A lot of fuckingno, no, no.
There is still no sign of her.
It’s as if she completely vanished, disappeared into thin air, or went up in smoke, a bit like water that has been in the heat for too long and eventually evaporates until nothing remains. I sometimes think my mind, so desperate for companionship, created her from a strange concoction of loneliness and imagination just to pass the time. To bring my soul peace after years of captivity and hell holes.
The chill intensifies in my room, so much so that I am compelled to put my gray hoodie over my head to stop myself from shaking, and my bare feet touch the ground. The floor cools them, causing a shiver to travel from my legs to my arms. I sprint over to the window, slam it shut, and hear the distinct click of the latch.
The window can only be opened halfway, and the direction of its movement is inwards, not sideways like normal. The first time I opened the window, I almost had a heart attack as I thought the glass would fall on me, but then it stopped halfway open. It probably has something to do with safety precautions.
With the window closed, I run my fingers through my hair, feeling the static as I prepare to head out into the corridors filled with the distant sound of people moving around.
I need to find Rebecca, so I can feel the warmth of her presence and prove to myself I’m not crazy, that I didn’t make her up. Mostly, I need her because I miss her. Her company is reminiscent of Everlee’s, especially with that youthful innocence and sparks in their eyes even when life has thrown itself at them in an attempt to ruin their beings. I admire them both, and maybe that’s why I’m so determined to find Rebecca. I have to convince her to escape with me.
I still don’t know where Everlee is, if she’s still at Grimhill Manor being tortured by Frederick. I hope he isn’t harsh with her because I’m not around. If he hurt her to get back at me, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.
I pass Ray in the hallway, giving him a quick nod before weaving my way through the sea of patients, the crowd gradually becoming sparse as I get closer to wing one. A feeling of discomfort always fills me when I walk toward this wing, and now that feeling has returned. On top of that, I’ve been feeling rather sick these past few days, with a faint ringing in my ears and a spinning sensation making the room blur. My senses widen until my body is at full capacity, listening for the slightest sound to indicate someone is near, but as usual, no one is. People rarely enter this wing. This part of the institute is as impersonal as the rest of the corridors, yet this is where it feels like the walls stare at me, waiting to strike.
As soon as I reach the L-shaped sofa behind the corner, the discomfort disappears, and I feel my body relax before tensing again.
She’s not here, but someone else is.
I swallow a big lump in my throat, but it feels like I’m swallowing a thousand sharp knives cutting me open. Chills skitter across my skin as I scan the person sitting on the couch in his usual three-piece suit.
“Ah, Naya,” Emilio Ricci scowls at me and stands up.
He has finally started calling me by that name. His imposing frame towers over me, making me feel short despite being rather tall. I didn’t expect him to be here, as the people I asked for Rebecca have been other people working here. I’ve been doing my best to keep out of his way, taking alternate routes to avoid him, and I have succeeded pretty well since I no longer have pointless sessions with him. He takes a step closer to me, and I stretch my back, rolling back my shoulders as I hold my chin high, staring him straight into his eyes.
Never show your weaknesses.
While I wait with bated breath for what he will do next, my pounding heart feels as if it’s going to burst out of my chest, and the dizziness only grows. Nothing soothes about his presence, only a radiance that screams danger, and every alarm bell rings in my ears.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss out, scratching my wrist to relieve pressure.
“What do you mean?” he replies with a sickening smile. “I own this place.”
He takes a step closer, and the alarm bells ring louder, screeching in my ears.
I need to fucking run.
Before I can take off, a strong hand clasps around my wrist, halting me in my tracks. I try desperately to free myself from the ironclad grip that cuts off my circulation, yet the hold only intensifies.
“She is gone. Stop searching for her.”
His voice has an unmistakable hardness when he talks to me, and when he lets go of my hand, I feel a wave of urgency to leave the area without a second thought, not even daring to look back.
And then dizziness takes over.
––––––––
RUN, NAYA. YOU HAVE to run.
I am pushing myself to the limit, feeling my legs strain beneath me, the pain becoming almost unbearable, but I continue to run, refusing to give up. I cannot give up. They are coming for me.
“Naya!”
His voice hisses in my ears like a whistle or a screeching kettle, and it hurts. Both in the ears and in the soul. I feel the sharp edges of the small stones underneath my feet as I race across the dirt road, making it more difficult for me to flee. The metallic smell follows me out here as well. Just a little bit closer, and then I will reach the clearing in the forest. If I can reach the clearing, the trees will help hide my fragile body, and I will be able to escape. My breathings are heavy, raspy, and my lungs are protesting. The adrenaline is pumping through my every vein, filling my body with the last ounce of energy. My shirt sticks to my skin, the blood soaking through and wetting my skin. Lucky for me, it’s not my own blood.
“Naya,” the voice hisses again, much closer this time just as I push through a bush, hurting myself in the process.
