Seasons in the Asylum

I am brought out of Ward W03 with the rest of my striped stocking sisters to attempt to ingest an inedible breakfast. Although it is summer, (even without the sun, I can smell it in the moisture in the air), the long halls of the Asylum are dark and cold. Even though I cannot consume the old and rancid meat occasionally served in our soup bowls (oh, how I miss the fresh meat from my forest kills!), I am delighted to discover an old chicken bone in my soup. I immediately pluck it out and begin to gnaw on it, although I'm aware that most girls are disgusted. Not by me, but by the cook who dumped some old bones in the soup. I see some of the Chasers laughing condescendingly, but I ignore them. My sisters are all that matters, and most of them look amused as I gnaw away.
"Okay, ya loons," slurs one of the Chasers. "Out ye go." A small army of Chasers leads us out into the Walking Yard. It is my favorite place, for it is the only place I can get a breath of fresh air, although it usually carries the stench of death. Not as strongly as indoors, though.
I immediately drop to all fours and run circles around the Walking Yard, searching for any prey stupid enough to come near the Asylum. It is rare, for the birds aren't the only ones accustomed to keeping away, but once I found a black squirrel (clearly lost, for black squirrels are not indigenous to the area, as I have learned from my pack) and caught it. Before feasting on the creature, I skinned its pelt and kept the glossy black fur, adding it to my collection of spoons, odd bones, mysterious claws, and whatever else I can find, in my mattress. I only gave up the pelt once I met a girl with depression in the Asylum who would cry all night and was denied a tissue, so she could use the pelt as a handkerchief.
In any event, I only come up with grubs, and even I won't eat those. So, I parade over to W05W, proudly displaying the bone in my mouth. I drop it on the ground when I see no one is nearby who can take it, and pant proudly. "Look at my bone, darling! It's so white and shiny, like a pearl!" I recall seeing a pearl once when my pack migrated by the seashore. I miss those days...

"W19N!!" I hear the call from the chaser outside of my cell. I lay on the damp hay and wait.

"W19N! Let's go!" He's angry now and still I dont move. One more time..

"C'mon ya freak!"

Roughly am I dragged from the hay and forced down the stairs, through the dining hall (looks like I'm not eating again) and pushed into the uncomfortable heat. Looking around I see the other inmates milling around, recently "The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls" opened a ward for "Wayward and Indecent Boys", Doctor Stockill saw no problem with integrating insane girls and boys. The Chasers treated us all the same, which is to say not at all like humans. The boys were given the same uniform as the girls, only we were allowed undergarments, which soon became a kind of currency between the inmates of all sexes.

Slowly I wandered out into the yard and made note of where the Chasers were posted, no chance of an escape....mourning any chance of freedom I sat under the shade of a lone tree. Life at the asylum was brutal but this was a welcome respite from the chaos.

Moving closer to W05W, I see that she's in the company of another inmate, W03Z, names mean nothing here. We're all branded with our cell numbers, I sit myself down and show I mean no harm.

"I come in peace," I say as I sit down, I know how jumpy the original inmates are especially around us newer ones. Men haven't always been kind to the ladies here, but then again are "civilized" men ever kind to anyone that's different from them?

"I've seen you two around before. In the Dining Hall and in passing through Dr. Lymer's doors. Have you been here long?" I attempt at making conversation. I've become used to being ignored or just stared at by the other inmates. The rats however keep me company at night.

"I'm proud to say I was part of the first shipment of boys here, so roughly three months. I can't quite say how many there are, we're kept separated from each other." catching the worry in her voice I quickly add "But don't worry, the majority of boys that arrived with me aren't interested in ladies. And the more violent ones are being kept close to catatonic with drugs and kept in isolation cells." I smiled hoping to pass along some comfort.

I've slowly grown accustomed to the odd antics of some of the original inmates, I was after all a guest here in their house. My former home "The Workhouse for Disorderly, Unruly and Uneducated Young Men" sent myself and a number of other boys here-due to attempted suicide and defiant behavior-we were left in the care of Doctor Stockill and now we live among the girls, there was a brief period of anticipated revolt and fear when we first arrived, but upon seeing how broken, beaten and resigned we were the staff of The Asylum realized we'd be easier to control. I smiled and pulled out a scrap of bread from the top of my striped sock and offered it to the other two inmates.

"I managed to snag this last night. I'm not very hungry," in an attempt to make some sort of friendship I ventured another question "So why are you ladies here?"