A story from the Asylum…
You’d go crazy too if people called you Dopey all your life. Of course I went over the edge. All those years living with only men, finally managing to have a girl in my life–not that she was mine, I know, even if she did kiss me. And it was my only kiss ever. The guys sure did think that was funny.
Yeah, I know it’s crazy to think she could’ve ever liked me, but after years of living with six other men, you can’t blame a guy for dreaming.
Everybody thinks I snapped the day she left. You heard the story, didn’t you? Everybody’s heard. But no, when she ran off with that guy she’d just met, I was hurt. Sure. But that’s not what did it.
It was that night in bed, in that room I share with the guys. One of them–I won’t say cause that don’t matter–said, “I bet Dopey’s in his bed crying.”
The others laughed.
That’s what pushed me over the edge. I’m sorry for what I done, of course. They were closer than brothers to me–everyone knows that. You know that, right?
They say when I’m well enough, I’ll get to leave the Asylum and transfer to the prison. They tell me prisoners work in the mines.
Kind of funny when I think about. I would’ve thought they’d never let me hold a pick axe again.