Grace
Four days pass by, and it seems war is imminent. That’s all anyone can talk about. When the nurses and the orderlies and most of the patients aren’t parked in front of the TV, we have drills. Duck and cover, they call it, and everyone thinks it’s a game. Everyone but me.
It sort of freaks a lot of the patients out, all this talk of war. One thing about patients in an asylum is it doesn’t take much to tip their paranoia over the edge. Any sort of deviation from the norm only adds fuel to the fire.
So most of them get put on tranquilizers until eventually the supply of tranquilizers ran out. That’s when the orderlies started to carry the straitjackets around.
It’s a very strange time.
While they’re all running around like chickens with their heads cut off, I keep to myself. This i
