Limerence

Pigeon

Anya clicked the pen in her hand ferociously while sitting on the edge of the bed. One of the nurses had come in just a little bit ago and handed her the discharge papers and a black pen which, to it's chagrin, had not left the patient's trembling hand since it had first entered the room.

She was extremely close to just pressing the emergency call button for the sole purpose of speeding these people up when she heard two light taps on the door.

"Come in," Anya called out, while setting the pen down on the papers. An older woman entered. She swiftly grabbed the glasses that were on top of her head and slid them onto her face, allowing them to rest on the tip of her nose. "Good afternoon Ms. Provost. Your papers please," she said.

Anya handed her the thin stack of papers and the pen, which she used to sign and initial the documents after reading through everything. The nurse gave her a curt smile and motioned towards the door. "A driver is being sent for you. In the meantime, please take a seat downstairs and let us know if you need anything."

She quickly sped off  without even waiting for Anya's acknowledgment of her instructions. The young woman watched the nurse until she turned the corner, mostly because she wanted to see how she was able to move in such ways without her glasses falling right off of her nose.

After descending the stairs (and making more jokes to herself about the woman and exactly what activities it would take for her spectacles to topple), she took a seat on a sofa in the corner by the front door.

Why was the nurse in such a rush? Anya was pretty sure that she was one of the only patients here, with the exception of a couple of people who needed sutures. At least it was quiet. One of the perks of being in her field of work.

The treatment center Anya resided in for the past year or so resembled a bed and breakfast more than it did a medical facility. When she was admitted there, she was expecting freezing rooms, gross hospital food, dirty floors, and shitty beds. In lieu of that, she was placed in a cozy looking estate with beautiful architecture, incredible staff, and shitty beds. At the end of the day, Anya was grateful that she wasn't tossed into a normal hospital, but she swore her back hurt more than the legitimate torture she was put through that got her chucked in there in the first place.

The group that she worked for essentially created a bubble that allowed her and her coworkers to stay separate from the rest of the world. Usually if you have a problem, you go someplace that will take care of you. In her case, psychiatrists and other medical personnel were brought to her. It seems a little bit extra but quite frankly, it's for the best.

She was a sniper. That in itself is not something that she felt she could talk about in those "group therapy sessions". The main reason she needed her own staff is because what she does isn't entirely...legal. It's not that it's illegal either, because her group does work with the government sometimes, but her boss thought it better to just keep a low profile and avoid sharing what they do with the general public as much as possible.

While it was a secretive way of living life, Anya had to agree with him. How do you think saying "Yeah so I was a sniper, but my strategy was compromised and I was abducted by a sadistic asshole who tortured me and dumped me on the side of the road, where I was left with no food and water and the recurrent thought that he's still out there somewhere" will go with a normal doctor?

Anya was jolted out of her thoughts when the loud buzzer at the front door sounded. The woman at the front desk clicked a button somewhere and looked at her computer. "Heyyyy there Mr. Perrault. Come on in," she cooed. A tall man in a navy blue suit pushed through the door and immediately started scanning the room for the young woman whom he was meant to pick up.