There were questions that needed to be answered. That's what I was told by my boss, B.J. Thomas, before being pushed on a ferry to Shutter Island, my PA being dragged in toe. I had been inquiring about a job at the office, a real job that was actually worthy of my college credentials. I suppose I had complained enough because they did give me a job. It was clear, however, that they meant for this one to be my last. The tactic they decided to use to make sure that it was, was to scare the dumb broad, aka me, into never asking for something ever again. I was too proud to back off of the assignment though. So there I was, sitting on a rocking boat in open water; the fog so thick that I couldn't see anything within a ten foot radius.
The manacles and chains in the cabin rattled from the bobbing and rocking of the boat. I didn't want to sit in there. My PA didn't even want to look at it. She stood at the front of the boat looking out at the white wall of fog, her knees practically knocking together from fear. I sat down on a bench that was nailed to the outside of the cabin. The deck was wet and I didn't want to slip in my heels. That would not make for a good first impression. I already knew I was going to get heckled because I was a woman; didn't need to give them a reason to look down on me more than they already did. But in all honesty, they were in no position to be criticizing anyone.
The doctors on Shutter Island were running amok and someone needed to start telling the truth, the whole truth. The Andrew Laeddis aka Teddy Daniels project had been a failure; no, that wasn't quite right… a bureaucratic nightmare. There was a huge government investment riding on the hopes that the experts on Shutter Island could be successful with this patient of theirs. However, a year and thousands of dollars in government grants later we get a notice down at the governor's office that there was no progress. Ashcliffe Mental Penitentiary looked like a joke. The governor was the one who gave them the money, so he too looked like a joke. Thousands of taxpayer's dollars wasted, a governor's name tarnished. Voters don't forget that sort of thing.
It was now up to my trusty PA and I to get some straight answers for Mr. Thomas back in the governor's office, specifically on where all that grant money was spent. It was my job to assess the practices at Ashcliffe and write up a report that will determine its future… or not-future for that matter. All that would come later though because at the moment, I was on a boat that looked like it was headed for nowhere. I pulled my coat closer around me as I gazed over the railing at the white haze.
AN: Hey guys! It's midterms week and I'm running around like a chicken with my head cut off. So I decided to escape to the land of Shutter Island fanfiction for a while. If you like this story PLEASE tell me. There's nothing more depressing than getting no feedback. Also I have midterms as I said, and if this thing isn't worth my while (aka you not liking it) then I probably won't continue it.