I wasn’t sure I could write anything, but I’m too close to the end of the month to give up now.
They said the Asylum was built long before the town. They said the town built the Asylum. They said a lot of things.
But no living soul in town remembered a time without the Asylum. Its shadows and lights shimmered at the edge of town for as long as anyone could remember, and few townspeople wanted to acknowledge it. They didn’t speak of the people who lived there. They pretended the people who worked there didn’t exist.
As far as anyone knew, no one from the town ever got a job in the building itself. A few intrepid souls got jobs as gardeners or deliverymen, but they were never allowed inside, and they said little about what, if anything, they saw.
But the town looked the other way when the night ambulance drove through the town to the Asylum gates. No one knew where the night ambulance came from or who it carried. No one wanted to know.
The night ambulance was seen only enroute to the Asylum and only after sunset. People who witnessed its passage had bad dreams and even fell silent for the following days.
On the night Hannah crept over the Asylum wall, many people found it difficult to sleep. Dogs paced in their homes. But even if the people got out of bed, frustrated and restless, almost no one looked in the Asylum’s direction.