in the question mark room

It was right next to the library, but I had never noticed it before. No sign on the door. Nobody seemed to go in or out of it.

I asked the doc what it was and he said it was a "storage closet." Finally, I convinced one of the janitors to unlock the door and let me in.

It was...a storage closet. Brooms and mops and buckets lay scattered around the place. Well, okay, it was fairly big for a storage closet, but I couldn't see anything that wouldn't be in a normal storage closet. Just, you know, supplies and stuff.

And there was Finnegans Wake. And next to Finnegans Wake, there was a spiral notebook with a clear blue cover.

Have you ever seen those movies where the detectives come across a suspect's room and it's covered in weird scrawlings and random snippets from newspapers and stuff? The Room o' Crazy? Yeah, that was like that only in notebook format.

"A Game of Grace"? Why does that not sound good? Fuck.

not there

It wasn't there. Finnegans Wake. The library didn't have a copy.

I mean, they did. They had one. There was a record of it - a card in the card catalog. But it wasn't there. Someone checked it out. Someone took it.

What do I do now?

infinite jest

I managed to convince them to let me into the library late. Just a quick trip for a book to read. Nothing unusual.

I found it on the stack of new books waiting to be shelved. Had they just bought it? How had Lady known it would be here? Questions only lead to more questions.

I quickly opened it up and found it.

Apparently, I'm "special." Whatever that means.

And that doesn't look like an anagram. Great.

I don't feel like sleeping, not after the day I've had. Maybe I'll hit myself in the head with this book until I knock myself unconscious. It's certainly big enough.

meeting lady

I woke up in my room today and I saw him. At least, I think it was a him. He was dressed in frilly pink shirt with a dark brown coat over it. White makeup was applied liberally to his face. When he saw that I was awake, he gave me a huge grin.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey," he said. "So nice to meet you face to face."

Once I realized that this wasn't a dream, I quickly grabbed the covers of the bed and backed away.

"Now, now," Lady said, "I'm not here to hurt you. But you haven't found the next clue. I'm so disappointed."

I didn't say anything, but Lady was obviously expecting a response. I managed to softly say, "I don't know what you want me to look for. I found 'Hamlet.' It wasn't there."

"Ah," Lady lifted a finger and pointed it at the ceiling, "there's your mistake. The first clue was a quote from 'Julius Caesar' but the clue wasn't found there, was it? Try looking someplace else." Lady looked around the room, with its drab white walls, as if contemplating redecorating it. Then he smiled again. "I knew a patient here once. He was a tennis player. A champion tennis player actually. But then one day, whenever he opened his mouth, he would start to scream. Just pure, animalistic screams. But in his head, why, he was speaking as eloquently as ever. He would speak and he couldn't understand why nobody understood him."

Lady jumped up then and I backed away as far as I could on the bed. "Well, I hope you have more luck now."

There was a line on the wall I hadn't noticed before. It moved like it was a string. It twisted and turned and split into many strings and suddenly the wall had a hole in it. A corridor. And beyond the corridor...beyond the wall...there was a tower. A wooden tower. And I could see...things...terrible things...

I shut my eyes and tried not to look.

"Bye bye, deary!" Lady said.

I didn't open my eyes for a while.

the fault in our stars

Okay, I decided to play the game. I mean, I could try to ignore it, try to block out everything, but I don't think that would do any good. So here goes.

"A Jail Cures Us 1-2-140" was "Julius Caesar Act I, scene ii, line 140." Which was "The fault, dear Brutus, lies not in our stars." Which led me to the book I had just finished, The Fault in Our Stars by John Green.

I had just returned it to the library, so I had to wait until one of the nurses opened the library again and then I found it:

I don't know how they did it (though I guess I shouldn't be surprised by now), but there was a bookmark slipped into the book:

"A Clearheaded Figment, Perform Thy Knot"? Well, that won't be easy.

Any clue on what the password would be? Just looks like pictograms to me.

Sigh. I need to get to my session with the Doc now. And I'm tired, too. Hope I don't fall asleep like last time.

notes

I must have fallen asleep during my session with the Doc today, because I don't really remember leaving his office. I guess I was just so tired because of what happened to Vayne and the Jester. I don't want to remember the Jester. I don't really remember what the Doc told me - something about "embracing bad memories"? - but he was nice enough to bring me back to my room, where I woke up.

