Dead. Corpses, the rotten smell of something wilting away like a decaying flower.
Horror. The feeling that encrypts every cell in my body.
I swallow down the dread in me, ignoring the memories and years of pain.
I offer a feeble smile to the psychologist as she passes the medication to the guard, the sound of the pills colliding with each other reverberating in the hallway as the door slowly shuts with a low thump behind me. The guard’s size is immense and daunting, with muscles that move beneath his skin like they could easily take me down if I dared to disobey. His eyes lock with mine, and he motions for me to keep walking down the corridor. With each step I take, I feel his eyes on me, the weight of his stare like a physical force pushing down my shoulders. The dreaded lunch hour is here when I must bravely enter the cafeteria full of strangers who may or may not be psychopathic.
As we stroll, I perceive the judgment and hostility emanating from the other patients, almost as if their glares are poisonous and full of toxicity. I know what they see–my long, brown hair with blue tips, losing vibrancy, and my unkempt strands. My clothes drape off my body in a disheveled way, giving the impression that I’m homeless. Compared to the unbearably heavy and itchy nineteenth-century dresses I had to wear at Grimhill, these clothes are light, breathable, and I don’t have to tug and adjust them constantly. My eyes feel hollow and black, my soul devoid of any life, and I feel the coldness of the floor beneath my feet.
The other patients must think I’m the psychopath; little do they know, they are right.
The throbbing sensation in my foot makes it difficult to ignore the pain as we walk toward the cafeteria, with me limping. The room is as crowded and noisy as ever, with patients conversing among themselves, but I pay no attention to the chatter as I approach the old woman wearing an apron to get my food. I feel the guard’s hot breath on the back of my neck, and with no room to move, I am powerless as he stuffs my food with two pills, crushing them with his large, calloused hands. Disgusting. With his goal in mind, he strides off to the wall and then sets to watch me vigilantly.
I look around the room and notice Rebecca isn’t there; the silence is deafening, and a lump forms in my throat at the thought of days without her presence or comforting words. I would have liked to sit with her rather than alone. I’m about to locate an unoccupied table when I feel a hand wrap around my arm, and I’m filled with Aubrey’s signature scent. The scent is difficult to describe but undeniably pleasant, like shampoo mixed with a subtle hint of fruit.
“Naya! Come sit with us,” Aubrey beckons, their warm tones enveloping me like a comforting hug and making my apprehension fade away.
“Really? I didn’t know if you wanted to sit with me anymore…” I trail off as they abrupt me.
“Don’t be silly!”
Sitting at their usual table are three other people I’m familiar with, and I take the empty chair next to Aubrey. I feel the heat ofhisgaze before I see it, the way it penetrates me and seems to reach into the depths of my soul, stirring a desire that reaches deep into my core. My heart reaches out for him and my soul yearns for his touch; why isn’t he with me?
I feel completely exhausted, and my mind is full of strange, nonsensical thoughts. Grey and I could never work, so I need to let him go. Aubrey goes on, and my heart thunders out the sound of their voice as they introduce me to their partner and friends. Properly this time.
“This is Calvin. He may seem like a tough guy, but is actually really soft once you get to know him.”
They point to the blond guy next to me, the one I’ve seen kiss Aubrey several times in the corridor. His hair flows down to his ears, and he opts for a smart look with khaki pants and a matching polo shirt.
“This is Jaqueline. There is no doubt that she is a bitchy piece of work, but she’s still family, so I love her anyway.”
Jaqueline gives me a smirk as if pleased to be described as the bitch of the group, and I observe how her nordic blue eyes stare at Grey while he stares at me. It’s a moment I have experienced before, the one time Rebecca and I were sitting in the activity room watching TV, and he watched me while ignoring Jaqueline’s intimate touch. I still remember how he looked at me with heated eyes, making me feel wet and flustered, as if he was undressing me with his bare eyes. When Jaqueline touched him, I couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy, but the look on his face made it evident that he wished she wasn’t there. I am unsure why I felt such a pang of jealousy, even though he isn’t mine to claim. His presence pulls at my heartstrings, and my gaze instinctively searches for him whenever I enter a room. It’s pathetic.
“And you have already met Grey, I suppose.” Aubrey continues their representation as if they are oblivious to the tension between Grey, Jaqueline, and me.
I startle in shock when I feel a sudden tap on my shoulder, and everyone around the table turns to look at the guard standing behind me, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his expressionless face.
“Eat. I don’t have all day.”
Aubrey’s body contorts in their chair, their discomfort with the guards looming overhead palpable, and a shiver runs down my back as my throat constricts. As the guard moves away from the area, all eyes fix on me.
“What was that about?” Calvin’s voice is gentle and far softer than I anticipated, leaving a pleasant effect on my ears.
I take a deep breath before responding hesitantly, my uncertainty evident in my tone. “I-I’m not entirely sure.”
As I press my fingers against my temples, attempting to halt the migraine attack threatening to take over, memories from a while ago appear in my mind.
“No, she doesn’t remember.” “Good, keep making sure she eats her food.”
Did they... did they do anything with my food?
“What is it?”
The voice reverberates around me, breaking through the stillness and startling me out of my reverie. A soothing voice from an unexpected source breaks through my migraine, and the demons threaten to pull me down, if only for a split second.
Grey’s eyes look at me with a level of sincerity that is so intense that they seem like precious gems, radiating a flash of brilliance and clarity I’ve never seen before. I am completely stunned, my body motionless and my mouth unable to utter any words. All four of them are looking at me, but it’s his gaze that I feel like I cannot turn away from, as if he’s luring me in with some unseen force. His gaze is so intense that it almost pierces my skin, and I’m filled with a confusing mix of emotions I’ve never experienced before, unable to explain them by simply feeling out of my element under a man’s attention. Grey is like an idiot’s drug, maddening me with its tantalizing and dazzling effects until I lose track of what’s happening around me. I’m overcome with fear and quickly avert my gaze from his, locking it on Aubrey’s instead.
“The guard is still staring at you, observing.”
