Hannah Griff watched her patient as he was wheeled into the ward. “Bringing you another disturbing creation from the mind of one sick animal who can’t tell the difference and gets stupified,” announced the attendant.

Her heels click- clacking on the sterile tiles while she followed them. Snapping the order, “Take Mr. Smith to room five two nine.” The attendants exchange smirks and shrugs. Depositing Mr. Smith in a bright padded room, they left Hannah with him.

He pulled against the restraints. Dr. Griff absently set about checking the buckles. She turned with a practiced smile. His eyes met hers for the first time. One was blue, the other brown.

She felt mesmerized, so unprofessional. He let his head tilt to the left, never breaking the gaze, “Why do you like playing around with my narrow scope of reality?”

Though Hannah tried, she couldn’t break his stare, “I, can feel it all start slipping away.” Mr. Smith smiled. “Don’t you think it can take control. When I don’t let it, I get stupified.”