It's late, about 3 am, and the halls in Ravenwood Asylum are deathly quiet, save for the sparse chatter of some of the inmates.

Dr. Gideon Corand is walking quietly but quickly through the halls toward his office, he had to redistribute some of the cases seeing as he had just lost a large portion of his staff, mainly due to the sometimes haunting nature of the very asylum itself. See, despite taking over as head psychologist and proverbial warden of the building, he had decided against changing the original stone makeup of it. He had, though, put in new tile walkways and large plexiglass walls for the cells, in attempts to make it seem more open to the people inside. Long halogen light bulbs are hanging from the ceiling, but the original torch holders adorn the walls, and yes, they have been used before.

Gideon arrives in his office and stares at the stack of case transfers he now has to redistribute.

Alaric had only been at Ravenwood for a few hours and already she was creeped out by it. "Oh well," she thought to herself, "it's better than home. I can deal, hopefully." She was sitting on the thin mattress provided by the asylum and just staring out the barred window. She had no idea what tomorrow had in-store for her. Would the doctor even have time to see her?

When she was being admitted she saw plenty of people in the common room. Some of the patients looked a lot worse off than she did but then again she was probably 3 times as crazy as anyone here, at least she thought so. She had always considered herself lesser than everyone else, worse off than anyone else and now more messed up than the people her. She didn't have the slightest hope that she could be fixed and in some small part of her mind she didn't know if she even wanted to be cured. She was probably better off locked up in Ravenwood than out in the real world.

On the bright side she thought that Ravenwood suited her perfectly. Not at first though when her mother had shown her the brochures, the pictures had made Ravenwood appear sophisticated, proper, well-funded and well down right pleasant. How could an aslyum for the medically and criminally insane look that way and have the possibility of curing them? Her opinion changed dramatically as soon as she laid eyes on Ravenwood a few hours ago. With its run-down looking building, dirty barred windows, cracked concrete steps and foliage growing on the sides of it she felt a sense of relief. She felt more comfortable here now that it looked like how she felt she looked.

With a tired sigh, she laid down on her flat pillow and pulled the thin blanket up to her chin and decided to try and sleep. She tried to not to think about tomorrow but she failed. Her mind raced into the wee hours of the morning before exhaustion finally shout down her ever running brain. The last thought she had was, "Could tomorrow have any promise?"

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Dream on, dream on. Dream until your dream come true.
Sing with me. Sing for the year. Sing until the good Lord take you away.

Cynthia sat stock still in her office, watching the clock and listening to the monotonous ticking pull time onward. Her hands lay on the crisp white clean of her laptop keyboard, her back against the soft plush of her luxury, suede, overstuffed office chair, (Cerulean, of course, to go with the rest of her office). Her mouth was slightly agape as if she was in a trance, watching the eggplant colored second hand pass the lime green minutehand. She sighed softly, closed her eyes and took a deep breath and smiled. Her eyes were extremely bloodshot, the whites of them slightly yellowed looking, from her lifelong stint of coke, crack and cigarrettes. "God...damn..." she said under her breath, being overjoyed that she was dating a coke dealer. She always got the first pick of the batch, and she always new what was the best. Her nose was a bright, pronounced vermillion, with remnants of the popcorn colored flakes around the perimiter of her nostril.

She could still see where her line was when she had snorted it off of her desk. Using a piece of paper, she swept off the bits of powder into her baggie of coke and stowed the evidence (That being her blade and the coke) away and stiffed loudly and stood up in her now techicolored and blurred office and opened the gargantuan ebony door, letting in her first patient.

Liza was pushed in by her nursing attendant and put into the patient area of Cynth's office. Cynthia and the nurse then had a brief discussion about Liza's behavior over the past two days and how her biting habits had changed, the nurse then left and she turned to Liza, who had a fearful look in her eyes. "Lucky for you I'm having a good day." All she could see of the poor girl were her sky blue eyes, which were swimming in pure terror, the rest of her body was covered with a straight jacket, bound pants, and a face mask, to prevent her from biting anything, herself, or until most recently, other people. She then put a various amount of objects in front of Liza and undid her straightjacket so she could observe her. Liza sat and played with the objects, tried to put one near her mouth and looked extremely disapppointed. Cynthia could only watch with what she assumed pity felt like and took notes on her laptop.

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Love is friendship set on fire, and I'm glad I have that with you.

Matthew Keith Brown, Fiancee and my best friend 10/15/09

The only way to predict the future is to create it.

