When The Sky Bleeds ✔️

Chapter 3

As I stepped outside, the cold winter air instantly bit at my skin, matching the icy grip around my heart. The sound of the door closing behind me felt like the final nail in the coffin of the shattered bond. I climbed into the backseat of the black sedan, my hands trembling against the leather upholstery. The officer next to me glanced over with a hint of sympathy in his eyes. His voice was measured and gentle as he tried to offer some morsel of comfort.

"I understand this is difficult for you," he said, his tone laced with empathy. "But sometimes, life takes us down paths we never envisioned."

The second officer, a tall and imposing figure, slid into the driver's seat with a stoic expression. He didn't acknowledge my presence or utter a single word as he started the engine and began to drive. His silence spoke volumes, conveying an air of authority and seriousness that made me uneasy.

I glanced out the window, my heart pounding with fear and disbelief. How had it come to this?

The world outside seemed distorted, as though reality itself was wavering. Familiar landmarks and faces became distant memories, slowly dissolving into an abstraction of what once was. The flickering lights of the city blurred together like fractured dreams, mocking my desperate attempts to cling to reality.

The police officers exchanged glances through the rear-view mirror. Their stern expressions confirmed what I already knew deep down—they believed I was unhinged, delusional even.

Perhaps a psychiatric hospital was where I was meant to be. Perhaps the reckless actions and impulsive decisions had led me here, where I could finally find peace. Or perhaps I was just a danger to myself and others, and this was simply a means of protecting myself and those around me.

We drove for a while, and then the psychiatric hospital came into view. It was a massive structure of weathered stone and imposing architecture. Its grandeur was evident in every intricate detail on its exterior. The façade boasted an array of towering columns, each meticulously carved with swirling patterns as if hinting at the psychological complexities that awaited within.

The walls were made of rough-hewn stone, giving the building an air of ancient mystique and solemnity. Vines cascaded down the sides, interweaving their delicate tendrils between the cracks in the stonework as if nature sought to soften the institution's intimidating presence.

The gates loomed before me, a foreboding entrance to a world I had never traversed. The steel bars that stretched upward seemed to whisper secrets as if beckoning me to abandon hope at their threshold.

An officer ushered me towards the front door, where a stern-looking nurse stood waiting with arms crossed. Her face was devoid of emotion, as if she had seen it all before.

The officers quickly bid their departure without so much as a goodbye or a comforting word, having exhausted all words of solace.

"Please follow me," the nurse's voice was curt and business-like as she turned on her heel and led me through the doors.

The sterile smell of disinfectant hit me like a wave as we walked down the long, fluorescent-lit hallway. The nurse moved swiftly, her polished white shoes gliding across the cold linoleum floor. I struggled to keep up, my heart pounding like a frantic bird trapped within a cage.

Every so often, we passed closed doors adorned with small windows covered in mesh wire. Through those windows, I caught glimpses of people, their empty stares and melancholic expressions hauntingly etched into my memory.

As we navigated the labyrinthine corridors, I noticed the walls held faded paintings and inspirational quotes, their colors dulled by time and indifference. One particular painting stopped me in my tracks, its bold hues standing out in stark contrast.