Chapter 47

Mother of Grace Psychiatric Center

The sun shimmered through the windows and inside the large, white recreation room of the third floor
of the institution. Black men and women, young and old, either sat at various tables or aimlessly walked
around in their white undershirts and white pajama pants. Most of the patients wore subdued glazes on
their hopeless faces, while others spoke to themselves with their wide eyes glaring all around as
though they were expecting the voices in their individual heads to speak back to them. Calm music was
playing on the speakers above in the ceiling. The tune was settling enough not to upset even the most
fragile soul.

In a far corner was one young lady who had her weary head lying down on a small, metal table that sat
perfectly next to one of the caged windows. Her unspoiled undershirt and pants made her appear
almost angelic with the sunlight beaming down upon her. While her scarred and swollen hands and
face gave off the impression that her life, or what was left of it, had all but been discarded ages ago.

The woman rested her red scarf covered head on her left arm while listening to the other sounds carry
on throughout the area. Her eyes were closed slightly to where she could only see a few rays of
sunlight here and there. She was so relaxed that doing something as simple as lifting her head seemed
laborious. The woman had no desire whatsoever to react to her surroundings. Her pale face and
chapped lips made her look as if she had just awakened from a ten year coma.

"Okay, Lynnette, why don't we start all over again." A Jamaican speaking man said as he sat down at
the opposite end of her table.

Lynnette remained in her usual position for at least a full minute before she finally looked up to see the
middle-aged, balding and bearded doctor with glasses seated across from her. She wiped her face of
any excess drool right before sluggishly resting her head on her right hand and twisting her lips in a
half-hearted fashion.



"Now, yesterday when we met, we spoke more of dis Mr. Bushard. A man no one has even heard of.
Today, I want to speak of de one person you seem to have de most difficulty discussing. Isaac." He
patiently stated.

Lynnette's face never once seemed to budge, nor did it even become distressed. She just sat and idly
stared at the man as though he were just another person in white.

The doctor, dressed in an all-white lab jacket, straightened his eyeglasses and handed Lynnette a
sincere glare before saying, "Young lady, we really need to talk."

"But I've told you about Isaac before, Doctor Cornelius." Her tongue dragged.

"Yes, but I personally believe dat dere is someting else more pressing about dis man dan what you
have been telling me."

"I told you what he was."

Shaking his head in doubt and smirking, Cornelius replied, "My dear girl, your delusions of superstitions
and fantasies are all but mere walls dat you have used to cover up de real issue at hand."

Lynnette sat back in her chair, and with a lackadaisical pout on her face she sighed, "I know exactly
what you're doing right now."

"Is dat right?"

"Yep, you're trying to screw with my head. No matter what I tell you you're not gonna believe me." She
shrugged her shoulders. "I've been here all this time and I still can't convince you."

"You must understand dat the matters dat you are trying to convince me of are of a fantastic nature."



Lynnette then began to giggle to herself. "Did I mention that Isaac had to spend time in one of these
places, too?"

"No, as a matter of fact you did not."

"Yep, the whole time I thought he was out of his mind. Come to find out...he really wasn't." She coldly
lamented.

"Lynnette, your fiancée may be de link we need to uncover de real mystery concerning your state of
mind."

"My state of mind," she questioned with a belligerent sneer. "Negro, my state of mind is nowhere in this
galaxy. Ever since I've been here I've told you all that went down with me. From my bathroom, to the
Towers, to this shitty country. Do you know what it's like to see a person change from a man into...that?
That's not exactly something a person tends to forget."

"Is dat why you requested a lobotomy?"

"Yes!" Lynnette desperately pressed her body against the table.

Taking off his glasses and gently placing them on the table, Cornelius sat and remarked, "Lynnette, you
have a son, a mother, father and sisters back home. These marvelous stories of demons, you being
beaten up by some Englishman, seeing dead people walk around in a forest, it's all only a barrier to a
much deeper root dat you must deal with. Do you realize dat we once had a person in here who
claimed she was Joan of Arc? She even attempted to set herself on fire just to prove such a fallacy.
How far are you willing to take your aberrations? To de point where you may never even see your
family again?"

