-Story by Jemma Beggs–
Monday morning, 9:00 a.m.
She pauses in the doorway, takes one last deep breath to try and smother the dread that pools in her stomach, then strides across the room, keeping her eyes fixed on her destination.
Victoria is watching.
She is relieved to see the empty white space of the desk: Good, no mess. A clean slate today. She sits, then risks a glance. Victoria is staring at her with eyes like bottomless pits. She quickly averts her gaze but can still feel those black eyes.
Michael approaches her desk. Victoria watches. Judges.
Resentment flares across her cheeks: Doesn’t Victoria have anything important to do? She watches Michael’s mouth move as he speaks, but her thoughts drift to Victoria.
“I need to know what you think about…”
Why won’t she leave me alone?
“…so it’s very important that you listen to what I’m saying, because…”
What kind of sicko is she, anyway?
“…and last week we had some complaints about your behavior in…”
She must make her stop staring. She can’t bear it for another second. The rage writhes upward through her body, like a swarm of maggots eating her from within. It pools in her throat until she feels she will choke.
Michael stops talking. In the silence, Victoria unleashes a high, cold laugh.
The moment swells and snaps and she lunges at Victoria.
She smashes her hands into Victoria’s cold, hard face, again and again and again. Blood runs down her arms, and a torrent of high-pitched screams gush from her mouth in blind rage as she obliterates all trace of this vile, loathsome person.
“Someone grab her!”
“She shouldn’t be in the rec-room with the other patients—she’s not stable.”
The nurses push needles through Victoria’s skin, sedating her. They swaddle her bleeding hands.
“It’s only the mirror, Victoria,” Michael says gently, as she slackens.
Post Photo Courtesy of en.wikipedia.org