❝I hurt people;
especially pretty girls like you ❞
In which an innocent but broken girl foxtrots with insanity.
And the music only stops when a demented man says so.
➳
Criminal psychology student...
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A faint but pungent scent of chemicals entered her nostrils, similar to that of bleach or antiseptic.
Her eyelids slowly pried themselves open, still heavy, slipping in and out of perception. But bit by bit as her vision came to be, the sight of a bright white ceiling soon became apparent to her. Suddenly, she was hyper-aware of every little sound in her surroundings; footsteps, metallic clinks, chattering and a soft but unceasing beep ringing right beside her.
She craned her neck to the side, wincing at how strenuous the movement felt, perplexed as she saw a monitor in the periphery- the source of the regulated beeps. Just beyond it, a mint colored curtain that kept her seperated from the rest of the space.
And it was just like that, that Tahlia knew she was in a hospital.
She tried to shift her chest to draw her body up, but she found herself restricted by something.
As soon as she glanced down her torso, her breath caught in her throat.
There were thin little translucent tubes stuck onto her arms. It wasn't the presence of the ducts itself that sent the first wave of chilling fear into her brain, but the realisation that those tubes were connected to her skin with the help of a fine needle.
Small droplets of sweat instantly collected on her forehead as an overwhelming feeling of nausea took over her body, arms slightly trembling as she gazed at the needle.
Suddenly, she wasn't in the hospital anymore.
She was back in the little house on 7 Dufresne Street. She was back in front of the mirror, watching her mother brush her frizzy but long locks vainly.
Then she was in her room, playing patty cake with her little sister, nectarine giggles going off in the air.
Then she was hiding behind the staircase with Emilia, both wide-eyed, as they watched their mother with a strange man. The stranger was inhaling lines of a white powder from the kitchen table, while her mother injected something into her arm.
And finally, she was back to that night. She was gazing down at Emilia who wouldn't move or open her bright blue eyes, her angelic blonde hair stained red with the blood trickling out of her ears.
A flash of her mother lying unmoving on the floor with a syringe on her arm clouded her eyes for a millisecond, before suddenly it all stopped.
Tahlia stared at the little needle unfeelingly, lying still in the bed, as fright slowly but rapidly built up in her veins.
