I call it Arkaly Memorial, in memoriam, sort of a nod of the head to the dead. It is a place you might not want to remember, what with all the sickness, and dying, and stuff and things. It has long shadowy corridors, dark rooms, flickering lights, breaches in the walls where the wind moans, still I like to think I brighten up the place. No sense being down I say, chipper, chipper. I mean some might find it a little daunting to live in a place where people are dying, and they are building jail cells. Me? I am happy here. There’s Dr. Vincent and Dr. White and Nurse Halely and others, I guess. I keep busy with my studies and sweeping and cleaning and nursing, and books? I find them and hide them all over the hospital to catch a moment of reading here and there. I do paperwork, record all that goes on and patient records too, though Porkins is always knocking them out of my hands, and Deputy Hurst breaks my pencils. Someone really should stop her I mean, how many more pencils does she think there are in the world. I do my job avoid the guards, and keep a positive attitude if I can, when I can. Sometimes I press my ear to the door to see if I can hear the chief in his office. I hear bumping around in there. I wonder what he is doing?