Welcome to Jenny Stark Asylum. Whoops, mind your head. So this is the entrance. Usually Jane is at the desk, but I don’t know where she went. Way to act professional when we’re having visitors, Jesus. Some people… They never learned respect, you know ?

Nevermind, this way please. Stop looking so damn scared, no one's going to eat you.

 

This is our long term care ward for mildly disturbed patients. Mainly just folks whose loose screws broke one day, and can’t function properly amongst normal people. Just waiting between comfortable padded walls the sweet release, whether it’s death or a magical cure. ‘Cause, between you and me, I’m pretty sure the pills they give them is only sugar under a really bitter coating. 

But let’s get on with the visit. Right at the end of the hallway is the seclusion room. It’s occupied most of the time. Sometimes it’s because they’ve been dangerous to themselves, or to others, but mainly it’s to shut them up a little. Crazy people can be a burden but the screams are really the worst.

 

This is Tim's room. Little Timmy. He… sees stuff. He really should be in the schizophrenia ward, but since his disorders imply inanimate objects that he has to "sort", they don't know what to do with him.

 

This is Amy. She's a goner. Got herself on the operation table countless times already. She's obsessed with symmetry, tried to re-arrange her organs several times. Since she's only got one heart, one stomach and such, she thinks she can put them all to one side, even things out by creating chaos. Don't look at me like that, she thought about it.

 

That’s Mark. Classic paranoia case. Couldn’t even recognize his own sister, he tried to pop her eye out with a potato peeler, thinking she was a “special agent” trying to steal his TV. It wasn’t pretty. He’s never been the same since, and I bet she hasn’t either, what’s with all the… face rearrangement. 

 

And this is my room. I’m obsessed with tomatoes. I love to just… slash them up, see the crimson drops fall from my fingers and paint the walls red, you know ? But it was too messy, they wouldn’t give me tomatoes after a while. So I imagine them. I draw on the walls, paint messages. I particularly like the one I wrote above the door, there. Jane, the desk clerk, she was a great help. I think the message might even be real. Can you see it ? Can you ? See ? I wrote it to warn those foolish enough to pass the threshold, to tell ‘em that
“Yes, we’re all mad here.

Even you”.