Chapter 273: Possessive need
Abby found herself standing in a dimly lit corridor, the air thick with a sterile, antiseptic scent that clung to her nostrils. She wore a thin, white gown that rustled with every hesitant step she took. The walls around her were cold, bare, and a stark, institutional gray. Fluorescent lights flickered intermittently, casting eerie shadows that danced along the corridor, making her heart race with each flicker.
"Hello?" Her voice echoed down the empty hallway, sounding small and fragile. There was no response, only the distant hum of machinery and the occasional distant scream that made her skin crawl.
Her confusion mounted as she wandered aimlessly. She had no memory of how she had arrived in this place. A sense of panic began to set in, gnawing at the edges of her sanity. She was not crazy; she was sure of it. But this place, with its oppressive atmosphere and the unmistakable aura of despair, was designed to make her doubt herself.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps approached. Two burly orderlies appeared, their expressions devoid of emotion. They seized her arms with iron grips, dragging her toward a room at the end of the corridor.
"Let me go! I don’t belong here!" Abby screamed, struggling against their hold. Her pleas fell on deaf ears as they restrained her and forced her onto a narrow, hard bed in a small, windowless room.
The door slammed shut behind them, and she was left alone, her breaths coming in ragged gasps. The room was barren, save for the bed and a small, metal chair. The walls were padded, designed to prevent any attempt at self-harm. Abby’s mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. She knew she wasn’t insane, but everything around her screamed otherwise.
Hours passed, or maybe it was days—time had lost its meaning in this claustrophobic cell. Each time the door opened, she hoped it was someone coming to rescue her, but it was always the same: a nurse with a tray of medications, urging her to take pills she didn’t need.
"Please, I’m not crazy," Abby pleaded, her voice cracking with desperation. "I don’t need those."
The nurse’s face was a mask of indifference. "These will help you, Abby. Just take them."
Reluctantly, she complied, swallowing the bitter pills that only served to deepen her sense of helplessness. She felt her grip on reality slipping, her thoughts becoming fragmented and incoherent.
One night, the door creaked open, and her heart leaped with hope. Her father stood there, his face lined with worry and sadness. Abby’s eyes filled with tears as she reached out to him.
"Daddy, please, you have to get me out of here. I’m not crazy. I swear."