Today was my first day working for the mental institution. I woke around ten, and got a shower. I dressed in my black pants, shoes, and shirt. Over the shirt was my white doctor’s jacket. The color white didn’t’ suite me, but it’s not like I hade a choice in wearing it.
    I walked to work. The asylum was only three blocks away. As I walked I worried over people criticizing me. Or, making fun of me. What if I treated the wrong patient? What if I messed something up? What if I got lost?
    My stomach started to tighten as I thought of the day ahead. I felt a cold sweat on my forehead, and palms. My vision was growing cloudy.
    I hadn’t had a panic attack in years. Now they were back. No one could know, I didn’t want to have to be institutionalized again. And, I knew if someone found out, that is where I would end up.
    I walked into the institution feeling like I was going to throw up. The front room was all white, a desk in the center of the hall. This was the same institution I’d stayed at, but only a week, and a half ago. If my stomach was tight before, it was about to burst now.
    As I walked over to the brown desk, I spotted Deborah working on a chart. She glanced up as I neared the desk. Her eyes peering over her thick-framed glasses.
    “Hey, Damien,” she said perkily. I immediately wanted to shoot myself. I was not in the mood for perky people.
    “Hello, Deborah. How are you?” I asked. Although, I wasn’t in the mood for her perkiness, I still felt the need to be polite.
    “I’m great. Are you, okay? Your appointment with Dr. Laveney isn’t until-”
    “I’m not here for that,” I interrupted. Can a crazy man only walk into an asylum if he plans on being admitted?
    “Oh, then what are you here for?” she asked, glancing at her charts.
    “I’m working here now. Today is my first day,” I said, waiting for her reaction.
    “Oh, are you the new psychologist?” Deborah raised an eyebrow. Her tone was almost sarcastic.
    “Yes, I am,” I said sternly.
    “Oh…well, uh, I thought you were only twenty-one. You haven’t had enough time to obtain a doctorate degree,” clearly she wasn’t as observant as I gave her credit for.
    “I’ve studied, and experimented since I was seventeen. I did more than any normal college student. I have done plenty to obtain the degree,” I said.
    “Alright then. Here are your charts, and your office is down the hall, and to the right. If I’m not mistaken it’s number thirteen,” said Deborah. My heart clenched, that used to be Dr. Anozi’s old office.
    I nodded, and walked from the desk. The white walls lead me to a corner. Down the hall, from the corner, were brown doors. All the doors had gold numbers on the front. I walked down to door thirteen.
    I took a deep breath. This is where my time away from my room had been spent. Being in there would resurrect some memories I’d been trying to put to rest for the past week.
    I opened the door. A big black chair sat behind a large, mahogany desk. Books of neuroscience filled the shelves on the wall. I looked at the story of the cracks in the mahogany walls. I went around the desk, setting charts, and papers down. I pulled out the chair to sit. In the chair laid a single manila envelope.
    I picked up the envelope. My name was scrawled on the back in black ink. It was Dr. Anozi’s hand writing. My stomach lurched. I opened it up, and inside was a single locket. I opened it up, and inside was a single locket. It was a silver half-heart, with a sapphire stone in the center. My birthstone.
    I opened the locket, inside it said, ‘Even the craziest man, may have better morals than a sane one.’ I smiled to myself. That is what Dr. Anozi would tell me when I felt down.
    I put the locket on, and sat down. He knew I would have this office. What a wise man he was. I opened up a middle drawer on the desk. Inside was a single slip of paper. I opened it up, it was also from Dr. Anozi. It was a letter.
    Dear Damien,
    I assume you have discovered the locket by now. As you see it’s only half. Another person has the other half. When you discover whom, wait five months. After the five months are up, both of you need to come to Russia; to your grandparent’s home.
    Best wishes,
    Dr. Anozi.
    I looked up from the letter, to the wall. I sighed; he always wanted to make me work.