For Silent Hill Fans / Monday, November 27, 2006
I, too, assumed Brookhaven was only a hospital for the mentally unstable. Its appearance suggests this—from the padded cells to the secured hallways, to the memorable patients—but something suggests otherwise: the first floor. There’s nothing particularly unsettling about the C-hallway: they’re all normal-sized rooms, with normal beds and normal doors, leading me to believe that the first floor does not cater to the extremely disturbed patients, but more so for general treatment—which the hospital was originally built for (the photo in the Historical Society: “... built in response to a great plague that followed a wave of immigration to this area.”)
Brookhaven Hospital’s security systems are only employed on the second and third floors. To gain access to either main hallway, one must enter a four-digit numbered code, each of which are changed regularly to ensure safety. The three extreme patients encountered in the game—Joseph Barkin, Jack Davis, Joshua Lewis—are only mentioned on the second and third floors: no trace of them or their behavior—their writing, scribbling, or messages—can be found in the C-hallway, suggesting that these three cases, each noted as being violent, are to be kept away from others. Even in Silent Hill 3, patients Leonard Wolfe and Stanley Coleman—both of whom are described as being “violent” (“... becomes very violent when overexcited” and “This has caused violent incidents; use caution”—are roomed in the S-hallway—the third floor. The first floor, however, is entirely different: There’s a garden open to its residents, and even a pool. The rooms are larger in size, and there’s no security code required to enter the C-hallway: It’s a much safer area than the top two floors.
Why, then, would Mary, terminally ill, be sent to a hospital used predominantly for mental health?, rather than somewhere like Alchemella, an all-round general hospital?
Because Mary was mentally ill: She suffered severe depression and wished to die—a very common reason for treatment at such a hospital.
Let’s look at things Mary says, in person & her letters:
- I’m pathetic, weak. Not everyone can be strong.
- I don’t want to cause any more trouble for anyone, but I’m a bother either way. Can it really be such a sin to run instead of fight? ... It may be selfish, but it’s what I want.
- I’m no use to anyone.
- I’ll be dead soon anyway.
- It’d be easier if they’d just kill me.
From the NMHA (the National Mental Health Association), characteristics & signs of a person contemplating suicide are as follows:
- Verbal suicide threats such as, “You’d be better off without me.” or “Maybe I won’t be around.”
- Expressions of hopelessness and helplessness.
- Previous suicide attempts.
- Daring or risk-taking behavior.
- Personality changes.
- Depression.
- Giving away prized possessions.
- Lack of interest in future plans.
In those five statements alone, she makes verbal threats, expresses hopelessness, an extreme change in personality, indicates depression, and has no interest in her future—or even the remote chance of recovering. And that’s even with Laura acting as a salubrious friend that has been suggested to have helped Mary with her illness.
Mary wasn’t always hospitalized at Brookhaven. In actuality, she was there very briefly—one week at the most. For the majority of the time she was ill, she was at another hospital entirely: St. Jerome’s of Ashfield.
Given that James’ father, Frank, owned & operated the South Ashfield Heights Apartments, only a few blocks from St. Jerome’s, it’s safe to assume that the couple lived here in town, near his father & father-in-law. Also of importance is that Mary’s nurse, Rachael/Rachel (hereon referred to simply as Rachel), was employed at St. Jerome’s and lived in the apartments Frank Sunderland owned.
During James & Mary’s trip to Silent Hill, when the videotape at Lakeview Hotel was shot, Mary’s inchoate disease began to develop. After it had progressed further along, it’s evident Mary was hospitalized at St. Jerome’s for treatment. After being diagnosed, her doctor explained to James that the illness was terminal: When asked, How long does she have?, the doctor responds, “Three years at most... Perhaps six months... It’s impossible to say with certainty.”
It’s here that Mary spent an indeterminate amount of time, hospitalized, away from her husband & and cut off from her own life. Two years pass—one year before the events of Silent Hill 2—since her illness is first apparent, and Mary meets and befriends a seven-year-old orphan: Laura. (“I met Mary at the hospital. It was last year.”)
As the illness exacerbated, her mental health declined as well: she slid further into lethargy & depression and began to believe death to be more propitious to herself and James (“The thing I'm weak to is reality. It's not like just anyone can live strongly.” “It may be selfish but I'd be happy with that.”).
The doctors know that Mary wanted nothing more than to see Silent Hill again, despite James’ absence. The memory of James bringing Mary flowers is, so I believe, one of—if not the—final time James visits Mary at St. Jerome’s—it may even be because of this conversation that the following occurred, but I do believe that this is one of the last times James sees his wife alive.
