Page 20 of Asylum

He hurt me.

I don’t understand how he could do this.

What will I do now?

Leaving the shower area, I meet Nurse Carter in the hall, the silent tension suffocating as the clicking of her heels echo around us. We reach Atlas’s door, and she knocks impatiently.

“Come in,” he shouts, and my stomach churns.

The old cunt spins on her heels, walking away as I twist the handle, pushing the door open slowly.

“Have a seat on the couch, Olivia.”

Closing the door, my anxiety spikes, and I count my steps to the couch.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Another step could’ve been taken, but my fourth step is larger, so I end on an even number. Staring at the floor, I keep my gaze down as I sit on the plush, leather cushion in the middle of the couch.

“Were you counting?” He asks, and I nod. “Are you upset?” I nod again. He sighs, rising from his chair, coming to squat down in front of me. “Look at me and use your words, Olivia.”

I meet his gaze, my teeth grinding together. “What do you want me to say?” I grit out.

His jaw clenches. “Calm yourself. I don’t want a repeat of yesterday.”

A humorless laugh bursts free before I can stop it. “Seeing as I don’t remember much, I’m not sure I can change the outcome of today.”

“What do you remember?” He asks, his hands coming to rest on my thighs as he sinks to his knees.

I ignore the heat flooding my core as his fingers brush across my sensitive skin. “We got in an argument.”

He tilts his head to the side. “What else?”

“Pain,” I sneer, pushing his hands from my legs.

His head hangs as he sighs, almost as if he feels guilty. “You were upset yesterday. You had an episode and attacked me. I had no choice but to sedate you.”

My mind catches up, allowing me to take in all the bruising on his face, remorse weighing heavy in my chest.I did that to him.“Why was I upset?”

“I’ve been busy, and we went a few days without seeing each other. You were angry, then I was angry, and it snowballed from there.” He meets my gaze, and emotion flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone before I can decipher what it is. “It was out of my hands. Dr. Halstead took one look at me, and ordered corrective action be taken. I had to perform electric shock therapy on you.” I gasp. “I’m sorry, Olivia. I didn’t want to do that to you, but he gave me no choice.” His head hangs again. “Please forgive me.”

My chest tightens at his words, and I lean forward, cupping his cheek as his eyes meet mine. “You didn’t want to hurt me?”

He shakes his head. “Of course not.” He searches my face. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I whisper.

He grips my hand, pulling me to my feet. He leads me into the bathroom, spinning me around to face the mirror. My breath rushes out of my lungs, and I’m horrified at my reflection. Leaning forward, I quickly spot the reason for the sensitive skin on my temples.

Burns.

I don’t dare touch them, already feeling the constant sting since waking up. Examining myself further, I don’t miss the black circles under my eyes, the sunken cheekbones protruding from my pale face. There’s no mirrors in the community shower area, a safety precaution, I’m sure. They don’t want us killing them when their backs are turned. I can’t say the idea of sinking a piece of glass into Nurse Carter’s throat has never crossed my mind. Pulling the gown tightly around my waist, I’m shocked by how much weight I’ve lost. I’ve felt thinner, the gown growing larger and heavier, but I look terminally ill.