I shake my head and glance over at my broken-down little house, its chipped paint and wrecked porch, the opposite to the suburban beauty of the other homes I’m used to.
“No. I’m just here for work experience at Sacred Heights for the next month.”
The man’s expression shifts to something between horror and intrigue, his brows rising. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters, half in admiration, half in disbelief. “You’re brave. I heard messed-up stories about that place growing up.”
I manage a smile, thin and polite. “You grew up here?” I ask, my gaze flicking between them.
He nods. “I did. My mom’s been next door forever.” He looks down at the woman, and she smiles up at him, her expression lit with some secret, shared moment. “We’re just visiting, but we don’t live too far from here,” he explains.
The woman’s gaze swings back to me, bright and inviting, completely changing the subject.
“Hey, why don’t you come out with us tonight? There’s this little bar down the road.” She gestures through the mist where all I can see is a blur of streetlights and a few houses.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I start, caught off guard, still feeling last night all over me. I’m not sure if a night out is what I need—or want.
“Come on,” she insists, her tone persuasive and warm. “It’ll be fun!”
I hesitate, looking at their eager faces before I give in with a small nod. Maybe a few drinks wouldn’t hurt, just enough to get them off my back for now. I don’t have the energy to keep going back and forth.
“Sure,” I say, exhaling slowly.
They exchange a grin, her eyes lighting up. “We’ll knock around seven?” she says, pacing back with him, still holding onto his arm.
“Yeah,” I nod again before observing them walk away, her laughter echoing faintly as they disappear back into the haze.
Finally alone, I slide into my car, letting the quiet settle around me again.
…
As I drive through the iron gates of Sacred Heights, last night clings to me like a deathly shadow I can’t shake. The way I’d scrubbed my skin until it was red raw, desperate to get rid of Billy’s scent, and yet it still seems to be there, haunting thought.
I felt each sleepless hour echo in my bones, the sexual assault playing over and over like a twisted fucking film reel. The way he touched me intimately. His cubby fingers wrapping around my panties as he ripped them off me. How I felt him between my legs.
And I was alone dealing with it all. Only Midnight was there, her warm presence the closest thing to support I could find. But it wasn’t enough—not really. In all honesty, all I wanted was a simple hug, someone to tell me I’ll be okay. But I guess, I need to just realize that this is my life. For now, I’m alone and I have to deal with things like this, alone.
As I pull up to the grim old building, its towering shape barely visible, I cut the engine and let out a slow exhale. I tell myself it’ll be worth it, all this—the fear, the disgust, the exhaustion. It has to be. But I’ve got some things to say to Dr Moss today. No matter where I am in the building, even on the lowest floor, this place needs better security. There’s no room for mistake in a place like this. It’s far too risky for patients and staff.
Gripping my briefcase with determination, I step out of the car, locking it with a firm click. The fog wraps around me, swallowing each step as I cross the gravel, every crunch underfoot sharp against the creepy quiet. Reaching the entrance, I nod to the guard, who waves me through without hesitation.
As I enter the Asylum, closing the heavy door behind me, I’m immediately met by the chaos of frantic shouts and hurried footsteps booming down the hall. Doctors and nurses swarm around a patient, their faces fixed with concentration and caution. My brow furrows, curiosity and unease nudging me forward as I try to make sense of the situation.
“You fucking bastards!” The young woman shouts, hoarse and trembling with anger. “You’ve already taken so much from me, and you still keep me here to do it! I remember everything—you can’t erase any of it!”
The patient is someone I don’t recognize, her face pale with terror. In her grasp, she clutches a metal bar, her knuckles white around it. I don’t fully understand what she means—maybe she’s caught in some kind of delusion. Whatever it is, her pain feels very real.
“You can’t fucking keep me here to play your sick games! I’m not an experiment! I’m a human!”
She swings the metal bar wildly, her fury spiralling out of control, but Dr Moss takes a cautious step forward, speaking gently, his voice low and calm, yet I can’t hear what he said.
The woman’s response is a bloodcurdling scream as she lashes out, nearly catching him with the bar. In an instant, a male doctor slips behind her, wrapping his arms around her tightly, and with the coordinated movements of a team that’s done this before, they restrain her. The struggle only ends as they give her a sedative and her cries slowly fade into silence as her body finally goes limp.
I stand at a distance, watching as they lift her, her now-sleeping form swinging between them. A pang of sympathy knots in my chest; seeing someone so lost, so much heartache, is harder than I thought.
As the hallway clears, Dr Moss lets out a sigh, visibly defeated, and turns to approach me.
“Ah, Raven,” he says with a strained smile. “Great to see you here. It’s already been a bit of a morning.”
“Yeah, I could see that,” I reply, nodding as he gestures for me to follow him into his office. Inside, he lets the tension seep out, running a hand across his brow with a slow, tired shake of his head.
