Being the most handsome man in the psych ward has its benefits. This is the place where time reverses and dead men talk to all the pretty nurses, so naturally they (the nurses) have a soft spot for a young stallion such as myself. A man who doesn’t spit or piss on himself, a man who could sell the sun to a block of ice. My charm proved vital as I received benefits such as allowing to be unchained for 30 minutes each month. During these 30 minutes I could roam the entire hospital and its grounds.

I can’t remember when I first arrived at Grand Budapest Cente for Mental Health, and I think that has been their intention from the beginning. Situated in an abandoned town, the streets are barren and the surrounding shops closed. Picture a scene from a spaghetti-Western flick minus the tumbleweeds and dirt roads. Replace them with concrete and graffiti.

It was funny really, I had never done anything wrong but they chose to place me on the seventh floor, the highest one they had managed to build in 1964. This was the floor where the most notorious of the residents were placed. Air, musty from having been long enclosed, hung in all the rooms. 16 cells lined the single hallway, all encased in glass, and then reinforced with wrought-iron. Even if I wanted to escape I could not, but life was outstanding here. It surely had to be better than out there, around people and around problems.

I have been thinking about letting my hair grow, and I have been thinking about cutting it short. I have been thinking about dying it yellow, but I don’t think I have the bone structure or wardrobe to support that kind of look. I would not want to risk looking poorly for the ladies here, although they think so highly of me that it probably not make a difference. I reckon I could get Rodney to cut my nose clean off and they wouldn’t bat an eye. We won’t get into Rodney, but he has been growing his toenails allegedly since he got here – long before me.

Two guards in pink body armour with pink rifles escorted me wherever I pleased on my monthly journey through the halls. I exclusively spend this free time in the women’s ward on floor six. The women got to wear dresses in all colours and sizes which I was a fan of. Before returning to my cell I would always create a couple of mental images in my mind for later. I was greeted by Mrs. Entendu, who always looked after the women.

“Dylan! It has been far too long. How long has it been exactly?” She asked.

“Jesus Christ, you ask me this every time. 30 days. 30 fucking days.” I kindly replied.

Her eyes lit up in glee, and she winked at me while saying:

“You are such a sweetheart Dylan. I want you to meet our newest lady.”

I was walked over to a table that was foreign to me. It was made of crystal, and next to it was a golden chair, or a throne if I could call it that. Upon this throne sat a midget, or at least I thought so for the time being. She faced the end-wall window, and all I could see was a tiny frame and long black hair.

“Her name is Emerald, you’re going to love her!” Mrs. Entendu proclaimed.

So I walked up to Emerald, thinking about how long of a name that is. I thought to myself:

“Emerald…Emerald…Emera…Emer…Eme…Eme…Eme! What a nice name that is, Eme.”

As I got closer to Eme, all I could hear was a high pitched mumble, almost like a mouse squeaking. I couldn’t make out what she was saying right away, but as I drew nearer it became clear. “I’m a queen, I’m a queen, I’m a queen, I’m a queen”. She whined.

“I am Dylan, nice to meet you Eme. I live upstairs and figured I should come say hi. I hope I haven’t kept you up at night with my racket. I think my room is right above yours in fact. We should take a walk, you and I.”

I could see her face now. Although cute, and silent now, she stared into the window. She didn’t respond, and she just sat there with odd expressions on her face. Her lips contorted in all directions, creating shapes I had never before seen. Eye twitches and nose scrunches, everything. I could see why she was in here – she was crazy, unlike me.

“Allow me to open up the window, Eme. Surely you must be warm in that robe and crown”. I said.

“Never call me Eme again, and if you open up that window I am going to punch you in the dick so you can never have children – that is if they ever let you out of here. I heard about you, you’ve killed people.”

“You’ve heard wrong little lady, I am a God amongst men. I’ve slain serpents, I have cured world hunger, and once I get out of here I am going to free you all.”

While I waited for her response, one I wasn’t sure was even going to come, I took some time to assume things about her. She probably doesn’t wear her glasses, but she probably needs them to read. She probably values her downtime, but she probably doesn’t get much sleep. And she probably hates the movies, but she probably goes anyway. Hell I bet she even fights with her mother a lot when she feels like there’s nothing to say.

A response did not come, but something a lot more important did. The lights shut off, and for a brief moment I figured out what I needed to do.

I grabbed Eme’s hand as fast as I could, lifted her up and ran us to the window. It was pitch black both inside and out, but I had a feeling she was staring up at me. I opened the window and threw us both off the edge.