And then I found two sheets of paper waiting for me on the floor:

A "scavenger hunt"? What if I don't do it, huh?

...what if I do? What have I got to lose?

better

I think I'm a bit better now. They gave me something yesterday to help me sleep and I spent most of the day knocked out, in a dreamless sleep. I like it when I don't dream.

I didn't, however, sleep in my room. I made sure they put me in a different room.

His name was Vayne. I remember that now. He was a nurse here. And the Jester killed him.

Which means the Jester is real. That part, at least, was real. Why? Why did he have to be real? Why couldn't it have all been a dream?

wake up

wake up, grace. wake up. please wake up. this isn't happening. no, this isn't happening.

i woke up and there he was. there he was when i woke up. he was sitting on the chair at the foot of my bed.

i thought i was still dreaming. i have to be still dreaming. right?

i think he was a nurse. i think i think i remember him. but i cant. i cant look. i cant look at his face. what used to be his face.

im sitting here trying not to vomit again hoping this is a dream. this has to be a dream.

because he had a note pinned to his shirt. big block letters:

HELLO GRACE

HAPPY SANITY!

 - THE JESTER

wake up, grace. wake up.

Re: gossip

So, I talked again with Jill today. She admitted that Paul creeped her out, too; but then a lot of the other patients are either creepy or sad. I guess I'm in the latter category, what with my crying sprees and all.

Anyway, she also told me that she heard one of the orderlies had a blog and was posting about Shady Lawn. She gave me the address - here - but for some reason I can't see it. I guess the computer I'm using has some restrictions or something.

Re: crying

So they let me listen to the radio and...well, this song came on and I just started crying. I thought I was getting better, but I just...couldn't stop crying.

Anyway, this was the song. I think I'm going to have to avoid listening to the radio until the doc tells me I'm ready.

Re: therapy

We have group therapy today. The doc says I should interact more with the others, so I said hi to a few of the others, like Jessica and Jill. Some of them kind of creep me out, though. Like Paul. I heard rumors that he was behind the fire that happened a few months back - I don't know how he keeps getting his hands on matches, though.

Anyway, group therapy was fine. No big revelations, no screaming or excessive crying. When it was my turn to talk, I talked about the incident and hallucinating having a brother - since I had always wanted a brother - and, well, all that happened before the Episode.

I think I did good today. I think I'm getting better.

Re: the incident

So you may have noticed a certain, well, incident that I managed to chronicle on my twitter. That's what I'm calling it. The incident. Because "the Episode" is already taken. Man, I need to think up new nouns.

Anyway, here's what happened: apparently, there was a mix-up somewhere and some of the meds I received weren't mine. The combination of meds had the adverse affect of making me have crazy hallucinations.

The good news is that it's passed and I didn't do any major harm to myself or others (well, Doc says I hit some orderlies, but nothing too serious). The bad news is that Doc says it may have reversed some of the progress I was making - apparently, I began to talk about Derek while under the influence of the bad meds and he thinks that's a sign that I still believe.

It's not true. I mean, I understand why, but I was having crazy, crazy hallucinations. Of course I would hallucinate Derek. But the truth, which I know, is that I do not and have never had a brother.

Anyway, here's hoping tomorrow is a better day.

Re: background

So you're probably wondering about the background to this blog. I know I would be. Looks weird, right? Well, one day, I was looking on the internet for photos of abandoned hospitals and- what, why was I looking on the internet for photos of abandoned hospitals, you ask? Well, ever since the Episode, I've...kind of felt attached to empty and abandoned places. I see the beauty in them now. The doc says it's because I consider myself "emotionally abandoned" and "detached from the world" and he's probably right, but I still like looking at them nonetheless.

So I found some pictures:

Then I came across this photo:

And I thought: "Wow, that's great. That's how I felt." I felt like I was living in the walls inside my mind. Like there was an invisible barrier and I could only see my life, I couldn't do anything.

But the doc helped me with that and he's helping me still. He's helping me tear down the wall so I can live my life again.

One brick at a time.

Re: sanity

I've been reading through my old blog and realizing just how screwed up I was back then. All that talk about Derek and Kevin and then the "Episode," as my doctor calls it. I'm much better now. No insane hallucinations or other personalities. Just me.

Anyway, Doc says keeping another journal will be good for me, help me with some of my issues (of which I have many - I have, in fact, a whole subscription), so here I am. Back to basics.

This is Grace Smith signing in from Shady Lawn. This is me.