“If you need anything,” the nurse said, Aiden turning back to the woman, “please press this.” She pointed to a gold button close to the door, and then left.

Aiden stayed still, his entire being in shock. His hands shook viciously like his anger was being channeled into his fingers. Without his comprehension, Aiden’s feet lifted and brought him towards the door, his hands slipping around the ornate silver handle.

The sound of a key slipping into the lock grabbed his attention. Footsteps followed, and then utter silence.

Wooziness washed through his head, and the sedative slowly passed through him, His arms shook first, then his torso, and didn’t stop until the veins on his head were throbbing. Aiden threw his fists into the door, screaming until his lungs ran out of air. He turned, eyeing the moonlight bleeding through the thin curtains and pulled them away, only to find them barred over. Even so, when Aiden went to open the windows, they moved outwards slightly, their frames jamming against the bars. Once the wind swept into the Main Saloon, they’d slammed shut.

Aiden turned again, grabbed a tableside lamp, and threw it against the windows. It bounced and landed on the floor, dented only on one side.

He contemplated for a moment - Aiden could smash the windows and use the shards of glass to escape, but there was a chance he’d be caught. And, even if his attempt was unsuccessful, the shattered glass would let in the rain and cold, and he could become sick.

Angry and unthinking, he overturned the couch, still shaking; it was possibly in that moment when he finally realized the full extent of the situation.

But this is what his “tormentors” wanted. If Aiden Whitebell were to be taught a lesson, it needed to sink in. But he was neither closer nor father to understanding.

Anger ensnared him. He flung the lamps, overturned the coffee table, and threw the books from the shelves. Aiden cleared off the mantle in one motion, the faux marble clock shattering at the base of the fireplace. He destroyed the Main Saloon, pulling curtains and paintings down, throwing chairs, toppling the tables. The faux centerpieces and flowers scattered all over the floor, but even then, Aiden crushed and twisted his foot over the stark-white rose blooms.

Aiden paused; tossing aside some books he had wanted to throw out the window, after hearing a hurried knock coming from the door. He stepped lightly towards the door and cracked it open very slightly.

“Are you all right? I heard something crash,” she asked.

“I’m fine,” he muttered quietly.

The nurse tried pushing past him, gasping at what she was able to see of the saloon. “Mr. Haverman - ”

“No one will clean this, understand? Meals will be taken in here on the table. I don’t want to see anyone.”

“Mr. Haverman, your requests are absurd. You’ll be dining with everyone else from the hospital.”

“I take my meals in here, and that’s final.” Aiden pushed the door closed and, forcefully, turned the golden lock, sealed them shut. He pressed his back against the wall, and sat down on the floor, sitting on a small pile of tossed books and some of the faux marble clock. Aiden felt the door’s vibrations of something lying across its painted surface, followed by the soft footsteps of heels echoing through the halls. Gently unlocking the door, he glanced out and found himself staring at his reflection.

It was the mirror his parents had sent him while he was at school. Its frame was decorated in emerald and gold line, straight on the sides and curved and thin in the corners, stood at almost six feet tall with two small hooks to hang against the wall. But Aiden remembered that the mirror had shattered, its reflective surface gleamed in one piece. Aiden pulled it into the room, struggling after realizing it weighed a considerable amount. He moved his reflection to the opposite side of the room and propped it near the far window.

As Aiden steadied it against a table, he stepped back, his appearance made him suddenly yearn for the bandaged figure that stared back at him when he was at the hospital. He thought it wasn’t him, he thought he was safe, secure. He might have not felt normal, but he had assumed he was. He didn’t want to look at himself anymore, though, but this was his anchor back to his life. It had to be preserved.

Glancing around the room, he found himself disappointed in what he had done. Table legs had snapped off; they were also wrapped in the shattered frames of the paintings.

The large table of the dining area couldn’t stand securely, one of its legs had splintered. It most likely occurred when Aiden had swung a dining chair into it, and the leg simply crumbled. He propped it up with stacks of books, but it made the table tilt ever so slightly. A small side table, one that hadn’t shattered or broken to a great amount, was set up in front of the mirror. He took the faux flowers and put them on the side table, the white clashing horribly with the appearance of the mirror. Then again, it didn’t match anything in the room.

Amidst the intentional destruction of the room, the mirror and flowers looked undisturbed.

Aiden sighed, looked to the flowers with contempt and whispered, “I want red roses.” He felt the petals between his thumb and pointer fingers, discovering they were made of a soft cloth. “I could just paint them,” he mused, imagining the cloth tinted pink. “Or dye them.” His hand dropped to his side and let out a long, slow exhale that exhausted the oxygen in his lungs, this one filled with fatigue and hatred. As a last minute decision, Aiden threw a torn-down curtain over the mirror, allowing it to blend in with his surroundings, but only from the front. From behind, the stained wood of the back remained prominent.

Moving into the bedroom, Aiden threw off the sheets and drew the curtains. He made the room as dark as possible, and wanted it to remain that way for as long as he stayed. He lay down on the bed and bundled himself up tightly. He wanted to cry, but he simply didn’t have the energy.

He tried in recalling the series of events that led to this, but even his memory disappointed him.

But finally, his exhausted body finally losing all its energy, Aiden dropped off into a heavy sleep.