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"I’m not suggesting for a single minute that you behave in this manner because you want to, I don’t think you can help it. Randall Harland’s panic was increasing. He didn’t need this, and he wasn’t sure how long his composure would remain. His fifteen-year-old daughter Kassidy was more than a severe setback to him now; she was a potentially lethal threat. She’d been talking, to one of her schoolteacher’s of all people, forcing him into all manner of spurious counts of behaviour; he’d had to lie like never before, take drastic measures to cover himself. Kassidy, his beautiful belligerent daughter had dropped him completely and unequivocally in the shit. His hands were shaking now, the voice high pitched and wavering. He was using every ounce of self-control he possessed not to seize hold of her by the throat and shake the living daylights from her. Or worse. It had crossed his mind to tightly squeeze that beautiful soft throat; at least she’d be silenced. No, not a good idea, would open a whole can of worms, get people talking, and thinking…

Everything he held dear was on the line at this very moment, his job with the Americans, the mock Tudor mansion he’d paid an obscene amount for, not forgetting Leila, his beautiful but immature wife of the past six years. Leila needed luxuries that would not be afforded by a man in a prison uniform, and with her flawless good looks, he would soon be replaced, that was for sure. Leila wasn’t exactly over schmaltzy when it came to love. Money was her prime objective. He didn’t mind particularly; she made him look and feel good. But the state of affairs with his errant daughter had to end right here and now before she destroyed them all. Kassidy was holding everyone to ransom, inadvertently, perhaps. But occasionally he had the distinct impression that she knew exactly how destructive her behaviour had become, and that it was all very calculated. She missed her natural Mother, he was aware of that but she knew too much, way too much about the first Mrs. Harland’s disappearance. She’d obviously kept it all to herself, until now that was. But how could she possibly know for certain what had become of her mother? That part he didn’t understand. Randall Harland stared hard at his daughter. His small pale grey eyes willing her to look at him, but the blonde tousled head was bent downwards in a gesture of defiance, her tear brimmed turquoise eyes burning into the grass beneath scuffed school shoes. One white cotton school sock pulled up below the knee, the cable pattern twisted and cockeyed around her calf, the other sock crumpled in typical Kassidy fashion around her still skinny ankle. Why couldn’t she be more like her sister? He thought. Verity was two years younger than Kassidy but smart, she didn’t get into trouble at school and generally did as she was told. Verity was not problematic or temperamental. She had never given cause for concern. A little bland perhaps, no one had or probably ever would accuse her of being the life and soul of the party, but she was a calm kid nonetheless. Quiet and studious, not quite as pretty or engaging as her older sister, but then that was surely a blessing. Obviously Verity was too young to commit to memory her Mother’s departure, but surely Kassidy wasn’t conscious of too much of what happened during that time? Or as it now stood, maybe she was. The urge to grab Kassidy was dissipating; and he felt a lurch to his stomach as he noticed a tear slither down her cheek, leaving a streak of dirt free skin in it’s wake. She was fighting now to control the quiver to her lower lip that seemed to have afflicted her from birth and which usually preceded floods of tears. This situation was regretful, but he really had no other option. The course was set.

Kassidy was twisting a crisp green cabbage leaf between her fingers, midway through feeding the family pet rabbit Bo jangles when her Father had ambushed her. The black and white animal sniffed impatiently, his whiskers twitching in anticipation. His dinner was not imminent after all.

Kassidy Harland was afraid of her Father and right at this moment felt too fearful to look up at him. He was a large man standing at well over six feet tall, and in comparison to her diminutive stature, he seemed like a giant. He could be kind, and then suddenly incredibly cruel without warning. There were no displays of tenderness, any goodnight kisses or games in the park. He had once thrown a pet kitten against the wall during an argument with Leila, whom Kassidy disliked, mainly for creating a void between her Father, herself and Verity. Things might have been different without Leila, and with her own Mother home. Poor Verity was too timid to speak up for herself, Kassidy had to do all the negotiating, often risking a severe beating in the woods away from the house-and Leila who had not seen the true colours belonging to her wealthy husband. Though the kitten had survived the ordeal with a broken leg, Kassidy had since kept the family pets far from her father’s reach. He hadn’t much time for animals, and none whatsoever for Kassidy, this she knew for certain. Randall Harland had no time for anyone but the painted Leila who disappeared up the stairs every Saturday afternoon with the Grocery delivery boy in her husbands’ absence. Any other spare time he had, he lavished on his Black Jaguar XJS, which he waxed religiously every other Sunday. All of a sudden Kassidy summoned up the last of her bravado and stared straight into her Father’s eyes. "I saw you do it Daddy, you know I am telling the truth." Randall Harland was taken aback, not just at his daughter’s sudden brazenness, but also the flash of anger and rebelliousness, that resembled her mother Sascha so powerfully; that for a split second he was fearful and confused. Kassidy threw the scrunched cabbage leaf into her father’s face in a fruitless gesture designed to disorientate and made a run for the stable gate at the bottom of the gravel driveway. She would hide in the woods until dark, until the household began to look for her. With Leila in tow her Father wouldn’t dare slap or mistreat her. Leila was ridiculous and juvenile, but she wouldn’t allow aggression of any kind in her presence, threatening to leave home for good if Harland didn’t quit shouting and yelling. Randall Harland reached out for his daughter now with a force and anger so strong, that he felt he could quite easily kill her. As she turned on her heels to run, the scenario became slow, practically frozen. Randall all but rugby tackled Kassidy around her skinny legs, forcing her to the ground. Kassidy screamed as the full weight of her father fell on top of her, she was lying with her face pressed into the sweet smelling damp grass of his prized lawn gasping for the breath she could barely draw, her lungs feeling as though they would burst any moment. She could feel the coolness of the moist earth, as it began to seep through her thin cotton school blouse. Each muscle in her body tense and rigid, using every available scrap of strength within her tiny frame in a desperate attempt to push the dead weight from above her.

