The sound of a lock giving way sounded through the room, and the door swung open to reveal a man with chestnut hair and dark eyes, clearly a doctor judging on his uniform.
Alice sat up so fast her shackles caught on the frame. She fell back against the bed frame with a grunt of pain and stared at the doctor, too numb to react to his entering.
In the hallway, Isobel flinched when a scream shattered against her eardrums—but she kept going, not letting it stop her.
The doctor came forth with a small flashlight and began shining it in her eyes to watch how her pupils reacted.
Alice kept still, defiantly staring down the tiny, helpless flashlight. She was like that flashlight, in a way: used, controlled, constantly condemned and condemning.
"Why am I here?" she asked the flashlight.
The doctor went still, staring at her with an almost owlish expression. “Are you seriously asking me that question?”
Alice's eyes narrowed: she hadn't been talking to him. But she went on anyway.
"There are many reasons I could be here. What's the main one?"
(What sounds good?
I’m sorry about maths, but glad you’ve got your sleepover )
Alice's eyes narrowed: she hadn't been talking to him. But she went on anyway.
"There are many reasons I could be here. What's the main one?"
(
The man sighed deeply through his nose and began reciting in a calm voice. “You escaped from another mental hospital. Everything you did to get in there in the first place. You attacked a young woman and her stepmother at a funeral.”
Alice went completely still, feeling panic progressively rising up in her stomach. "You're going to institutionalize me again," she remarked in a falsely quiet voice.
“Yes,” he said flatly, making down something on his clipboard.
Alice went quiet again, staring it his clipboard. "Where's Isobel"?
“One of the women you attacked? You don’t have the right to know that,” he said calmly.
"She's my friend," Alice spat. She could feel her mind tensing.
The man, who’s name card read ‘Dr. George White’, made no comment, only turned around and opened a medical kit.
Alice pressed herself into the wall, breath hitching. "What's that for?" she managed through gritted teeth.
“You,” he replied simply, withdrawing a syringe.
Straining against the restraints, Alice's breath was knocked out of her. A sharp wave of fear crashed over her and she curled up in the bed. Breathing shallow, she asked, "What is it?"
"Deep breaths," the doctor counselled, filling the object with some clear liquid before approaching her bedside again. "Don't struggle. Relax."
"No," Alice managed on an inhale. "No, please, you don't know what it'll do to him." Blurred pictures, feelings, swarming around her, pushing and pulling her downward towards the memories, further and further. She shut her eyes and rolled onto her side, feeling her tied-down wrist stretched to breaking point. She welcomed the pain, swallowed it whole, let it clear her mind and chase away the memories of pain begging to be let in.
Calmly, as if devoid of emotion, the doctor placed one hand on her raised shoulder and pushed it down, successfully pinning his patient down to the bed. "Breathe…" he instructed slowly, finding a vein in her neck and sinking the tip of the syringe in.
Alice bit back a scream. Heat spread through her veins, a comforting heat. Fighting it back, Alice tried to sit up and stay attentive: she needed to find a way out and every second could be a help.
The warmth was blurring her senses, softening the few colours around her. "What's in the syringe?" she asked lazily, head flopping to the side.
“Just sleep, Alice,” the doctor told her, the order softened ever so slightly by the hand he lay on her forehead.
Alice nodded into his hand. "Sounds like fun," she lied in purposely speech slurred. She turned onto her side, struggling to keep her eyes open. If she slept, they could whatever they wanted. She pinched herself until she drew blood, over and over, hoping the pain would wake her.
George held his fingers against the side of her neck, measuring her pulse, then proceeded to sink the syringe into her vein once more, giving her another large dose.
The warmth increased to heat, burning through Alice's veins. She trembled under the doctor's hold, letting out a pathetic whimper. The heat hurt, hurt all over.
"I don't like you," she whispered, collapsing in on herself.
Her head lolled over the side of the cot and her eyes shut.
George, satisfied with his work, tossed the syringe into a small trash can and inspected the unconscious woman. She didn't seem to be faking, but then again, after a dose like that, it was impossible that she would have been able to. Finally, he checked that she was tightly bound down and left the room, lock clicking ominously shut behind him.
(what're we doing with Isobel and the stepmother?)
(Isobel is highkey avoiding her)
(Hmm. What now then?)
(uhh great question
maybe…. what if Isobel started 'seeing' her dad?)
