Ambrose IV


Moments later the door opened as Abbey’s father and Dr. Salem entered the room with Mr. Bali.  Abbey quickly raced to the glass and pressed his hands against the barrier that separated him from his ashen face father.

“Father please get me out of here I want to go home!” Abbey begged

“Abbey, it’s going to be okay. Daddy’s here, don’t worry.” he said as he pressed his forehead against the glass, in a desperate attempt to soothe his son.

Abbey watched his father’s eyes darken in fury as he eyed his gown, “Why do you have him dressed like that? He practically naked! He’s a priest! Not some harlot!”

“Father Davidson, if I may. I know this is a shock for you but your son here has had a mental breakdown. Earlier today he was raving about a wounded woman. I personally saw to it that the guards here searched everywhere and they could not  find not the woman in question. But what disturbed me was when he threw himself at me, there was no sanity in his eyes as ranted about her.” Mr. Bali said as he grabbed a file that Dr. Salem offered.

“Not to mention his activities he did while sleeping.” chuckled Dr. Salem.

Abby bit his lip as his face started to redden, he wouldn’t dare bring that up. His answer came when the doctor meet his eyes a cruel smile creeping across thin lips.

“What activities?” Father Davidson asked as he pushed away from the glass, much to Abby’s despair.

“I came in to check on him, and he was moaning a man’s name.” Dr. Salem explained a hint of lust rolling off his tongue.

Abbey saw his father stiffened. He could imagine his father’s face twisted with rage as he screamed at the doctor,” He wouldn’t be moaning anyone name! Especially a man’s! You’re lying!”

“I’m afraid my colleague is right, as vulgar as it sounds it would seem the therapy is no longer working.” Mr. Bali said somberly.

‘Therapy? What therapy?’ Abbey wondered to himself as he paced he in front of the glass.

“But you said that the treatment would be permit!” his father cried.

“Arnold, can I call you Arnold? I humbly apologize but it would seem that the treatment has began to relapse.” Mr. Bali  said as he laid a comforting hand on Arnold’s shoulder.

“Are you sure? What proof do you have?”

“Proof? Is that what you want? He ejaculated in his robes, is that enough proof for you Father? Man, he must have had a pleasant…” Dr. Salem stopped midsentence when Mr. Bail gave him a level glare.

“He…ejaculated? Inside… his robes?”

Abbey could hear his father’s voice crack, and see his father’s body tremble. Abbey felt a pit form in his stomach, this was not going to end well. That was plain to see when his father looked back at him with horror filled eyes. Abbey looked away, shame slowly creeping up his spine.

“Abbey, tell me that’s not true.” he barely whispered.

Abbey pressed even closer to the glass, eyes dull and dead. It wasn’t like he had a choice. Wynn had messed with his mind, his body, his soul. Yet the sensation of longing began to flare again, he almost wished that he was with Wynn.

His father eyes narrowed furious at silence. Abby’s mouth was dry, the words caught in his throat.

“Does the name Wynn ring a bell Father?” Dr. Salem asked as he stood between the glass and the man he spoke to.

Abbey could no longer see his father’s face, but his could see father’s hand clench into fist his knuckles turning white. Did his father know Wynn? How was that possible, if he himself just started to learn about Wynn.

“I know this is hard for you Arnold, but I think it’s time admit Abbey to further his treatment. All we need is your signature, and an I can assure you your son will receive the best treatment this facility has to offer.” Mr. Bali said as he flip through the file in his hand.

“As you should know Father homosexuality is a disease of the mind. And one to ruin your image of anyone finds out. Could you imagine? The son of a Father wishes to lay with a man, how unholy.” Dr. Salem almost hissed as he leaned against the glass.

“Just sign on the dotted line Mr. Davidson, and then we’ll take care of the rest.” said Mr. Bali as he handed a paper and a pen to Abbey’s father.

Abbey was horrified at the turn of events, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He wasn’t sick, he wasn’t insane. So why was this happening? Tears started to form when is father looked up at him eyes grave as he signed the dotted line.

“No! No, no, no! Father, please I am not sick! I swear, I’m not sick!” Abbey screamed as he smashed his hands against the glass.

His father glanced up at him tears forming in his own eyes, “This is for the best Abbey. You’re sick, they are going help you everything going to be alright.”





Tears flowed freely as the paper that sold his freedom was returned. Numbness swallowed Abbey as his father turned his back to him.

“You’ve made the right decision Arnold, I will personally see to his treatment. I’ll pamper
him like I would my own son.” encouraged Dr. Salem with venom leaking off every word.

The doctor smiled as he approached the door a firm hand on his father’s back as he began to steered him to the door.  Dr. Salem sent a dark smile over his shoulder as the knob of the door turned and opened. Not once did Abbey’s father look back.

His father, didn’t even say goodbye.

A sob caught in Abbey’s throat as he placed a hand over his mouth, as he slowly sank to the floor. The sound of approaching footsteps made Abbey look up to see Mr. Bail walking towards the glass.

Mr. Bail came to the glass dark eyes once more burning into Abbey, as he pushed the buzzer. “Guards, Mr. Davidson needs to be taken to his room.”

Behind Abbey the door opened allowing access to two guards, each baring a cruel smile. Abbey panicked as again he started to banged against the glass.

“NO! Why are you doing this to me?” Abbey screamed as the guards forcefully grabbed him.

Mr. Bail did not answer, as Abbey was manhandled out of the room and down the hall. He struggled, thrashed, kicked as he was taken deeper inside the asylum. A long dark hallway greeted them, as the silence crept all around when suddenly a door slid open.

Abbey was then thrown inside, he yelped when his head collided with floor. Panting he flung himself at the door in a desperate attempt to escape. He was to late, he slammed into the closed door. He begged, cried, for them to open the door once more. His response to his plead was the guards walking away laughing.

He stood flushed against the door until his legs began to tremble so he slowly sank to the ground knees to chest. He sat there until he shuddered when the cold floor reminded him about his state of dress. Abbey glanced over to see a cot with patchwork blankets draping the length of it. With shakily legs he rose and sat on it, wondering why this had happen to him.

A heaviness threaten to crush him as time seemed to slow into a dreadful nightmare. He had no idea how long he sat there staring at his hands. They were trembling, knuckles red from the pressure he was applying.

Silence became his companion as the uncertainty of time passed by. He was alone, and not even his own father wished to save him. That was a bitter pill to swallow, he wondered if anyone would even come for him.

“Wynn…” he mindlessly whispered.

The air became cold, as he shuddered. Perhaps he was loosing it for he could have sworn he felt a pair of arms embracing him from behind.

Ambrose V

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