(18+)
For the past six years, 22-year-old Benedict Ash has barely existed inside the walls of Shady Oaks Psychiatric facility, wasting away beneath the fluorescent lights and relishing in the destruction she deserves.
But when she's presented with a...
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I don't really want to go tonight—that's something I know for a fact. I only agreed because I want to seem like I'm getting better, so Edmund doesn't remove me from the program. Plus, Alistair's playful taunting was hardly something I could resist. Though, I was disappointed when he mentioned Eric, specifically, as an option for me. But why should I be? Snapping myself out of my trance, I shake my head. He's my boss.
He's only being so kind because I'm from the loony bin. He only wants the good P. R. Or, maybe, he wants me to trust him, so he can finally have his way with me. It's not like I'm a prize; but it wouldn't be hard. Once you've been used enough, you stop resisting and just let it happen. Maybe one of these days someone will do the merciful thing and kill me after.
It's now that I realize I'm doing it again—letting the dark cloud take me over. If I'm going to get out of Shady Oaks, I have to be positive. I have to believe no one will ever hurt me like that again, that I'll be free of that place and live a happy, joyful life on the outside.
"My car is over here," Eric's voice damn near makes me come out of my skin, startling me again when he doesn't announce himself.
His sheepish look tells me he noticed my jumpstart and I try to contain the instinctual glare that rises to the surface. He was so...excited when I called his desk earlier and told him I'd be joining them after all. He was a little too excited, honestly, and suspicion runs down my spine at being alone with him in a car.
But, just as paranoia tries to hook its claws into me, Priya appears out of nowhere, chittering happily about being done for the day.
"My eyes were crossing with how many words I've read today—!" She bounds for Eric's car, easily latching onto my hand as she tugs me toward it. I have no choice but to stumble along behind her, pulled by her surprisingly strong grip. "You can sit in the back with me and Emma," She winks. "We can girl talk."
Girl talk. Great.
It's mere minutes before Anderson and Emma are leaving the building together, obviously bickering by the consistent moving of their lips and vehement hand-motions.
"Ugh, men are pigs," She announces when she squeezes next to Priya, the smaller woman now sandwiched between her and I.
"How am I a pig? All I did was ask you—"
"Don't even say it!"
Her refusal is overdramatic, to say the least, but I think that's how she intends it as a smile creeps along her mouth. "You'll be dead to me, Anderson Grant, if you speak of it again!"
"Oh yeah? My life would be much easier if I didn't have your yapping in my ear all the time."
She gasps, and they launch into another discourse. Priya begins taking pictures of herself on the phone, trying to get me in a few. I duck out of the frame every time, afraid she'll post them online and my family will find out what I've been up to.
