Little Petunia

"Come on Petunia, your dad's here to see you," Mrs. Wilkinsworth called, her glassy yellow eyes fixing on the young white lynx that bounded down the hall, his little red scarf waving with the air.

The lynx was petite, unlike Mrs. Wilkinsworth, a well-groomed, blonde tiger who wore a detailed rosy-pink dress and a cute flower headband. Her fur was as soft as a rose's petals and she was good-hearted, to say the least, with a pelt that smelled as if she rolled in flowers. Unlike many of the inhabitants of the building, she was like a diamond in the coal. Petunia was a tiny, frail youngster with a big heart, but his brain was broken if it was investigated. Although he was cute in his little red sweater and scarf, he was far from normal.

The Willowflower Asylum was one of Jamaa's only mental institutions, and was one of the "darkest" in the seemingly cheery town's history. The big, dull brick hospital lined with many windows was sheltered from the public by tall, thick oak, pine, and hickory trees with the black fences warning trespassers to stay away. The thick deciduous vegetation and leaves were scattered among the forest floor, light barely reaching the ground, blocked by the thick leaves of the trees. Their long branches reached to one another, sheltering the institution from any airborne viewers.

Unlike the outside, the interior of the asylum was quite organized, walls lined with white cement and the ground carpeted with hard stone tiles. Windows were blocked off by thin metal bars and screens, preventing any possible escape. The halls were lined with large metal doors with locks and codes built into the walls, every single room's number scratched onto a slab of rock. Although these halls were quiet and cold, the back section of the building was closely guarded by trusted personnel.

Nobody knew what was behind those big metal doors leading to the "psych ward," except for little Petunia- the little lynx who knew it all.

Petunia stopped dead in his tracks as his toes barely brushed Mrs. Wilkinsworth's tail fur. His whiskers flicked as he straightened his body at the sight of the front doors opening. His father, a very large brown-and-tawny spotted lynx, padded into the lobby, checking in by the front desk. Petunia held back a crisp growl as he eyed his father's navy blue suit. He must've got out of a meeting just minutes ago- or many hours. Petunia's father was known for not changing his clothing for days at a time.

Petunia's pink eyes locked with his father's amber ones. A pang stabbed his chest as he cringed at the sight of his own family member, haunting memories flooding back into his head. He could feel them brush the backs of his eyes and face, but the little lynx forced himself to shake it away.

"If it isn't my son," he said in a deep voice, staring at Petunia with half-squinted eyes.

"Welcome, Mr. Virhe," the blonde tiger purred to the visitor. "It's been quite some time since I've seen you- or any of your family, really- around. How have you been doing, sir?"

"I want to know how my son is doing," Mr. Virhe growled, his disappointed expressing shifting to a fake smile that could be described as "cold" in Petunia's eyes. "It has been ages since I've seen my boy."

"He's doing... just fine, sir," Mrs. Wilkinsworth hesitantly said, anxiety laced in her mellow voice, as it was shaky and cracked at the last word. "Petunia, isn't that right?"

"Uhmmm..." Petunia stammered, his voice slightly high in pitch and shaky. He swallowed down his fearful remarks that were on the tip of his tongue and cleared his throat. "I'm okay."

Mr. Virhe's fake smile drooped to an unhappy frown as his cheap phone began to buzz in his pocket. He let out a small sigh before saying, "I'm sorry, but I have to go now. I have an important meeting to go to right now. Mrs. Wilkinsworth, take care of my boy, will ya? Bye."

Petunia's eyes widened as his father casually turned away from them and slammed the front doors shut. His heart began to sink in his chest, feeling the abandonment hit him like a bullet to the head. The breath was forced out of his weak lungs as he began to violently cough. Mrs. Wilkinsworth gasped as she caught him in her big, soft paws as he collapsed forward. Tears began to stream down his face. "He just l-left me!" he cried out. "He's gone! He hates me!"

"Petunia, please calm down!" Mrs. Wilkinsworth commanded softly, rocking him in her paws as three polar bears dressed in long lab coats padded in, rearing up on all fours. "Please take him back to his room. I don't want him to get hurt."

Petunia hissed as one of the polar bears picked him up, gripping his knitted sweated as they walked down the hall. He kicked and yowled with all of his might, clawing at the air and spitting. "Let me go!" he spat at the personnel as one of the three opened the big, metal doors that lead to the psych ward.

--

The lynx sobbed into his covers, burying himself into his mattress sheets. He clawed at his pillows, hitting his tail against the white padded walls in "his room." He looked around, eyes swollen with tears that stained his soft, feathery pillow that was beneath his chin.

There was a shade of black that vanished from the corner of his eye.

WIP!

'''I'M NOT DEAD! So I decided to swoop back in to write a Halloween-themed story. Don't worry, I'll be working on this when I get the chance. There's gonna be a LOT more content, so be prepared for a really long story!'''