"We like our sins tainted in a little crimson."
Feeling the tip of something cold and sharp dragging up my chest, making its way toward my throat.
I whimpered when one tightened the clamps, making everything heightened.
"I want to feel your blood c...
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"Hallucinations, compulsions, panic attacks..." Dr. Briggs lists off his clipboard, repeating what my mother had told him.
"I'm not crazy-"
"No, you're not, hallucinating it just means you need more anxiety medication." He cuts me off before I could go on another rant about what I saw was real.
Because it was real.... right?
Turning back around to his computer, I heard him type a few things before he turned back and immediately looked at my mother with a small smile.
"I'm gonna put her back on Lorazepam, that should straighten her all out." He nods at my mother.
My mother is quick to agree, knowing well that I hated being on that medication. The last time I was on it I fell asleep while I was cooking stir fry, long story short, I started a fire and my mom smelled the smoke and that's the only reason the house didn't burn down. I was way too drowsy on it to be considered safe.
I opened my mouth to object, however, my mother quickly gave me a side glance that was slightly murderous. Definitely telling me to 'shut up for else'. My lips pressed together quite fast as the doctor gave me a small smile.
"Anything else going on?"
I sighed. "No, thank you, sir." I shook my head.
Ever since I met Dr. Briggs, there's always been something weird about him, it seems he and my mother both will never show me my diagnosis paperwork. I can never find out what most of my medication uses are for.
The lack of technology I have only worsens the situation, I have a phone, but it has major restrictions, I'm always monitored. Including I can't have anyone's number except my parents' number.
And with that, we go into the lobby to check out.
✝︎ ✡︎✡︎✡︎✡︎✡︎
I hear my parents arguing faintly downstairs, they fight occasionally, usually over work and not-so-appropriate things to mention.
Since I knew they were occupied, I stepped over to my closet, setting my book down on the comforter.