It became apparent that both Mary’s physical and mental condition was worsening: her illness wasn’t getting any better, and she “struck out at everyone.” The doctors felt that the best thing for her was to grant her wish, and, more importantly, attempt to alleviate her depression—at the very least allow her a modicum of happiness before she passes away. They decide to do both: They transfer her to Brookhaven Hospital. Before she leaves though, she writes a letter to Laura:
When you get this letter I've left to Rachel, I won't be in this hospital anymore. I've gone to a very far and quiet place so I'm sorry that I left without saying anything. I can't come back now but Laura, be happy (take care of yourself). Don't trouble the sisters so much.
Also, you may have hated James and did not go to meet him, he may be brusque (blunt), doesn't smile a lot and a bit short-tempered of a person but really, he's very kind so if anything happens, please help James.
Laura, I loved you like a daughter. If my sickness was curable I felt I would make you into my real daughter.
To Laura's 8th birthday. Mary.
There are four important parts in this letter: “...I won't be in this hospital anymore,” “I’ve gone to a very far and quiet place...”, “I’m sorry that I left without saying anything,” and, of course, “Happy 8th birthday.”
The line last, preceding what we learn from Laura—that she “turned eight last week”—proves that Mary did not, in fact, die three years ago, but was still alive as recent as seven days ago. In conjunction with the first part of the letter—“I’m far away now”—Mary wasn’t telling Laura that she was dead, rather she was going to that “very far and quiet (beautiful) place” she talked about all the time: Silent Hill. This wasn’t a messaged used to confuse a child in reference to Heaven or an Afterlife, it’s just a message, I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye, but I’m okay now, where I wanted to be. This is why Laura comes looking for Mary in Silent Hill: she, too, believes she’s alive—and knows that this is where Mary wanted to be more than anything.
Laura: You’re here to find Mary, aren’t you, James? Well… have you?
James: No… Is that why you’re here too?
Laura: She’s here, isn’t she? If you know where she is, tell me! I’m tired of walking.
James: I wish I knew…
Laura: But she said it in her letter…
When Mary was transferred to Brookhaven, she’s, unfortunately, without the familiar faces of St. Jerome’s. So I believe she brought along some things to keep her occupied: teddy bears, the one’s that Laura would always play with, the one’s that Laura loved—and may well have given to Mary; and a diary. It is here that, without the presence of either James or Laura, she begins writing in it, as a way to pass her time—what little of it she has left—, and to document her emotions and her final days.
In this diary, leading up to the days before her death, Mary hasn’t come to grips with her impending death. She apologizes for it, goes so far as to blame herself, but still states she’d rather die now than wait. Yet she’s unable to kill herself.
The days pass. The weather doesn’t change. She finally comes to grips with her illness: she knows she’s going to die; it’s inevitable. Mary blames herself for what has happened to her, and for all that she’s done to James. Mary’s told by the doctors that she has to leave: her health is deteriorating fast and she ought to be home with her husband. She writes her final letter to James, telling him that, despite her illness, her disease, her moods, she is “at my last moment,” that she “want(s) to write and put an end to this.” During her last day at Brookhaven, as she’s writing this letter, the sun begins to shine, and she is told she’s “been released - that [she’s] got to go home.” She writes her final diary entry and leaves it there, for whomever to find. She gives the letter she’s written to James to the nurse, to be given to him when she’s released—presumably because she can’t express her feelings to him in-person, precisely why she writes a letter to begin with.
The diary itself mimics, in tone & content, the letter she’s written to James, which chronologically fits considering they were written right after the other. And, in the diary, on May 11th, the day before she’s released, Mary writes: I wonder if the medicine-soaked me is the real me. When she speaks with James for one of the final times, she tells him: Between the disease and the drugs, I look like a monster, and everything she says makes the audience question whether or not this is the actual Mary, or instead what the disease & drugs has made her become. Even James seems to question it.
When James arrives to pick her up, Mary’s nurse gives James the letter and reads the first page. Whether he takes her home or to an unknown location is up to the audience—I personally believe he takes her somewhere in Silent Hill we’ve never seen before—but wherever it is, he ultimately kills her. He puts the body in the trunk of his car and leaves the area. On the way out of town, he remembers the letter—as much of it as he had read—and creates his delusion: that Mary died three years ago, and that she’s waiting for him in Silent Hill.
He parks at the Overlook, just outside of town; the road is blocked due to construction, and the place is deathly ill—silent, sorry. The game begins here.
There are several other interesting things to note about Brookhaven Hospital. One is on the map James carries—or what isn’t on the map. Brookhaven, as a building, a little purple dot, is present, just south of Heaven’s Night—also on the map. What’s peculiar is that Brookhaven Hospital isn’t named on the map; there’s nothing to indicate that it’s a hospital. According to this theory, the reason Mary states “We promised to go there someday, the two of us, but because of me, it never came true” is because James didn’t come to Brookhaven with Mary, but instead, Mary came alone—thus: they didn’t go together, so not just “the two of us.” And, if that’s the case, could it be that the reason Brookhaven doesn’t show up on the map is because of James’ memory repression?, and that, to him, it was just another building on a map? Heather carries the same map as James, but to her, Brookhaven Hospital is clearly marked. Why, then, would it not be for James?, and James only?
