At the height of the lunar eclipse on December 21st, 2010, a Jane Doe known as Patient 28 disappeared from her room at Sabbath Day Asylum.
I was her doctor. And this blog is my confession…
Patient 28 was registered into Sabbath Day Asylum on the morning of June 21, 2004. On arrival, she was catatonic, unresponsive to external stimuli.
What records we received indicated our Jane Doe was 33 years old. She was an unknown identity, it appeared, by design. In addition to having no name, Patient 28 didn’t have any fingerprints. The tips of her fingers were smooth. She wasn’t mutilated. Patient 28 was born this way.
What records we received for Patient 28 came sealed in an envelope: a post-it note on a photo, paper-clipped to a letters and 3 checks.
The 1st letter was signed by B. Grin, Esquire and instructed Sabbath Day to cash the first check immediately. It was enough money to cover 7 years of care for Patient 28 at a generous rate of inflation.
The 2nd check was a donation to Sabbath Day Asylum, enough money to cover ten 7-year stays at a generous rate of inflation. But this check was postdated January 1, 2011… as was the 3rd check, but this one was made payable to me…
The instructions were explicit. Patient 28’s stay at Sabbath Day Asylum was contingent upon me, the managing physician, caring for and treating her.
At the time, I didn’t realize I knew her.
Aden Moss
The 2nd letter was a handwritten note from Patient 28. It was dated six month prior…
Guy Penn 