White Walls (Asylum 2) - Page 33

“Adelaide, you need to sleep.” I hear the frustration in his voice.

“I know.” Another yawn. “I just wanted to tell you something.”

“What is it?”

I stare into his radiant eyes and then my eyes wander over every portion of his beautiful face. There's a hidden portion of this man that I'm determined to bring out. I know that deep down inside he can't be all cool stares, and stern orders. I know there's a part of him that's capable of feeling. Or a part of him that wants to. Why he doesn't show it, I can't be sure, but I just know that it’s there. I can feel it.

I open my mouth to tell him what I wanted to say, but the pull of exhaustion overwhelms me. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and welcome sleep instead.

Chapter Sixteen

~Before~

Aurora is a genius.

It has only been a few days since I’ve started weaning myself off my meds, but I’m already starting to feel like a new person. I feel more alive than I ever have and I still take the pills before bed. Part of me wonders what I’ll be like when I’m off them completely. I wonder if I’ll feel jubilant. Carefree. Excitement explodes inside of me whenever I think about it.

Of course Damien doesn’t like it.

“You know you need those pills to help you get better,” he tells me as he plops down on my cot.

“No, I don’t,” I retort, sitting down across the room from him, my back against the white padded wall of my room. This Damien has ulterior motives than my Damien. This Damien wants me to be dependent on the meds so I can be dependent on him. Because the only time I see him is when I’ve got a sugar high from a pharmaceutical sundae.

Damien opens his mouth and closes it. He narrows his eyes. Suddenly, the light above my head flickers and as I press my fingertips against the cool plaster I can feel the vibrating current of electricity. Somebody misbehaved today. I used to be terrified of when the lights flicker and the walls vibrate. I used to tuck myself into a ball on my cot when I’d hear the screams saturate the floors.

I think the staff performs these torturous acts when we’re all awake as a reminder of what could happen if we step out of line.

I don’t need reminding.

I’m well aware of what happens when we step out of line.

But I’m past the point of caring.

My head snaps to Damien and our eyes lock. He breaks his gaze first and shakes his head, tsking. “You know that could be you,” he taunts. “Of course, good girls who take their meds never wind up in the basement.”

“Can it!” I snap and hop to my feet, pacing the length of my room. Sometimes I wonder what my Damien would say if he could see this Damien and the way he harasses me.

My attention averts to the left when my door opens. For the first time ever, I breathe a sigh of relief when Marjorie steps into the tiny room to escort me to the mess hall for supper. I scowl at Damien as I sidle up to Marjorie and she grips onto my forearm.

But Damien isn’t going to let me get one up on him.

As Marjorie guides me through the open door, he calls after me in a chilling voice, “Goodbye, love. I’ll see you in a bit.” He pauses a beat. “Because I’ll still be here when you get back.”

~ ~ ~

I’m thankful for Aurora.

At the beginning of my stay at Oakhill, she was just a roommate, then a former roommate, and as the weeks dwindled by, I’ve come to think of her as more of a friend. She’s taken me under her wing, filled me in on the ins and outs of Oakhill, and even introduced to some of the more normal patients.

The mess hall is filled with rows of rectangular tables. Six on each side. Aurora and I sit at the middle table and she stops me, shaking her head as I'm about to cut into my slice of meatloaf. I shrug. “What?”

“Just skip the entree today.”

I stare at the rest of the contents on my tray. There's some corn. A roll. Some red Jell-O cubes. Even mashed potatoes. “But I'll still be hungry,” I insist.

Aurora raises her hands, purses her lips and looks down at the table. “Fine. Fine. But just so you know it tastes like—”

I don't listen to her. I’ve already shoved a cutlet of the browned lumpy meat into my mouth. “Rubber. Yuck,” I say as I spit the chewed up wad out.

Tags: Lauren Hammond Asylum Romance
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