I used to stand outside of the old stone building, wondering who lived there and what was going on inside. I never saw people going in or out. Sometimes I would see a silhouette in the small window above side door. But I couldn’t see any features to identify the age or gender of the individual.
I asked around, but no one knew for sure what the purpose of the building was. Some claimed it was home to a reclusive religious sect. Others argued that it was a medical treatment center for the indigent, or a hospice for the terminally ill. Another theory was that it was a secretive government facility that could only be accessed via an elaborate labyrinth of underground tunnels.
It wasn’t until after I was arrested, charged, tried, and found guilty that I learned the truth about the old stone building. That’s when, very late one night, I was escorted, through that same side door that I used to watch, into the hospital for the criminally insane.
Written for Priceless Joy’s Flash Fiction for Aspiring Writers. Photo credit: Jade M. Wong.