Gideon eventually arrives at the door to his office, tucked in the far corner of the asylum, along with some storage units. He preferred how far it was, for the fact that he did not like people around him when he did his administrative duties. With a sigh and a faint click, he enters his office. The first thing one notices when walking in, is how his dark mahogany desk clashes with the dull gray stones that comprise his office. Along with the desk, you can also see a large leather chair, metal filing cabinets, candles, a large mahogany bookshelf filled with research materials, a laptop and what seems to be torches that seem to have been recently lit. The faint glow of a lantern fills the room with a calming light, and with another sigh, Gideon sits in front of a stack of files. Some of these files being Transfers to the asylum and others being current residents, both doctors and patients. Before he takes one of the files, he swiftly opens one of his desk drawers and pulls out a small cigar. He strikes a match and takes a small inhale, slowly letting the smoke fill his mouth, and eventually escape. He leans the freshly lit cigar in the ashtray and begins to re-assign the cases, before he notices a peculiar but very helpful fact. There was a case, one Jane Doe, who seemed to have no information. Hoping to put his employees to good use, he quickly matched up the case with one Dr. Sebastian Valenti, who he knew from the interview had a hope to be a cop, and with that Gideon hoped that he would have some connections at a local precinct. Turning to the next patient, he noticed that he had transfered about the same time as Dr. Valenti. Gideon took Alex Kavanaugh's case and decided to take it for himself, as to prevent any "conflict of interests" that Dr. Valenti would suffer from.

Realizing it was late and that there was little time for sleep, Gideon unfolds a cot that was hanging inside the office, and tries to get some well needed sleep, as the next say would be plenty busy

"Cold cold walls..." Isabella spoke quietly to herself as she sat upon her bed, her back ruler straight, and her gaze looking out the large window. "Cold cold floor..." Of course, Isabella wasn't speaking, it was Anna. Anna usually took control during the night, when Isabella was sleeping. It either Anna or Damien, and Isabella was frightfully afraid of the older man. At night, when she was truly sleeping, Damien would awaken and do things to Isabella's body: such as scratch her, find ways to cut herself, and Isabella would awaken with unexplained bruises on her arms and legs. Out of desperation, the young girl had requested that her bed frame be taken from her room, so it couldn't be used to harm her.

"I can't live here...what happened to home?" Anna fretted while playing with her waistlength blonde curls. Somehow I have to get back." Her large blue eyed gaze flickered to the door before the girl laid down and put her head on the matress: her pillow having been removed along with the bedframe. Isabella was finally given control, and she slept soundly until the morning had come: the rising sun waking her early. Out of boredom, the girl woke up, went to a locked padded cabinet, and removed a brush. She then proceeded to brush her long curls 100 times on both sides.

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I don't weigh myself because I can't be bothered with it -Big Sue-

Tasha sat on the hard white mattress, with its single sheet and looked out her barred window. Watching the wind blow the trees in the twilight of night. If i go to sleep, they will come! She thought to herself, her green eyes beginning to crystalize with tears. Even after being at the asylum for 3 years, she still could not trust the doctors or nurses, if she put her trust in them, they would turn on her, Just like HIM!. She turned her head to look around her pitch black room, except for the little light that creeped out from under her door, the hallway light was always on. She stood up and crept towards the door and pushed her ear against it, listening for the footfalls of a nurse coming to kill her. She heard nothing and slunk down to her hands and knees, brushing her red hair from her face and leaned her head against the floor and peeked out from the crack. No one there, they are not coming tonight She thought as she began to lift herself from the floor, brushing her hands on her sleep pants.

Standing by the door, she leaned against it again, pressing her ear to it, only the sounds of night passed through to her. Sighing she looked over at her bed, and closed her eyes, a small tear escaping her left eye. Quickly wipeing it away she walked towards her bed and sat on the edge again. She looked to her feet and slipped of her slippers, and then pulled her legs up onto the bed and covered herself with the comforter. Laying down she slowly counted to 20, a process one of the doctors told her to try, to help her sleep. When she closed her eyes at 9, then slowly drifted to sleep at 18.

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On some nights, when he was sufficiently sedated and the day had been particularly good, Alex slept through the entire night. On the usual nights, he woke thrashing and screaming in utter horror, the night terrors unbearable. On every night, he was restrained while sleeping. It was safer for him and for anyone that might make an attempt to calm him down.

Sometimes, if he had been very good, Dr. Valenti would be there. And he tried to be very good more often than not.

But tonight, Alex woke up screaming, terrified in the early hours of morning. They’d moved him; he was unfamiliar with the room, even though they’d let him take everything with and told him Dr. Valenti would be there when he got up. It still scared him, and he didn’t remember when he’d gotten here or how; couldn’t even be sure what they’d told him was true.

There were things in the dark that just scared him so much. When he woke up restrained every time, it was even worse. A lot of the time he remembered his uncle tying him to the bed to punish him, or sometimes to the work bench if he broke something and had to put it back together. It made him cry, beside the screams that tore his throat raw from the terrible, unknowable, dark things in his dreams. But Dr. Valenti was going to be there and the sedative muzzy mind wanted sleep when nightmares finally retreated to the darkest corners.

