Once Upon a Crime by Jimmy Cryans

difference that my version was set in an English country house and not in a secure hospital – other than that, the cast and characters are pretty much the same. I was the only one who had been sent there by the courts – all the others were there voluntarily or had been placed there by their GPs or psychiatrists.
    The only way I can describe them is to say that they were off their nuts and a real bunch of misfits. I suppose that was why they were there in the first place, but I was a criminal and I had absolutely nothing in common with the ‘moon people’ as I called them. The bottom line for me was that they were from a totally different planet. These eight guys and seven females had a variety of different problems, being drink or drug-related or being emotionally unstable. Most of them were on one kind of medication or another – tranquilisers, I assumed, because when they failed to take their medication, some of them became really fucking bonkers.
    I found that my own mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Christine and James. She had not been at court and it was pretty much a done deal that our relationship had run its course. Although I had accepted the inevitable I was nonetheless filledwith a certain amount of sadness. Christine had been my first true love and she had been good to me and good for me. Although I also knew she had started another relationship with someone else, I bore her no malice. The real pain for me was that I knew it was never going to be the same for James through no fault of his own.
    The coming days were filled with sessions that involved role-playing and these had to be seen to be believed. The group had to enact scenarios. I selected ‘You are a red Indian.’ I thought, ‘Right, you fucking space cadets, I’ll give you a show’ and when my name was called I immediately jumped onto my chair and started screaming ‘Kill all white men, they speak with forked tongue!’ at the top of my voice. I accompanied this with a series of blood-curdling screams and war whoops. When I had finished I calmly resumed my seat and looked around at the others. It was quite a sight: some of them looked frightened, others were quite clearly in shock, one or two were sniggering and the two housemasters avoided my eyes and pretended to be busy writing furiously into their notepads.
    Eventually one of them said, ‘Thank you, James, that was very revealing.’ I instinctively knew that he was trying to intimidate me and that this was his way of telling me that they knew what I was all about, but I really didn’t give a fuck what he or any of them thought. I was simply being a bit subversive and I knew that he knew that.
    It would only be a matter of time before I had had enough and it would be time for this cuckoo to flee the nest. So I started to give some serious thought to the best way to depart and where I would head for.
    On what would prove to be my final day with the ‘moon people’ I had once again gotten into a heated argument withone of the psychologists, with the end result that I was told I had to spend some time in the ‘silent room’. This was a room upstairs in which the walls and floor were covered in mattresses, almost like a padded cell, and a patient could be alone to let off a bit of steam by screaming and throwing themselves around. After about an hour I was summoned to rejoin the group and was informed that due to my antisocial behaviour I would now be required to wear a sign around my neck which stated, ‘I am antisocial. DO NOT SPEAK TO ME.’
    I quickly devised a plan to subvert this latest ploy and turn it to my advantage. This was quite easy to do as I simply asked questions of the other patients along the lines of, ‘What do you think of these new plans to withdraw all medication?’ or ‘I hear that they are taking you to the zoo to learn how to feed the lions – aren’t you scared?’ This not only produced a verbal response but it also had the effect of some very