosity. A therapist would be more helpful, but he just wanted to have an idea of what happened to him.
"Have you ever killed anything?" Alan pressed.
"I can't remember anything," Clarke snapped, visibly annoyed.
"Right, you did say that… well, do you think you have parents?'
"If I knew that, I wouldn't be here. would I?"
"Fairs. I just assumed you might… you know have some sense of having parents since you felt like you had someone to kill. Right?" Alan asked casually, like he was talking to someone his age.
Silence enveloped the office as both of them engaged in some sort of staring contest. The quiet was finally broken by a soft laughter that came from Clarke.
"I only remember the urge to kill, not family bonds–sir," he said mockingly with a smug look in his face.
Alan offered a thin smile at him, his eyes observing him subtly for any crack in his performance.
"Alright, that's enough questions for today. I'm sure you're tired of my boring questions."
"Oh!" Clarke exclaimed disappointingly. "I thought you would ask more," his voice filled with fake concern .
"Oh I will," Alan countered. "But what's the rush? I'm sure you'll want to talk about this everyday."
Clarke grinned widely. "Oh thank God. I was starting to get bored in this place."
"Well with me here, you will never be bored. I'm willing to listen to you anytime. A therapist will also come by, you can talk to her as much as you want."
"Thank you Doctor…'"Clarke said trying to get his name.
"Alan. Doctor Alan is the name."
"Thank you Doctor Alan. I'll see you tomorrow then."
"You're welcome, Lomi. The nurses will get you your medicine and I'll see you tomorrow," Alan said as Clarke stood up from his seat and proceeded to open the door.
He opened the door and left the office. Alone, Alan took his notepad to jot down his observations. This is unlike any case he had witnessed. It felt like the boy was trying to be someone he wasn't. Yet, at the same time that was the very honest version of him. He knew something was off but he couldn't quite understand what it was.
•••••
As Clarke shut the door behind him, a technician was already waiting to escort him. The technician, unlike the nurses didn't talk. They didn't ask questions either. They simply hovered their hands his shoulders without directly touching him.
Clarke's small footsteps echoed against the walls of the long, white hallway of the hospital. To any onlooker, he looked lost and pitiful, but there was an unsettling calm in him. The one that keeps calm until it gets its prey. His didn't look at the nurses passing by neither did he look a the beautiful scenery outside the window. He eyes looked straight forward the same way he looked forward when he ran without looking back.
The technician had him stay in a common room to get familiar with other people. When he reached the common room, the other patients seemed to instinctively make space for him. He sat on one of the chairs, his little frame disappearing into the furniture. He didn't do anything, he just sat there and slowly broke into a smile.
The Day Before
Clarke knew that for him to stay here permanently for the next ten years, a simple faked amnesia wouldn't hold up against the hospital's scrutiny. He needed something more convincing, one that they couldn't cure in little time. He specifically sat outside his ward, his eyes observing the various behaviors of the other patients until he found the one best suited for him, Jack.
Jack had spiraled into a psychotic episode right in front of Clarke. He talked to himself in a bizarre manner. Clarke clearly heard him say;
"I need to kill someone. Yes. I have to get out of here." He kept ranting, repeating the statement like a broken record.
Clarke noted his body movements, every time he said kill, he eyes would glimmer with excitement. He tilted his head while talking to the wall, his expression was like a mad dog that could cut loose anytime.
The situation ended quickly when the technicians pinned him down and gave him shots of whatever were in those syringes. The man was stabilized and moved to an unknown location. Clarke walked hurriedly back into his ward, his brain cataloguing every detail of the episode exactly as he witnessed.
He practiced the behavior several times until he felt it was refined enough, but he had to test it before he concluded. He looked around for an easy target, one that he knew would show the emotions he wanted perfectly. The woman opposite his bed was a dementia patient. She was young but forgot everything- emotions, her name, her life, due to an accident. He knew if he acted it well and she reacted even in the slightest manner he was good to go.
He sat up on his bed and stared at the woman intensely, his eyes emotionless. The woman didn't give him attention at first, she just kept looking outside the window. She felt as if she was being watched by someone so she shifted her gaze to the room checking each patient until her eyes met Clarke's. She kept looking at him blankly, and he kept staring back. When Clarke noticed that the method wasn't effective, he tilted his head just like Jack did and walked up to her.
"Do you know the feeling of pain?" Clarke asked her gently.
"What?" The woman asked back confusingly.
"I heard that you don't remember anything at all, you even had to learn how to talk when you got here."
"Yes. Why?" She retorted.
"Do you feel pain?" Can you differentiate your feelings?"
The woman just stared at him, blinking at him, she couldn't understand anything he was saying.
"Since you can't remember, why don't I help you? Clarke said smiling manically.
"And how will you do that?"
"I can stab you with a syringe so you can know the feeling"
"Do you think that'll be enough?" She asked nonchalantly. I take injections everyday and I still don't feel this pain you're talking about."
"I won't do it like the nurses do," Clarke said innocently. "I'll stab you with it."
"Are you crazy!" The woman eyes widened. "I may not know pain but that is a crazy thing to do boy!"
"It's crazy? I just wanted to help you."
"Leave you… what's the word?
"Psycho!" Another patient interrupted.
"Yes. Leave you psycho!"
"Alright alright. Remember I just wanted to help you," Clarke said and shrugged his shoulders.
As he turned to leave, a cold smile appeared on his lips. It worked, his acting worked. He knew that rumors would soon fly around about him being a psycho. Therefore, people would begin to avoid him and that was exactly what he wanted. He killed two birds with one stone.
Rumors flew around the hospital about Clarke. The patients were bewildered not because he was a psycho; they had seen a lot of psychotic patients, but because he was a child. They couldn't understand how such a young boy could harbor such thoughts. They found him terrifying and started to avoid him.
Present Day.
Clarke stayed in the common room for a while, it was getting dark outside so he went to his ward to sleep and plan for the next day. As he sat on the bed thinking, he suddenly felt someone's presence in the room. He broke into cold sweat, his whole body shivering with the thought that they had found him. He didn't dare to turn around, he clutched the bed tightly as his heart thumped against his chest. He closed his eyes silently hoping that it wouldn't be them.
Footsteps bounced loudly on the tiled floor, each steps matching with Clarke's heartbeat. While expecting the unforeseen, a hand held his shoulders, sending shivers down his spine.
'They've caught me' he whispered in acceptance.
•••••
"Hey Lomi," It was Kate, the elderly nurse. She had been in the room for a few minutes. She heard about Clarke's behavior from the patients and Alan so she decided to check up on him. When she entered, she stared at his little figure on the bed for a few minutes, his back turned to her. What exactly happened to you Lomi, she thought to herself before walking towards him.
Clarke flinched when her hands touched his shoulders. She called out his name and he turned to look at her; but instead of a sigh of relief, he began to cry, tears of fright streaming down his face.
"Lomi? Kate was shocked to see him crying. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" Clarke continued sobbing, the tears were never ending. Kate pulled him into her arms and hugged him, consoling him. He had never looked like this since he got here. What happened? she asked herself cuddling him in her arms.
He just kept crying in Kate's arms, he never thought he would cry again; not for his parents but in fear of those people. He thought he was ready, he thought his rage and fury was enough to silence his emotions, but he was wrong. There and then, he realized that fear lingered deep inside him, he was scared of those men but more importantly he was terrified of the devil that ordered the kill on his parents.
He had to face it, he had to face his fears.