The true retellings of the life of William Patrick Callahan while placed in the Rockfield Clinic.
Although today is my first day in the Rockfield Clinic in Crescent Valley, I can already see that the true monsters are not the patients but the people who “look after” us. These people claim to help us, but in reality they subjugate us to these awful tests for their own enjoyment. After these tests, the doctors always bend the results, so that each patient is labeled as a psychopath. Aren’t they truly the psychopaths making each patient scream while being forced to be the subject of the tests of these people? They sound just like the cops who arrested me, calling me a psychopath, when I did nothing wrong. Is it so wrong to always be on the pursuit of happiness? And when you finally find your happiness it is labeled as lucrative, crazy, messed up? I disagree and I plan to take down this conspiracy that is trying to withhold me from my birthrights.
I have now been here for just over three weeks and I already can’t take anymore. I would have much rather have been sent to that maximum security prison, but for some reason my lawyer thought it more appropriate that I was sent here. I could have taken the teasing of the cops of the prison, but the torture that the doctors here put me through is almost killing me. When I go in for my daily session with Dr. Nagle I always find a screwdriver on the table, and each day he picks it up one second before I can reach it. After I reach for the screwdriver his questions always seem extremely biased, to the point where no matter how I answer the questions I would be labeled as a psychopath.
Dr. Nagle believes he has made a breakthrough, but in reality I was just tired of reaching for the screwdriver and not getting the desired result. His questions also corresponded with his newfound enthusiasm. I have not been labeled as a psychopath since I reached for the screwdriver on Day 27. He also believes that in a month or two I may even be able to join the real world again.
I WAS SET UP. Someone does not want me to leave this clinic and I demand to know who it is. Whoever this person is left a screwdriver outside of my cell and I once again felt that rush of unparalleled joy. I used it to escape the confines of my cell and found the nearest person. This person was lying on the ground so I went over to inspect what was going on. The next thing I remember is about twenty guards pummelled me and the screwdriver was removed from my hand. I was then thrown back into my cell, where I looked down and saw that I was drenched in blood. I know that I did nothing wrong but nobody will believe me.
I visited Dr. Nagle again today, but this time I was accompanied by two guards and there wasn’t a screwdriver on the table. Dr. Nagle said that I would no longer be spending time with him, instead I would now be meeting with Dr. Rowan. I had heard plenty about Dr. Rowan from the other inmates and I was not too keen on meeting with him. He was described to me as the nearest thing to the grim reaper that walked the earth. Many claim to say that his eyes reflected death and his lean tall structure just added to the image of death. Before I knew it I was sitting outside of his office and I heard someone call, “I’m ready for you now, William. Please come in.” The meeting itself seemed friendly, but just as I was leaving Dr. Rowan made an offhand comment about how I would need a lobotomy.
I just found out what a lobotomy was and there is no way that I am going to allow this. Whoever set me up really wants to punish me. I believe this plot stems all the way up through our government. They could not stand the fact that I had become successful after I was born into the ghetto, with a single mother. This clinic is just a cover up to a much bigger plan. I plan to reveal this plot to the world and clear my name.
Today, I made my fifth attempt to escape the clinic, but to no avail. I should have known better than to try these direct escape plans I need leverage and with this leverage I will bargain for my release.
I’m a monster. I finally got the leverage I needed to escape when I held Dr. Rowan at screwdriver point (the weapon they have told me that I have used to kill 7 people). Dr. Rowan did not seem upset with me, on the contrary he seemed concerned for me. He began to ask questions like: “Why are you doing this?”and “Why would you escape? We’re trying to help you.” I let him go to explain how he was helping me and answer why I needed help. As an answer he pulled up the security film of me killing the patient that had been lying on the floor, with a screwdriver. Maybe the lobotomy will be good for me.
I can’t believe it has taken me this long to realize that the video that Dr. Rowan had showed was a fake. I know that I have never killed anyone in my life. Rowan had that video too close to him when I attacked. He must have known that I would catch on to his plot, so he had a fake copy made so that I would buy into getting a lobotomy. God! That reminds me the lobotomy is only three days away. I have to come up with a way to disappear from the eyes of the clinic.
I think the guards are on to me once again. They are tracking my every movement throughout the clinic. How am I supposed to disappear from their view when they are constantly watching me?
I finally got the opportunity I needed to escape during our time in the cafeteria. Some of the patients broke out into a nasty fight and the guards had to go in to break it up. I quickly slid into the mob scene around the fight. As we were ushered out of the cafeteria I found my one friend, Dave, who had originally told me of the horrors of this place. I told him that I needed a place to hide so he allowed me to follow him into his cell. Within an hour the sirens went off and a voice over the loud speaker said, “William Callahan, we know that you have not left the premises of the clinic and you need to return to your cell. If anyone knows of his whereabouts we recommend that they tell the guards. Until he is found no one will be receiving food.” Dave could not even stand the thought of no food and he turned me into the guards. I guess I should be wiser when choosing who I trust.
This could be my last journal entry. I was not able to go into hiding like I had planned and my lobotomy is set for twelve o’clock today. I don’t know what this procedure will do to me physically or mentally, so I want to get my message out there. The Rockfield Clinic of Crescent Valley, Louisiana is a part of the cover up the government has come up with to keep the lower classes where they are. This clinic must be shut down and the government must be investigated to protect the freedoms and liberties that are promised to the citizens of the United States of America. If these actions are not taken, more innocent people like myself may never be able to live their lives.
William Patrick Callahan’s lobotomy procedure went horribly wrong and he is now deceased. 9/20/23-3/14/57