I’d been looking forward to this tour for months. Every spring, Brookhaven Psychiatric Hospital opens its doors to the public, for PR purposes.
The facility was bright and welcoming on the surface. But a faint sour aroma lingered beneath the lemon-scented air, and the light jazz playing in the sunroom couldn’t quite drown out the occasional disturbing cry.
As the bus departed, I sat by myself, contemplating my visit. We passed through the iron gates, leaving Brookhaven and its mysteries behind...
…and I have about three hours until they discover the tourist I bludgeoned and stuffed into the broom closet.
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