5836

Stupid me.

The excitement of my dream clouded the rationality of my thievery schemes. Fashioning a lock pick out of two papers clips is not as easy as the internet made it seem (nor as glamorous as the movies made it seem). I spent the better part of two hours jiggling and raking those damn wires to no avail. The optimist in me begs to look at this as a small obstacle and persuaded my little pessimist into going online and buying one of a lock picking kit. Two weeks for shipping; whatever is in that drawer better be worth the wait.

Giving up on the lock, I decided to revisit the other filing cabinets. In the bottom drawer of the dusty green cabinet my eyes caught sight of a folder different from the rest. Big and marbled-orange in color, the folder, labeled Byberry, jutted out above a sea of manila. I knew that Corrigan had worked there in the early 80’s many years before it was shut down. In all honesty, I was surprised he kept the files after all these years. I pulled it from its home and out fell several newspaper clippings, a couple pages from an old patient of his named, Alyssa, and a scrap of paper with the number, “5836,” written on it. I took the most interesting clippings and a few dreams of the little girl and stuffed them into my journal.

Why would he keep these? Who is Alyssa? What is 5836?