Jack In The Box

The next morning when I woke up, I had a severe headache. Even though I’d managed to throw up all the medicines that I’d consumed last night, I realized some remnants of it must have remained inside my body. I glanced out of my bedroom window and noticed it was still drizzling. The clock read nine a.m so I had about an hour before my shift started. I was working a twelve hours shift today because Aaron had literally pleaded me the other day since they were short staffed. Majority of the nurses preferred to steer clear off Jackson and I couldn’t even blame them.

Due to my unusual shift timings, I was never home and so Ken and I rarely got any time to spend with each other as a family. Scribbled notes, texts and phone calls were the only communication that went on for a few days now and I blamed it on my transfer to the Mental Health Wing.

I pulled myself out of the bed reluctantly, making a beeline for the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, I was dressed in my Nurse uniform, seated at the little dining table, gobbling down bread and Nutella (my go-to breakfast when I was feeling too lazy to cook). I filled the thermos with steaming coffee, picked my car keys and made my way downstairs.

“Good Morning, Mrs. Rossi.” I greeted Mrs. Rossi, the Italian lady living downstairs.

She glanced at her left wrist; I wanted to remind her there was no wrist-watch on it. “It’s lunch time.”

“Good Afternoon, then.” I said.

I usually ignored her smart comments. She was usually grumpily but invited me over for tea during her good days, also baked some delicious Banana bread. The woman had over a dozen cats in her house who lazed around on every possible flat surface. The cats were super fat and cute but hated my guts for some reason.

When I approached the parking, I remembered I’d left my car in the hospital parking lot. Next thing, I was standing by the road with an open umbrella, trying to hail a cab.

I didn’t feel like visiting Jackson’s room that day. I knew it was my job, but he was also unlike other patients that I’d dealt with. Jackson was a high functioning psychopath; he was also manipulative and intelligent. He seemed like a normal person one minute, and you never know when the wheels in his head were turning and he was plotting something life threatening against you. That part of him scared me. It was a given that I couldn’t even read his mind.

The entire day I avoided going to his room and instead decided to tend to other patients. I’d told another nurse to serve Jackson’s breakfast and lunch, warning her about his manipulative and flirtatious tactics. I’d loaned her ear-plugs.

about how she was going to break up with her boyfriend because he wasn’t giving her enough time. I continued to nod my head throughout the conversation, pushing around the salad

attention to

“What?”

You don’t seem quite

the past, but somehow I feel like it’s

surprised you even said yes to Aaron’s offer after all the rumors

“What kind of rumors?”

blazing gossip eyes on, “People say that he wasn’t always crazy, it was like a switch went off and he killed his own mother. Can you imagine? And then he went on a killing rampage and murdered people in the most brutal way possible.

gory details.” I

you didn’t even listen to the best

seen worse things working in the hospital as a nurse and yet what Maddy

if I do that then it may change my behavior towards them. A mental patient is a mental patient; nothing more than that and that’s exactly how I see Jackson. Isn’t that what they

and you’ll be surprised what you find. There are even stories about him on Creepypasta and fan-fiction. This guy is a motherfu*...” she started saying when I coughed

said shoveling down the remaining salad into my

rolled her eyes. “They are just too interesting, I guess. Not saying that I really like all the horrible things they’ve done to other people but I like to do research.” She gave me

You’re not the only one

****

could get a day off from the asylum if he was to showcase good behavior, and before Aaron could answer that question, I knew what Aaron would say and surely he said a big fat ‘NO’. He asked me how I could even propose the idea of Jackson being out in the open for twenty-four hours. I totally