Free Adapt by Edward Freeland Page B

a drink on the eve, to this. The man whom his family loved. An uncle, a role which he cherished. A professional driver. Now a few weeks into the New Year he was being admitted into a mental health unit.
    He hugged his mother and father. Daniel felt guilty to see them so upset, he could sense their devastation. He squeezed his mum. They said their goodbyes and he took his seat awaiting Dr Cribson’s direction. The doctor sat opposite him.
    “I will ask a few questions, then I will get you settled onto the ward,” the doctor said. “Are you still hallucinating?”
    “I have never hallucinated,” replied Daniel.
    “You have been suffering with rather vivid hallucinations.”
    “No, I haven’t.”
    “You said the TV tells you to do things.”
    “I never said that,” replied Daniel. “I said, after explaining that I was hacked, that I began to experience things from around the town. I then noticed a similar thing on a particular programme.”
    Dr Cribson stared at Daniel, stroking his goatee beard. He smiled, it was the creepiest smile Daniel had ever seen. “That’s the first indication, the warning. It’s good that you came to us before the TV did give you orders.”
    “I wouldn’t listen to them even if it did,” he sarcastically replied. Daniel had all his faculties and could sense the doctor manipulating his answers. He tried to see what Dr Cribson was writing.
    “It is text book perceived phenomena,” said Dr Cribson. “You see strangers telling you things, reading your mind. That’s right.”
    “No. That’s wrong. You have misunderstood everything.”
    “It is you who lacks understanding,” he said whilst writingnotes. Daniel’s confusion was re-focusing as anger. “Do you think I can read your mind?”
    “No, I don’t think anyone can, and I have never said anything like it.”
    Daniel was becoming increasingly concerned by what was being documented on the page. The doctor continued stroking his beard along with his note taking.
    “Denial of symptoms. We will get there. You need to recognise your illness. You are sick. Do you think we are being watched?”
    “No.”
    “We will work on your symptoms. I’m going to end this for you. The nurse will take a sample of your blood, then we will walk over and show you around.”
    Daniel had his blood taken then he followed Dr Cribson across to the ward. He looked up at the two storey brick built secure unit. Looking over to the far end of the unit he could see two builders on scaffolding nursing the ill looking depressed brickwork.
This is not a little therapy room of relaxation, a few plants and a cute nurse on hand, this is a prison. I’ve volunteered to go to a prison.
The doctor used a card key to enter. Dread drenched Daniel’s demeanour as he walked into the unit. The wrong side of the wall. No daylight could bless the inside of the ward. White walls, white ceiling, white floor. Many of the bulbs were gone, never replaced, giving no formality to shadow. Shadows of objects, nurses and patients were cast off in different directions.
If you’re not insane on arrival, you will be by the time you leave.
    Daniel saw an old man playing chess against himself. A grey beard down to his waist. He would move a chess piece, laugh to himself and then move the opposite colour. His teeth were missing as was his index finger on his playing hand.
    “I will show you the garden area and then your bed. I hope you can rest in peace while you are under us,” said Dr Cribson.
    “I can leave at any point, right?” he asked.
    “We will see,” he replied. “I will leave you to it.”
    Daniel walked to the communal area and took a seat in the once soft chair, foam escaping from the many holes in the material. The chairs were the only contrast to the white walls, they were orange with a layer of ground in dirt on the surface. Thetwo women that sat adjacent to him stared at him like he didn’t belong.
You’re right, I don’t belong here.
A man paced back and