"Are you out of your mind? I could hurt you." The veins started to pumped up in fear of what i'm capable to do. Everything was a blur to me, the room becoming sketchy as the time passed by and he's here down in his knees-looking up at me. A look of...
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I woke up jolting up-inspecting around the room where i'm in, four white walls, wooden tiled floor, cold atmosphere around the surrounding. Thinking stupidly that maybe I was in my dorm, my eyes flickered open to get a clear vision around the area and I spotted someone with white med-tech coat on layered with black shirt on it, with her hands clasped together while looking into me, checking up on me.
And I almost forgot.
I almost forgot that it's the day where I go to the therapy that father had appointed me since I was a kid to see what's wrong with me, right, right. I blacked out after the therapist gave me a sedative injection-which goes by named Dr. Jenkins, we weren't that close.
I don't know her, she doesn't know me, we don't know each other. But in her perspective, she pretended that she can see through me as if she knew me the past years as her client, like she knew everything about me that I don't. And no.
Dr. Jenkins asked, checking upon my movements and actions. "Do you feel discomfort, Eve?" and I had the urge to lie, I want to, but I could feel she will get suspicious upon that-literally have no idea what kind of sedatives she had inject in me. I hardly know.
"No," I mutter, and she gave me a smile to acknowledge my answer.
And it was a false assumption of her thoughts, thinking that she may or might understand what I feel, what I know, the things i'm able to see, or even hear, and everything within that-I can sense it. No one can understand the things I do, not even the slightest, neither do I.
I couldn't understand myself, so why try to do so? Why try to fix what's broken already?
Why are you trying to understand that's hardly even known, recognize or acknowledge by the people around me. They're trying to fix something that i'm not, they always do this.
"Throughout our session little by little you're getting better." Dr. Jenkins said, forming a smile for me. And I didn't bought it. No, I'm getting worse. I was still sitting in the medical chair across her with my arms laying on the arm-rest, I noticed that there's a bandage placed on my arm, and realized that it's the cause of the sedatives she injected me.
I couldn't remember anything about that just now, even if I try hard to remember it, everything was a blur. I had always wanted to say what my inner voice has been saying for those years, I feel like it's stuck in eternity with me, those voices keep eating me. And realized that just now.
There's plenty of unlabeled medicine in a jar placed on her shelves behind her and some of them are placed on the table infront of me, spotting a glass of water and the two pills. I guess it's time.
I averted my gaze, my eyes darting at Dr. Jenkins sight, she was waiting for me to drink it, keeping up with her smile that I always hate to see ever since she was admitted to being my therapist. My hazel eyes didn't left her presence and I wasn't planning to do what she wants without telling me it. Because I got used to their actions but never the things they wanted me to do.