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Night... "Everything's so pale and...'new' at night" were his thoughts while walking past the 'cells' of the patients. For Nathan noone who was on this asylum was considered a 'bad guy'. You see he had a filosophy. That everything that is in the mind can always be altered in a bad or in a good way. That is why he liked psychology. It was his 'partner' in the try of altering minds and making them better.

His eyes had seen many things, but everything here was different. Everyday something would be changed. Like there was something that haunted this place. "Nevermind..." he sighed. He took a look at the time. Almost 3: 15 am. Nathan was on his way to the Head's office.

When he got there he gently hitted the door three times and entered the room. Dr. Gideon had his head above some papers. "Hello Dr. Gideon. I think it is time that you asign me a patient. Do you have something interesting in mind?" Nathan said and waited for an answer.

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RP is the only thing I've been away since my 15 and the only thing that will be a part of my soul until I die

Jane Doe, Doe comma Jane, Jay, JD, Janey D. No matter how they prettied it up, she was still unknown, though she didn't mind that she was. She lie awake in her bed, afraid of the nightmares that seemed to leave her scared and sleep deprived. Slowly she drifted off to her dleep sleep and began to toss and turn in the dreams that she always dreaded.

It was dark, she was alone, and she could hear the distant dripping that was the culprit of the damp floor she was lying on (she hoped, at least) She tried to sit up and realized that there were ropes around her wrists and ankles, and her brain started to panic then. But her parents had always warned her that this could happen, as it was dangerous to be their daughter. She felt the cool breeze on her stomach and breasts-- Wait...what?-- She opened her eyes and they quickly adjusted to the dark. She could see her pale body in the very slit of moonlight that a crack in the wall of the room she was in let in. Now she was really freaking out, and it only got worse when she could hear footsteps approaching. She thought quickly and decided to pretend she was asleep.

"See? She's still asleep!"

"I've known that girl her whole life, she's faking it

"How can you tell , Alva, her parents always said she's quite cunning."

"I just know, okay." At this point she heard someone lean down and whisper into her ear "Wake up my sweet Nana-bell...Nanyana...Naya-bear..."

She pretended to stir out of fear of the drastic measures he would take to wake her up. She always felt uncomfortable around her uncle Alva and this was a definate concrete reason. "U-uncle Alva? Wh-where am I?"

"Safe, my dear, sweet bride."

"What?"

"Shh, I always knew that you would be mine..." She could hear shifting in weight and him unbuckling his belt and unsnapping his pants.

"What are you doing?!" She felt a hard slap to her face that brought tears to her eyes.

"I told you, Nayana Marie, to stay quiet. I want to enjoy this the way I was told I would." She heard him moving again and felt his weight on top of her. "Now we're going to have fun, and you're going to like it, Nana-bell. If you don't, then we'll be sure you'll remember it for all the wrong reasons."

Nayana's eyes became wide with fear as she felt a man for the first--

"NO!" Jane woke up in a cold sweat and began to cry. Every night it was the same dream and she couldn't do a damned thing about it. At least now she knew when to wake up before she saw it all again...

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Love is friendship set on fire, and I'm glad I have that with you.

Matthew Keith Brown, Fiancee and my best friend 10/15/09

The only way to predict the future is to create it.

Alaric squeezed her eyelids more shut to block out the early signs of morning. She had always been able to wake up at the littlest bit of light, while most people didn't even notice till you could already see the sun in the sky. She took a deep breath in and opened her eyes. She had made it through her first night without a nightmare. The same nightmare. "It isn't going to last." she thought to herself, "it always shows up and its bound to come back with a fury when the doc points out the multiple things that are wrong with me."

She didn't move. She just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to ignore the thought in the back of her head that nothing was wrong with her. She knew there were multiple things wrong with her, that she was probably the worse one in this ward.

She watched the ray of sun rise higher on her wall. It was hours after she had awoken that she heard the nurses shuffling about on her floor outside her door. They were clearly preparing for the day, getting charts, medication, making coffee and probably locking things. With that last one, Alaric thought it was probably best they locked stuff up before they let her out. She'd never done anything violent, that she can remember. Still, better to be prepared because you never know, she thought again.

She finally sat up after laying still for so long. She slipped on the blue socks the provided her, the ones with the grips on the bottom, and just set her feet on the floor. The doctor would be coming soon to introduce himself and probably get the preliminary questioning over. She didn't know what to expect. Alaric didn't want to cry in front of the doctor so she silently cried for a little bit to try and get it out of her system. "It's not going to do any good," a voice chimed in. And with that, the crying suddenly stopped, like someone turning off a faucet.

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Dream on, dream on. Dream until your dream come true.
Sing with me. Sing for the year. Sing until the good Lord take you away.