The 13th

         Dianna sat quietly in her wheel chair as she listened to doctor Madden finished his clinical description. The patient stood motionless with his arm above his head. Dianna was amazed at how still he was. She would have thought him a statue had it not been for the fact that they were in an asylum and not a museum. It was like he was frozen in time, his white patients gown flowing as the air conditioning blew into his secure room.

         Dianna brown eyes took in everything. Her brother Malek had often wondered about her choice to become a psychotherapist. There were other things she could do, other paths she could take that would be easier for her, and for her family. She adjusted her hijab, more out out of habit than anything else. She could almost hear her brother's word in the back of her mind. Her hand unconsciously went to the red gem she wore as a necklace her father had gifted her that he found on an expedition in Jordan. It was cold, and it comforted her.

         "Would anyone like to gather a guess to Mr. Stevens affliction?"

         Her professor's question snapped her back to reality. She was in a small group of other students. They all floundered, content to stare at the patient and wait for the professor to answer his own question. She waited to see if anyone would step forward. The answer seemed simple enough.

         "He's a schizophrenic," she said, half as a question and half as a statement.

         "10 points to you Dianna. Now for the bonus round, what kind of Schizophrenic?" he asked calmly as he fiddled with his tie.

         "Catatonic" she replied.

         "Very good! There is hope for at least one of you," he said. Her classmates looked at her with spite as he continued his presentation. "Schizophrenia, which in Latin means fragmented mind, is a complex disorder. Catatonics remain in the same position motionless for hours on end. If moved they usually just move back into position. Mr. Stevens gets violent, hence he is in the secure part of the facility. Moving on."

         Her professor walked towards another glass wall. Dianna noticed he skipped a room. Inside a man lied on his bunk staring at the florescent lights of his room. He was about 5'10 and medium build with long black hair. He seemed physically fit and in better shape than her portly professor. She also noticed he was also extremely pale. Dianna could feel him watching them, even though his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. His room was small and the walls were covered in foam padding to prevent injury.

         "Wait, what about him?" she said looking into the room.

         He heard her. He turned his head and his eyes fell on her. She immediately felt self conscious and her hand went to her hijab again. She could also feel the gem grow warm, as if it was annoyed.

         "That patient is a complex and difficult case," said the professor, "it's best to leave him for another course."
         She turned her wheelchair when he jumped up from his bunk and slammed his fist into the glass. He startled her, like a black cat crossing her path. She could now see his eyes. They were black.

         "13!!" he screamed "Destroy 13!!"

         Her stomach lurched, like when someone walks under a ladder or finds a broken mirror. The thought shot into her mind. She pushed it from her mind as quickly as it came however. She was a scientist, not a simpleton.

         "Settle down Mr. Harrison or I will sedate you," barked the professor.

         "Then tell them! Tell her!!" spat the patient. He pointed a finger at Dianna, "tell her she needs to know! 13! Destroy 13!"

Two orderlies heard the commotion and stepped forward. The professor nodded and held up his hand. The two waited at attention.

         "Very well," he said, "if it will calm you down," he said somewhat vexed.

         "Mr. Harrison, suffers from triskaidekaphobia, a fear of the number 13. He broke into several museums around the world and smashed 12 very valuable artifacts before he was caught. He also suffers from disillusion and paranoia.

         The professor finished quickly and tried to usher the group on. She watched as Mr. Harrison opened a salt packet and throw the grains of salt over his shoulder.

         "It was the jinn, 13 jinn in 13 prisons, like the 13 apostles but evil. I destroyed 12. Destroy 13! She knows, she is a follower of Mohammad. You know Mohammadin!" rasped the unruly patient.

         "Harrison also believes that there were 13 apostles, Mary Magdalen being number 13. He claims the artifacts he destroyed were conduits for entities called jinn left over from the old world. Many psychotics believe in paranormal. Its fairly common. Moving on."

         "You know Mohammadin, you know where the jinn hides! You can end this! Destroy 13!!"

         "I assure you Mr. Harrison Dianna has no idea of what you speak" snapped the professor.

         "You can end this daughter of Mohammad, you have the power and you know!" said the patient again smashing his fist against the glass. The professor motioned at the orderlies who jumped into action.

         "No! She can end it!" he screamed as the orderlies entered his room and grabbed him.

         "Wait!" said Dianna.

         "Sir, the professor is right, I don't know what you are talking about," she said regretfully.

         The professor spoke again, "come along Dianna," he said.

         She looked at him one last time and turned her wheel chair to follow the professor and the rest of the class.

         "Your father didn't know!" Harrison yelled.

         She froze.

         "What did you say?" she asked.

         "You father, he didn't know. The 13thjinn! Your father gave it to you!"

         "What!?!" she said, "he did no such thing!"

         "He didn't know, but the 13thjinn is around your neck!!"