“You don’t even remember me.”
He swallowed hard, throat working like it didn’t want to cooperate, eyes darting around the room like he was trying to calculate something, anything, that could get him out of this.
“Listen,”his voice shook as he spoke.“Whatever you think happened, whatever you remember, we – we were trying to help you. That was the whole point, we don’t, we don’t just,”I let him talk for a second. Watched the way his mouth struggled to keep up with his thoughts, the way his chest rose too quickly, like he couldn’t get enough air in.
“We follow protocols, we do what’s necessary, sometimes it’s not – it doesn’t look good from the outside but it’s for the patient's own,”
“MY OWN BEST?”
It tore out of me before I even registered moving, the words hitting the walls and bouncing back, louder than the space should’ve allowed. He flinched, hard. I went still after that, completely. Just stood there, staring at him like I was trying to peel something out of him with nothing but my eyes.
You can imagine it, can’t you, little Ghost? The exact moment where something inside someone stops lining up the way it used to. Yeah… that.
My gaze drifted, slow, unfocused for a second before landing on the table with the tools lined up.
“... you know what,”I said after a while.“I don’t think your treatment worked very well.”
“I don’t think pills and straps do much long-term.”
I tilted my head a little, like I was actually considering it, like this was a conversation we were having instead of whatever this had become. He didn’t say anything.
“I used to read a lot when I was younger,”I went on, almost absentmindedly.“Everything I could get my hands on. Real things. Things that made sense.”
The room stayed still between us.
“More useful than what you gave me.”My lips twitched faintly, but there was nothing behind it.
“Medication numbs. It doesn’t fix anything.”I let out a breath through my nose.“And what you called therapy…”I shook my head once.“Pathetic.”
The room held its breath with him.
“In the past,”I continued after a moment, voice dropping.
“They were more efficient.”
I reached out, dragging a fingertip lightly across the edge of the table, feeling the surface under it like I needed something physical to anchor the thought.“Lobotomies worked, didn’t they?”I glanced back at him.
“People became… easier afterward… more manageable.”I let that sit, let it settle in his head.
“But I guess that was fine, right?”I added, a faint edge of something mocking threading through it.“It was for their own good.”
He was sweating now. It clung to his skin, caught in the lines of his face, his breathing shallow and uneven. I looked at him again, really looked this time.
“I don’t think you’re well,”I said, almost thoughtfully.
“Drugging kids. Tying them down like animals.”
I watched his throat move as he swallowed.
“Do you know what happens to men who do that?”
He broke.“Please,”His voice cracked completely now.
“Please, I, I’m sorry, I,”
“But I’m not like them.”I cut straight through it, not raising my voice, just removing his from the space.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”That made him hesitate, confusion slipping in between the fear.