Laura seems to run in there with a purpose; James merely follows. As it turns out, this hospital has more relevance to James’ journey than he realizes—which goes to show that Laura, despite being a snotty, little brat, has a very distinct purpose as well: to lead James along; a Cheshire Cat, if you will. Without her, James would be just as lost as he was when he first strolled into town.
This also implies that Laura had a specific reason for coming to Brookhaven. Mary told Laura in her letter that I won't be in this hospital anymore, which, to a little girl, especially, would imply I’ll be at another hospital. She checks the first one she comes across, and she happens to be correct. There are several indications, even to Laura, that Mary stayed in, and she strikes gold on the first floor, in room C2: the teddy bears. And, along her way, she happens across a letter from Mary, addressed to James, which proves to Laura that she’s here in town—specifically at Brookhaven.
Another interesting thing to note is Maria’s reaction to the [otherside], specifically on the first floor. On any floor, in every other room, Maria acts normally: a blank stare, straight ahead, or at James. The first floor, however, coming off of the elevator, Maria acts noticeably different. (Keep in mind, too, that you never have to take Maria to the first floor, but if you do, you have the chance to see her act—more importantly: react—in a way you can’t see elsewhere.
With her back to James, her face to the wall, it seems there’s something about the first floor she doesn’t want to see or be reminded of. Being an aspect of Mary, replete with her reticent memories, this is a glimpse into the side of Mary that Maria couldn’t prevent from making itself known—same with her outburst in the basement, and how she feels “like it’s up to me to protect her (Laura).”
If this display meant nothing, that the first floor held no significance to Maria, then it wouldn’t have been available at all; she would’ve acted the same as she does coming off of the elevator on any floor. But it’s only this floor. The floor where Laura stops to play with the bears she happens to love—that even Maria knows she loves—and in that very room, in the [otherside], is the sound of glass-smashing. And, of course, it’s well known that sound plays an important & crucial role in determining past events in Silent Hill, and there just so happens to the sound of something glass crashing against the floor. What’s smashing? Perhaps a vase of flowers given to her by James; a vase that afterwards she smashed, because “I don’t deserve any flowers… I’m disgusting.” This, then, is where I believe spent her remaining days at Brookhaven Hospital: Room C2, on the first floor.
Finally: the [otherside] itself. In Silent Hill 2, the [otherside] appears only twice: at Brookhaven Hospital, and the Lakeview Hotel. Why these two places? Why not Woodside/Blue Creek Apartments? We know that the couple didn’t spend any time at the apartments during their vacation—they stayed together at Lakeview Hotel—and we know that James didn’t stay at Brookhaven Hospital, so why did it change if the [otherside]’s presence is because of him? Simply put: It’s not.
Lakeview Hotel reverts to a reflection of its actual self: a burnt-out husk of a building, similar to Nowhere of the previous Silent Hill. Brookhaven Hospital, however, acts differently, and even the shift between what James was experiencing before the shift is a memory of Mary: She’s carted, from the Examination Room, down the hallway, crying out for James, “praying that you’ll come and meet me… while gazing at the unchanging ceiling.” If this scene occurs for absolutely no reason, then it goes entirely against what everyone has said about Silent Hill 2: That everything has importance, nothing is insignificant. This one thirty-second clip, this glimpse into Mary’s life, suggests that there’s more emphasis in Brookhaven Hospital in relation to Mary than people had originally accredited—and they still don’t.
If Team Silent didn’t want people to believe that Mary spent anytime in Brookhaven Hospital, they wouldn’t have left so many clues suggesting it—whether anyone feels they’re blatant or not. The developers could’ve easily made the hospital just another “spooky area.” They didn’t. They included so many “little things” that amount to an overwhelming “big thing” it’s absurd. Personally, these are all very clear indications that Mary stayed here—there is no doubt in my mind—and to think otherwise cheapens the game & its meanings drastically, which clearly shouldn’t be the case. If that is the case, then things such as Mary’s dress in the apartments, lighting James’ way, the recurring television from room 312, the identical door leading to Angela in the apartments’ bedroom & in the Labyrinth, the dead body in the refrigerator and Eddie dying in a refrigerator—all of these things should be overlooked, ignored, avoided, shrugged-off, passed-over, and regarded as meaningless; as just visual fluff.
That, however, is not what Team Silent wanted. They wanted you to look closer.
/It ends at this point
8:05 PM
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Hangover / Wednesday, November 01, 2006
/It ends at this point
11:17 PM
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