TW: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO THE FOLLOWING: HOMOPHOBIA, ABUSE, RELIGIOUS TRAUMA, CONVERSION THERAPY OR TRAUMA, MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE.
"One reason why homosexuals are so rarely cured is that they rarely try treatment. Too many of them actually believe that they are happy and satisfied the way they are."
Eve nodded her head, sat in a seat opposite the therapist she was allocated. She was tired, dead behind the eyes as she listened to this man drone on and on about the benefits of what she was beginning to go through. She had only been there for a couple of days, hoping to god that Steve would find her soon enough and save her. Max must be worried sick, wondering why she never called, she could only hope the Steve had talked to her, but even that wasn't certain.
"My job here today and over the upcoming weeks is to help you flee from sexual immorality, do you understand what I mean by that?"
Eve nodded her head again - she didn't, nor did she care to, she just wanted this to be over. It was like she was in a mental hospital. She'd wake up, be in a secluded room for a while, before being brought to a recreational room. you were only allowed to talk to the opposite gender, and even then no one wanted to talk. Why would you? No one was here from their own choice, this place had trauma written all over it.
"So, to begin this process, we must go over what led you to come here in the first place," he tells her. She stays quiet, looking down at her hands. "Evangeline?" She stays quiet once more.
"You have a beautiful name," Her therapist continues, noticing she was not about to talk, "It comes from the Latin word evangelism, meaning gospel. It also means good."
Eve keeps her eyes trained on her hands.
"So Evangeline, if you would like to live up to your name, I suggest you start talking." He says. His tone is no longer kind like it once was, there was a roughness to it, clearly trying to threaten the teen, and it was working. God knows what kind of other practices they have going on in this place.
"My parents forced me to come here," She tells him quietly, her head still facing the ground, "They believe that this is the best place to, um, fix me."
"Do you agree with them?"
She closes her eyes for a second, holding back any tears that decided to try and surface. She knew this whole experience was bullshit, she didn't know how long she would be here for. Surely the sooner she agreed and the quicker she was 'cured,' the sooner she'd be out.
"I do."
"Good girl," his tone made a shiver go uncomfortably down her spine. "It's a promising start that you have the courage to confront your struggles with desire."
Eve just stayed silent, a singular tear falling from her cheek.
-
Ninety seven, ninety eight, ninety nine...
The door opened, like clockwork.
Eve had now been there coming up to two months. She wasn't doing well - she never felt well enough to eat, losing an appetite every time something was placed in front of her. She'd given up hope on Steve, he wasn't coming.
She stayed with her back facing the door, lying on her bed with her eyes closed as a figure hovered over her, shaking her awake. She grumbled, pretending to just wake up from her 'afternoon nap' to be faced with her therapist, he smiled down at her.
This time however, there was two security guards behind him who stepped forward, grabbing her arms and forcing her to stand up. She stayed completely silent, knowing fighting got you nowhere and was pulled out of the room, her therapist close behind.
They walked down corridor after corridor, the setup reminding the girl of the lab - if she survived that mess, she could survive this one too. So far in her stay she had just had a therapy appointment once a day, it wasn't fun, but it was bearable, she just allowed the therapist to believe he was healing her and would move on.
She was taken into a room, there was a desk with a large mirror next to it, covering the wall opposite to the door. She watched her therapist take a seat as another male doctor got out some form of contraption.
"What is that?" She asked, her heart pounding as she looked at whatever the hell it was she was being pushed towards.
"It's nothing to be afraid of, Evangeline." Her therapist spoke calmly, looking at some papers that had been left no the desk, not even batting an eye her way.
"No!" She yelled as she was manhandled into the seat, locks covering both of her wrists and stopping her from getting out, "Stop! What the fuck are you doing!" She continued to thrash as locks were put on her ankles too, tears were streaming at this point.
Wires were then hooked up to her head, making her heart beat quicken even more, it practically pumping out of her chest at this point. She was unaware of the group of doctors on the other side of the wall who were monitoring her closely.
"Evangeline," her therapist snapped, "Calm down so we can begin, you'll be out of this room before you know it."
Eve looked at him like he was crazy, her eyes connecting to his emotionless ones. The other doctor and the two guards left the room, leaving them on their own.
"What is going on?" She asks him quietly, trying her best to appear calm in hopes he can get on with whatever he was planning on doing.
"I am going to show you a series of photos, and you are going to tell me the emotion that pops up first, understand?" he asked her, she stared at him for a second before nodding her head slowly.
"Okay," he smiled and slid a photo towards her, it was a picture of a puppy.
Her eyebrows twisted in confusion, what the fuck was going on?
"Happy," She said quickly and he nodded, taking the picture away.
The next picture was on a beach.
"Calm," She shrugs, she'd never been to the beach herself.
The next picture was of herself.
"neutral, that's me," she shrugs again.
