Chapter Text
How could she have been so careless as to end up here? The white walls, white sheets, everything sickeningly white. As if was as easy as adding white to calm the wild minds this building contained. At least she'd been given a window, even if the glass was frosted. She had thought more than once what a sick joke it was to be given sunlight but without the ability to see the colors of the day. Still, it was better than being surrounded by four bleak walls.
They still wouldn't give her writing implements to keep her busy. She'd been given books. Piles of books, all containing pulp. She always left the titles untouched.
The seconds ticked by. Each second longer than the last. How long had she been here? How much longer would she be here? By now she knew the routine, each second was planned out for the occupants here. Some here voluntarily, others not. It did not matter your circumstances, because once you were within this building you were looked upon all the same. If you were here, something was broken.
At first, if she chose to stay in her room they allowed it. Each new occupant needed some time to adjust. Now though, she was forced to participate. Staying in her room was frowned upon. Solitude created depression she was told. Solitude was seen as punishment. Little did they know that being surrounded by others made her feel more alone. She was not as broken. She was merely cracked. They couldn't see that though. They only read her file, and smiled tightly.
In the first few days she had seethed. She'd paced and muttered and stroked her bandaged hand. When they had locked the door behind her on the first day, after her processing, she had been livid. How far had she fallen to be locked up like a common criminal? She had remained silent, but the force of anger that swelled within her raged until she could contain it no longer. She repeatedly smashed the wall with her fist until she put a hole through it. The orderlies had stormed in like soldiers and assaulted her with a poison that caused her eyes to roll back in her head. It took great concentration while she lay in bed, tucked in like a small child, to consider the benefits of such an outburst. Her body was still, her mind was foggy, but she didn't care. She surprised herself that she didn't care at all, and while her hand throbbed and she was sure it was bleeding, she didn't care about that either. When she'd woken up, her hand had been bandaged and the hole had been puttied over. Now her room sported a white patch, like a band-aid, like her bandaged self.