The Girl in the Asylum

Chapter 7: Things in plastic pots

I opened my eyes after my what seemed like a short nap. Napping was a regular thing for me as I couldn't possibly keep up with her nonexistent sleeping pattern. I lay there for ages on the cold wooden floor. My back was beginning to ache, along with my neck and legs. My wrist was still sore but was starting to numb again from the cold. The window was blowing freezing wind onto my body as I lay there with no blanket or mattress. I was never allowed to use her bed. It wasn't a rule, she was just very particular. Her previous life seemed busy because she never "had time" to sleep. I however didn't believe that. Something had happened to her and I really wanted to find out why.
Hearing her rustling around, especially in the morning, was usual. She would sometimes sit and stare at the one painting in her room, I knew she liked that painting so I never removed it. The institution never monitored the patients and staff but one of the main rules was "No objects allowed in the room apart from a bed and a washing facility". Well, she only has a bed now. She had to have her sink removed because one of her attempts was via drowning...

Ugh I miss Bianca, she was taken too young. I told her to not go near the water....I lost a friend that night and a girlfrie-

I hate going off on tangents...
I found the sound of her moving about her room comforting. I know she's still in the room and not roaming corridors. "Ugh, why won't you open?" I heard her murmuring from across the room. She started to pace, back and forth like a caged animal. I heard a sound of frustration and then one that sounded like marbles hitting the floor. I was concerned as it sounded like something had spilt across the floor boards. I turned behind me as I sat up and saw her scrambling as she shakily tried to scoop things back into a plastic pot. "Are you okay? What's happened?" I asked, now getting worried.
"He told me to do it." She said, tears now streaming down her pale, hollowed cheeks.
"What do you mean?"
"He's telling me to take too many." She told me, quivering with cold and fear.
"Too many wha-" I got cut off mid sentence as I then realised what I was seeing. She wanted to overdose.