Emerson Hensley made the short walk from the car to the doors of Burton's Home and Hospice, stopping to take in the reality of the situation. A hand rested on the small of her back, bringing her out of her trance.
"Are you sure about this?" Spoke Robert. She nodded slowly. "You don't have to he spoke again.
Emerson placed her hand on the door and pushed the heavy wood. She walked to the only bench in the front hall. It was metal and cold against the back of her calves.
Robert walked up to the front desk and talked with the secretary, signing them in. He returned to her side, separated by her light blue suitcase.
As they waited Emerson took in everything, which wasnt much. The white washed walls took one the appearance of a desert ground, cracking and peeling, with an ombreing affect increasing more and more as it rose to the high roof, clearly from cigarette smoke. There were two paintings in all on the walls, scattered around.
"Sister Margaret will see you now Mister Hensley."
Robert nodded to the secretary, picked up Emerson's suitcase and walked to the indicated door.
The doorway was dark and gloomy. Emersons stomach dropped and she felt faint, second guessing her choice to find the reason for her cousins death within the institution.
YOU ARE READING
Excruciating
Teen FictionEmerson Hensley was adamant to expose the corruption of Burton's Home and Hospice, a mental institution that took in the mad and unable.
