The Shrink Program

Chapter 160

My return to consciousness was like a slow crawl through frozen thorns.

Minus the poetry, it hurt a great deal and immediately had me regretting every one of my life decisions.

This is even worse than that time I picked a fight with my dentist...

The moment I could focus beyond the pain, I sent an inquiry as to why my brain and lungs had chosen this moment to compete for the title of the most agonising organ in my body.

In reply, came the image of claws and blood.

Memories rushed back to me, sharp and cringe-worthy.

Jack had...

I pushed back the hysterical thoughts, suppressed the memories, not anywhere near ready to deal with what had happened.

What Jack had done to me.

Unfortunately, the closer I got to being awake, the more I realised, that was the least of my problems.

Because I could hear a violin. The sound I had come to associate with being screwed.

The music was soft, melancholy vibrating through the strings with each slow note.

It was beautiful, as Jack's playing always was, but I was having a hard time appreciating it right now... What with the way my head was threatening to split open.

The urge to curl up in a shaking ball of misery and pain struck me hard. A single despairing thought racing through my mind.

I can't do this-

I crushed the doubt, along with the small whimper threatening to escape my lips.

Even in my pain hazed state, I knew better than to alert Jack to the fact that he had an audience...it would be really dumb...but if I don't move, that pretty much leaves me stuck here...listening to his music for the rest of eternity...

It was a tough call.

Torture... or boredom.

On the one hand, stalling until help arrives will probably save me a lot of pain in the end...on the other...

Playing possum is for chickens.

I sighed, coming to the only reasonable conclusion.

Nobody calls me a chicken.

Especially not my own head.

I can do this.

I'm gonna stand up, scowl meaningfully, and kick psycho bird ass...

A sharp jab from my insides swiftly had me revaluating my plan of attack.

Yep. As soon as the urge to vomit blood dies down to only a mild urge, I'll be all over that.

...Meanwhile, let's suss out the situation like the calm, collected and probably concussed war hero ninja God I am.

Laying down.

Knowing that I was instantly going to regret this, I cracked an eyelid open.

Welp, not only was there light, which sent it's courtesy searing pain into my already tender brain thank you, but it was flickering.

Hello seizure, here I come.

Squinting against the light, I made out the shape of steel bars above me, bent in the shape of a dome. The bird swing hanging from said ceiling confirmed my fears.