Lynnette sank her body down inside her chair. She turned her eyes away from the Doctor momentarily
to look at a couple of ladies who were whispering to each other in a corner before she focused her



attention back to Cornelius again.

"You have no idea what I've been through, sir." Lynnette's tone plunged.

Sighing, Cornelius began to say, "Lynnette, we've been over—

"No, just hold on." She forcefully spoke in a more deep tone. "I remember our last night together, me
and Isaac. That man felt so damn good, even with those ugly eyes of his. I remember feeling all over
his warm body. Him being pressed up against mine. I hate 'em, but I love him at the same time. Yes,
I'm a slut. I also used drugs and lied to my parents. I never imagined in my wildest nightmare that this
would be my life. I hardly even remember what my own child looks like after all this time. I don't even
know what the date is. Is it Thanksgiving? Christmas?" She shrugged. "But after all that I've went
through, I'm not going to sit here and allow you to make me believe that I've lost my mind. I may be
crazy, but I'm not that fucking crazy. I just wanna sit here...and melt away. Haven't you ever just wanted
to vanish out of sight? Leave this world and never return? Away from evil? Away from the scary things?
From this day forward, I'll be praying to God to take me away. To just let me vanish into thin air."

Doctor Cornelius sat and stared misty-eyed at Lynnette for a few moments before he put his glasses
back on and stood up and turned around to face the crowd of six men and women, all of whom were
adorned in white lab jackets. The studious glares on each individual black face told the stories of
reflection and pity upon the subject they had been observing for the past few minutes or so.

Cornelius took a pen and pad from out of his jacket's pocket and started writing something on a page
before he slipped it right back inside.

"What we have here before us is an American woman, possibly between the ages of twenty and
twenty-two, who just happens to be suffering from PTSD." Cornelius stated. "When she came to
Jamaica and why she arrived here to begin with is still a mystery. When de patient was found she was
badly beaten to the point where she could hardly even recall her own name. As of late, Lynnette has



revealed a liaison with a man which ended up producing a child. A child dat was not de child of her late
fiancée. As a result of her guilt, Lynnette has chosen to indulge in hysterical delusions of shape-shifters
terrorizing her and her hometown. Delusions dat she believes even led her to dis very island, away
from her family. Given her eccentricities, which by de way I attribute to an indulgence in cinema, I
believe it prudent dat Lynnette remain here for an indefinite time in order to evaluate her further."

"Doctor, you mentioned shape-shifting. What sort of shape-shifting would you be referring to exactly?"
One of the female doctors inquired.

Snickering, Doctor Cornelius replied, "I assure you, my friend, Hollywood has a very powerful influence
on her society. Just think of Lon Chaney Jr. and you shall be enlightened."

At once each and every doctor began giggling amongst themselves. Lynnette, on the other hand, sat
and watched as they all carried on, talking back and forth about her as if she weren't there at all before
they eventually went on their way in a tight huddle from her area.

She sat totally still in her seat and watched others around her just wander about as though they were
lost. In her mind she could see herself lumbering along with them, completely adrift in her thoughts.
Soon her right hand began trembling on the table. Lynnette tried to stop it, but no matter what it would
not cease from shaking. She then got up from the table and dragged her body over to the window
where she looked out past the thin, black bars and at the mist-burdened forest beyond. In her eyes the
scenery went on seemingly forever.

At times, while gazing out the windows of the facility Lynnette would often wonder what resided within
the forest. What was actually awaiting its chance to lurk out and come after her? The days went on
endlessly. The nights were just as excruciating. Every time she dared look into the sky and see an
airplane pass she would always reminisce on Isaiah and just what on earth he was doing. But all of that
was mere fairy tale.



"There's no such thing as a werewolf." She muttered so sadly at the foggy window. "Please tell me
again, God. Please...tell me again."


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