OSD Frank Morgan, Chapter Two

After that, i tried multiple times to use what he told me to reach inside his hermetically sealed cocoon of silence to reach him, with success. his paranoia decreased further and further but he never talked about any of it ever again. Dr. Berret interpreted the white man as a psychological coping mechanism. An emotionally reachable figure with which Scott tried to move the tragic disappearance of his friend to a, for him, comprehensible level. I agreed however not entirely with doubts. Many months later, long after scott was released home, i recieved a crushing message; during a walk, the boy suddenly ran away from his mother, climbed over the bridge of the Atlas bridge, only to fall many meters into the deep. All of it happened excatly one year after the disappearance of Toby Jenkins. Scotts death hit me hard, he was my first patient here in Blackwater and during our time, my bond with him grew strong. From a therapeutical standpoint, we always had a professional distance but something about the boy touched me; and didn't let go.

However the memory began to fade. The years went and the reflex of forgetting began to take action. I probably wouldn't have ever thought about the park if i wouldn't have met Steward Falkner, a former librarian, 239 years old, who lived in Saint Christophers, a retirement home very close to the clinic, for more than 45 years now.

Steward Falkner was extremely remarkable not only because of his outside, closely resembling that of a windswept Abraham Lincoln, but also because of his nearly unclassifiable condition: The diagnosis was a rare case of bipolar disorder, with extreme mood swings. The Special thing about Falkner was, that his depressive episodes came with severe catatonic shock. He fell into shock, which often lasted many days, keading to him having to be nourished artificially. When he awakened, he immediately fell into hectic activity without being able to remember anything of what had happened the other days. It was extremely hard to treat him, as most other cases are triggered by events in the past. But not with Falkner.

After leading a Solid and grounded life, he suddenly went into an unexplainable state of shock after an evening walk in the year 2540 and was consequently brought to us. Since then, his condition steadily worsened. With him it was always night or day. No in betweens, either euphoria or depression. Either he was busy cutting out and sorting catalogue coupons, or he laid there, petrified, staring at the ceiling. During these times it simply wasn't possible to reach him, neither verbally nor through the use of medicine. It seemed, he completely retreated into his own microcosmos of senseless actionism or complete emptiness. Despite all this, it stil was impossible to not like the old man; how he, after enterin his room, looked up from his completely overloaded tinkering table only to greet everybody with "Charlie! How nice that you could make it!" He called everybody Charlie, no matter if male or female. After that, he focused back on his activity, only to tell everybody upon leaving how nice it was of Charlie to have been there.

That's how it was for weeks and months until one day, it came to a very bizarre incident: After being done with my routine inspection of Mr. Falkner and being ready to leave again, i paused perplexed. Where was the goodbye? Mr. Falkner was sitting at his table as always his face in a huge prospect of promotional items. His facial expression however wasn't the same happy grin, but a deeply touched, horrified stare. In complete horror, he again and again pointed at a certain item in the book: "There!, There!" Irritated i took a step closer only to see what he was looking at. It was an ordinary Furnishing Catalogue. Displayed was a modern kitchen in Vagesian Style, including a 2 meter work space and a Double Doored fridge. The "Frozen King". A model found commonly throughout Blackwater city as it is the standart issue machine fitted by default in every home aswell as an old grandfather clock, which didn't seem to fit into the scene at all. He was like in trance. I softly touched his shoulder and asked "What are you seeing, Mr. Falkner?" his finges now pressed even harder onto the paper "There! There!" he said "The evil room! I was there! Alone! With.... him!" confused i bowed down to him "who do you mean?" Falkner began to shiver and whispered "The... The Clock... He came out of the clock... Horrible clock... terrible eyes..." the sweat began to drip from his forehead. I quickly drew out a syringe with a sedative as i continued talking. I wanted to... i had to know it. "Who, Mr. Falkner? Who came into this room?" suddenly the old man grabbed me and dragged me down, close to his face. It was only two words. "The White man... Don't let him get me... Dr. Morgan!" Then the tense moment stopped, and his grip losened. Slowly, Falkner resumed browsing the catalogue and, with audible enthusiasm, began cutting out a long expired shopping coupon. The dramatic moment of clarity only remained a few seconds. Now his subconscious returned into his own little world. This time, forever. No word or picture could ever wake him up again.