“Welcome, Bradford, or should I say, inmate #1284.” Bradford was dragged into the examination room; he spat at the doctor.
“What could you possibly want, Doctor Han, or should I even call you that? You have already taken everything from me.”
“Bradford, you are quite mistaken. I am only repaying you for many years of misery. You destroyed my life when you married my beloved Sarah, but now neither of us can have her since you, or should I say, ‘I,’ murdered her.”
His hands shook and his body tensed as he looked like a rabid dog launching at the doctor’s neck.
“She was never yours. You caused me to become this monster of a human. Why do you torment me every day?” The doctor came inches from Bradford’s crazed eyes and began to cackle.
“I have merely encouraged who you have always been and you are now where you belong.” The doctor turned towards the officers near the door.
“Guards take this insufferable being away from me.” They dragged his deranged body away from the mental asylum doctor.
“1284, arms in the jacket or I will have to call the doctor to give you the meds,”
Through bloodshot eyes & violent tossing of his limbs he stared deep into the soul of the guards,
“Peter Han is the mentally deranged man. He should be put into these restraints, he murdered my wife. Han hangs the memory of my wife in front of me each day.” With that he felt the needle penetrate his skin and his body went limp. He dreamed of seeing his beautiful wife Sarah in front of their yellow house, then darkness closed in. He remembered when he met Peter Han at his first appointment. Han fell in love with Sarah as he treated Bradford for his mental disabilities. Han loved her from a distance and died inside when he found out that they were engaged.
After a month of being married, one morning Bradford woke up to find Sarah lying in a puddle of blood next to him in bed. Next to her was a note written from Han,
“Bradford, I always win.” Unfortunately, Bradford was put in the asylum because he was framed by Han and deemed mentally insane. With the memory of his wife’s murder he awoke in a cold sweat in chains in front of the doctor.
“You still have dreams, don’t you? You pity of a man. Always a dreamer, weren’t we Bradford,” the doctor laughed and mocked his pain.
Bradford shrugged.
“Fortunately for me I was able to live my dream, unlike you who always seemed to watch them float away.” Bradford sprang at the doctor and they struggled for several minutes. Before Bradford could kill the doctor, a bullet was put into the back of his head by a guard. As he died, he saw the twisted smile of the doctor
“I always come out on top, Bradford.”
—
Photo Credit: Griffin Museum of Photography
