Saint Dympna's Asylum

Jude watched Gloria struggle. He stared transfixed as she attempted to escape the confines of the straightjacket and claw at herself. Jude’s hands clutched at the heavy white door separating the two of them, he wanted to get back to his duties but was afraid that if he looked away the soft padded room would turn to quicksand and swallow her. Finally one of the fellow nurses greeted Jude and his body jolted to attention, he tried to smile but couldn’t raise his eyes. This nurse, Victoria, had her nose broken last week while sedating a new patient. Jude didn’t sympathize, he’d be angry too if someone kept sticking needles into him. Forcing him to be quiet and still when all he wanted was to shout and run. By the time he raised his head Victoria was gone and Jude stood alone, a mop clutched to his side. He steadily made soapy swirls on the black and white checkered floor counting the steps it took to reach the end of the hall from Gloria’s door.
The other patients were usually quieter than Gloria. The medication they were given made their eyelids droop and their screams taper to whimpers but she always raged. Jude knew it was because she was braver than the rest. She wanted freedom the most. Jude remembered timeouts in a small dark coat-closet. The light cord would swing above him in slow concentric circles but he would be too paralyzed to reach for it and only stared into the inky blackness, counting the seconds. Jude knew Gloria would reach for it.
Jude wrung out the mop, carefully placing it into his cleaning cart and counted the highlights on the glossy floor as he walked to the elevator. The second floor was a never-ending sequence of doors and tiles. On good days he’d imagine all the harsh fluorescents would dim into a rainbow of colors and the patients would gracefully waltz out of their cells bedecked in glorious white gowns and suits. They would dance in undulating patterns down the stretch of the corridor while the hospital workers would smile and applaud, happily ushering them into the sunlight. Jude knew that was just a fantasy. He knew it would be wrong to let them go.
When Jude started working at the hospital it was called St. Dympna’s Refuge For the Criminally Insane, a decade later it shortened to a gentle St. Dympna’s Institute but nothing else changed. Visitor’s were still an almost non-occurrence and the faces of the staff were always hard with contempt or taut with stress. The bright lights just deepened the gullies of their mouths and eyes. Jude often pondered on how lonely the patients must be with no one kind to speak to and no where to run to. That was why he started memorizing the shifts of the attendants, noting who had keys and where they went, charting the best ways to get as many out as possible, especially Gloria. Jude knew people would get hurt but he kept imagining being trapped in a tiny room with no windows and no chance of rescue and his resolve would strengthen.