"Quickly, get your Asses over her!" Harland yelled breathlessly, his struggling daughter wriggling furiously underneath him. "She tried to attack me! She’s gone fucking crazy!" Kassidy was screaming now, she was hurting, and hadn’t noticed the two white uniformed male nurses running across the garden towards the skirmish. The smaller, older plump nurse with his arm raised, holding aloft a syringe now picked up speed and raced towards the writhing heap. Suddenly the weight lifted from her body as her father, panting and wheezing his dark blond hair ruffled and obscuring his eyes, retreated.

"We’ve got her, please stand back Mr. Harland." At that point, and without Kassidy ever taking stock of the situation, the nurse discharged the contents of the syringe into the top of Kassidy’s arm, plunging the needle so deep, it scraped the bone. She moaned quietly and turned over slowly onto her back, panting and weeping erratically as the men released their grip of her gradually. Her Father was staring down at her now, a look of utter shock on his face. She looked deep into the cold grey pools of his eyes, which were frozen over. Hardly believing that this man could possibly be her father, anyone’s father for that matter. The other two faces were not so familiar to her. Nor were the uniforms they wore. Within seconds, a strange vibration ran through Kassidy’s body, she tried to open her mouth to speak but nothing came, it felt quite nice despite the fear, which was now subsiding, the man with the needle smiled down kindly at her. "It’s okay sweetheart, go to sleep for a little while, everything will be just fine." and at that moment without warning, she dissolved into the blackness of a drug induced twilight.

"Just hold on a minute or two Mr. Harland, we’ve shot her with Valium, it will knock her out cold while we get her to the hospital." Said the younger of the two male nurses. "Jesus, she’s like a wild cat! Feral almost, I think we’ll need restraints."

"Yes that may be wise, thank god you arrived when you did, she attacked me so viciously I was afraid I’d be hurt. Will she be alright?" A plausibly distraught Randall Harland tucked his wrinkled grass stained Jermyn Street shirt back into his trousers and swept his hair away from his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Yes, sure. We’ll take care of her. She’ll be in high security while she’s assessed. We’ll restrain and isolate her for the next few days, make sure she can’t do herself any harm. You do realize that she’s been sectioned under the Mental Health Act Mr. Harland, and as young as she is, not too many people actually leave Black Cross Asylum for what could be considered some time, if at all?" The older nurse was beginning to feel a little sympathy for the motionless child. As he bound her arms with leather straps to the sides of the stretcher a pang of sadness swept over him. She was virtually the same age as his daughter Louise. She looked so innocent, all tousled blonde hair, such a pretty looking girl and Black Cross was no place for a kid. Especially not one that looked like Kassidy Harland, shit the place was filled to the eaves with horrors undreamed of by the sane. Absolute total fucking nutcases. They literally bounced from the walls. You needed one foot in the door of insanity just to enable you to work there by all accounts. He was resigned to the fact all the same, she’d been sectioned by two people, her doctor and her own Father, so she was obviously a little skewed somewhere along the line. And crazies were crazies, he surmised, and once institutionalized, she more than likely wouldn’t want to leave. That never ceased to amaze him. You could leave the doors wide open, not one loon would break for the gate, they’d shit bricks and howl incase anyone walked in, or god forbid tried to throw them out; they were all so shit scared of life on the outside. Of the nuts on the outside, because for sure, and Nurse Tom Ellwood knew it for certain, there was more insanity outside the elegant wrought iron gates and security patrolled ten feet high walls topped with razor wire of Black Cross Asylum, than was ever contained within them. It was all just a question of time, before the loose ones were rounded up and brought ‘home.’ And he was certain also, that they knew exactly who they were. Yes, it was all just a question of time.