Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

What’s that sound? I look around, out to all our guests who are seated in their seats. What is that sound? My eyebrows tug in in confusion and I look back at Bryant.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his face blurring like a fuzzy TV show that’s struggling to gather enough signal. A woman, standing in the shadows behind the tree comes into view, and I put my hand over my eyes to try to shade my view onto her. “Hey!” But she runs away.

“I—I—” I look out to our guests again, only they begin melting away. “What?” I whisper, my hand coming up to my forehead.

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

The trees all melted together in a puddle of wet goo, and when I looked back to ask Bryant what was going on, he was gone.

But there was someone there. Brooke stared back at me with a smirk, dangling a machete in front of her.

“Well, well, well…” She swung her arm back and launched the sharp side of the machete deep into my throat. Blood seeped down the side of my throat and I dropped to the floor, clutching my neck. Choking on the warm liquid that was filling my mouth, Brooke stepped over me as my vision came in and out.

This was bad.

I was going to die.

Where was Bryant? Oh my god, Harper! And who was that woman? Tears poured down my cheeks.

“Where—where—” I muttered, but failed because the blood was coming in so much faster now. So much faster.

“Bry—”

Brooke laughed, then launched her arm back. She grinned. “I win.”

Everything went black.

* * *

“She’s not coming back.”

Beep.

“Good riddance.”

A blood-curdling scream tears out of my mouth as I launch off the hospital bed.

“Nope, she’s back,” someone says beside me and exhales, taking a seat on one of the chairs.

“Where am I?” I look around the sterile white room, my eyes narrowing.

“Isa…” the weird man dressed in a white gown growls beside me. It’s then that I realize I can’t move my hands because they’re wrapped around my waist by a straitjacket. “Isa, it’s ok… we’ve done this so many times—remember? I’m Mr. Barrack, and this is nurse Turner. You’re still in the institution here at Merry Hill.”

“What?” I snap, shocked. Confused. Institution? What the fuck.

“Isa.”

“Stop calling me Isa!” I roar at them all, and that’s when I catch my reflection in the bleak window. “Oh my God! No….” I shake my head.

The doctor pauses and reaches for a panic button. “Justine…” he whispers to the nurse discreetly, his face pale while reaching for the panic button. “Justine, get help.” Then he looks back to me. “Brooke? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me!” I yell. “Why the fuck am I in this fugly slut’s body!”

The doctor turns pale and in one quick rush, he slams the palm of his hand on the panic button before whispering, “I never…she lost…” His shoulders dropping. “Isa lost.”

“Yes,” I smirk, finally realizing what he means. “And I won.” With all the power I can muster, I rip off the straight jacket, reach for the vase beside my bed and smash it against his head. “I wooooonnnnnnnn!” I roar, just as a dozen officer’s rush into the room and launch me back into my bed, injecting me with serum.

“Justine,” Mr. Barrack whispers, taking a seat beside the shaken nurse in the main lobby. “It’s going to be ok.”

“Isa’s really gone?” Justine mutters, swiping her eyes. “No more telling her stories.”

“She’s gone. But she’ll be at peace now. She’s resting with the wild stories that live in her head. Remember she suffered daily, Justine. What we’ve done, we’ve only done to help her get through those days. I mean reliving the same story inside your head every single day? That’s a lot to take on for a schizophrenic.”

“We never were sure if she was a schizophrenic, though,” Justine adds. “It could be psychosis.”

“But she lost, that’s what we know. The good person lost in this story. You know, in the four months that she was dropped here out of the blue, I felt a connection to her.”

“She did lose, and I too, felt a connection to Isa, but Brooke must have killed her. There’s no other explanation. I hated Brooke’s visits. She’s vile.”

Justine smiles, swiping her eyes. “Isa was a great girl. Told a good story. I swear, her story will never get old. Bryant and Isa. We can only dream to have a relationship like that, and Isa did. Daily.” Justine fought back all of her emotions that were surrounding her.

“She was special.” Mr. Barrack adds sadly. “But unfortunately, we can’t win them all. Sometimes,” he looks over his shoulder and toward the door which leads you into where Isa’s padded room was.

“Sometimes the bad people win.”