The next picture was of Steve Harrington.
"How do you have this?" she whispered.
"Unimportant, how are you feeling?"
"Sad," she whispered again, looking at the picture, it was one that was put on display in their living room back at their parents house, it was him in his senior year - he'd stolen her hairspray that morning to make sure he looked good.
The picture was taken away.
"You're doing good, Evangeline," The therapist told her with a smile, "It's going to get a little bit more difficult now." she nodded her head.
She was shown a picture of a random boy she didn't know and her eyebrows furrowed.
"Um... confused," She says to him, "I don't know who he is."
"Then lets change up the game a little. Say the first word that comes to mind when I show you the photos." she nods her head at his words, looking back down at the photos.
"Ears," She says, "His stick out."
The photo is taken away.
A photo of a random girl - she was pretty. She looked up at her therapist for a second, wondering what his game was, before looking back down at it.
"Her nose is too big."
The photo was taken away.
Then, a photo of Maxine Mayfield was placed down.
Eve stayed silent for a second as she looked at the girl, her heart stopping completely as she saw her face for the first time in two months. She missed her terribly, and couldn't wait to get out of this place.
She let out a scream as a shock was placed through her body, her whole body jumping at the feeling as her eyes closed before opening them quickly to look at her therapist, "What the fuck!"
"What do you see?"
"What the fuck did you do to me!" She screams at him again, moving around and trying to force her arms out of the contraption she was in.
"What do you see?"
"Fuck you!" She yelled, letting out another scream as a shock went through her again, "What the fuck is wrong with you!"
"You want another?" he asked, watching her breathing get faster and faster as she shook her head.
"Obviously fucking not!"
"Then what do you see?"
"Red fucking hair." she gritted out, refusing to look down at the photo as her breathing stayed laboured.
The photo was taken away.
"Interesting."
-
Another month had passed, and Eve was on the verge of breaking, every other day she went through shock therapy, every day she had normal therapy, and every day she felt less and less like a human being.
She had been through both types of therapy today, figuring out that to avoid being shocked she had to compliment pictures of boys, and feel indifferent to pictures of girls, she couldn't answer quickly because she would be shocked, she couldn't take too long because she would be shocked.
She was lying in her bed that night, facing the wall like normal, body tucked into herself when the door opened, allowing the light from the hallway to enter the room. She didn't move, assuming it was somebody on patrol checking she was asleep.
She was wrong.
She was yanked out of her bed with no warning by two guards making her let out a loud scream at the sudden hostility, and was pulled down the hallway, her legs barely touching the ground and she was harshly pulled. She was screaming, having no idea what the fuck was going on as they led her further and further down the corridor. No one was around, no one was coming to help, but she continued to scream in a last attempt.
She was thrown into a room, the door locked behind her as she banged on it, screaming for someone, anyone, to let her out.
"Evangeline."
Her therapist.
"What the fuck!" She screamed, turning towards him, he was right behind her, she pushed on his chest, making him take a step back, "What the fuck is wrong with you!"
"Evangeline, calm down," He grabbed her hands, but she continued to flail, her tears running freely as she fought on his grip, "Evangeline." His voice was stern, but not loud.
"What the fuck!" She continued to yell, still fighting, before her hands were roughly pushed above her head, against the door.
"Evangeline!" His voice boomed, his patience gone. She shut up instantly, her body tense as it halted its movements.
His face was close to hers, "Calm down."
She stayed silent, the only noise the the room, being her rugged breathing.
"Good girl."
A shiver went down her spine.
"You have begun the last part of your treatment here," He told her, and for some reason, no emotion came to her head. She wanted to get out of here, sure, but that feeling of happiness was counteracted with dread. Something even worse than what had already happened was bound to happen.
"To ensure you have completely been cured mentally, we must ensure that you have been cured... sexually."
Her heart dropped.
"No..." She whispered as her eyes left his.
The room was blank, only a light above their heads, and a bed in the centre of the room.
"No!" She yelled again, finding the strength to push him off and turn to the door, screaming her heart out for someone to get her out of there.
But no one came.
Her head was pressed against the door, a hand holding it here, as her other hands were held behind her back. It was as if she'd been caught by the police and forced against a wall and she hated it.
"Please... Please... I'm fifteen, this is not okay." she told him, "I've never done anything like that! Please."
"Evangeline."
"This is against the law. I will have my parents sue! Do you know who they are! They would have your pathetic excuse of a body thrown in a fucking ditch, you hear me!" She screamed at him, "Do you fucking hear me!"
"Your parents signed a form. That form explains our practices. They consented on your behalf."
"That's bullshit! That's fucking bullshit!" she screamed trying to fight him off but it was no use, "Get off of me! I'm cured! I'm cured! You don't have to do this!"
But he didn't.
And that caused Evangeline Harrington to break.