It was always a bad sign when Jody started writing on the walls.
Usually it meant she was off her meds. Sometimes it meant they just weren't strong enough.
Occasionally it meant that the Timmens were back.
Jody's walls were usually spotless. She always used pencil, a small mercy for whoever cleaned up after her. She never let spiders nest in the corners, and flies avoided her room altogether. Even when the Timmens weren't there, the flies were afraid.
Jody kept many different colors of pencil. When she wrote, her pristine white walls became a strange kaleidoscope. The orderlies would halt in their tracks, staring at the riot boxing in the tiny floor. Sometimes they would murmur to each other, picking out patterns in the lines. Doctors to other patients would come to peer at the spectacle.
The walls were never photographed.
When Jody ran out of pencils, she would stand in the precise center of the ro