11-23-2022, 05:05 AM
The orderly lead him down a hall that felt oppressive and claustrophobic despite the wide hallways. Maybe it was the low ceiling and lower lights. He supposed it made sense to keep lights low to avoid overstimulation of their more sensitive patients.
Not a prison, but similar in the need to, above all, keep emotions calm and people under control. Routine was as much a part of it as medication and treatment.
God, I would kill myself if had to stay here. It was an odd thought. Despite his atypical state, he has never considered himself mentally ill. He knew enough, from studies and from his own experience, that people who had Antisocial Personality Disorder, what was still incorrectly labeled as sociopath or psycopath tendencies, were more common than most realized. People with those traits might easily find themselves in positions as CEOs, governors or presidents, judges and even doctors, where they thrived more often than not.
And he was a lawyer, after all, had even become Attorney General for the Department of Justice. His condition had not, in actuality, been a hindrance, at least in that sense.
And yet despite knowing that- knowing that he was normal, at least, insofar as there was a thing such as normal- being here, gagging on the stench of industrial strength bleach, looking at the bile yellow linoleum and sickly white- it was just stark white, wasn't it- walls tearing at his eyes, made him want to turn around and run.
The muffled sound of their steps seemed to be absorbed by the hallway, heightened the feeling they were descending into hell.
His heart beat ramped up, as did his breathing. The hint of a headache grew with each step, until now his head pounded. No. He was not doing well. This had been a mistake. He was losing it and was in no position to negotiate for Daiyu's release.
Stopping at a door- how many turns had they taken? He hadn't even noticed- the orderly knocked once and, at what must have been a summons that he could not hear, opened the door, and motioned him to enter.
Beto followed numbly, unsure of what he was doing there-
-his breath caught in his chest and he froze. It was Meera! His eyes locked on her, heart pounding, not seeing or caring about the rest of the room.
Hope filled him as he seemed to catch a glimpse of divine peeking out from behind the veil of the universe. Relief flooded his body near to ecstacy even as he stood frozen. This was not coincidence.
God had once again flashed up, nudging him along his path.
And in the moment, the dread and fear and pain fled. Strength and confidence returned. His voice was firm and sure. "Meera. It is good to see you again. I did not expect to find you here."
Not a prison, but similar in the need to, above all, keep emotions calm and people under control. Routine was as much a part of it as medication and treatment.
God, I would kill myself if had to stay here. It was an odd thought. Despite his atypical state, he has never considered himself mentally ill. He knew enough, from studies and from his own experience, that people who had Antisocial Personality Disorder, what was still incorrectly labeled as sociopath or psycopath tendencies, were more common than most realized. People with those traits might easily find themselves in positions as CEOs, governors or presidents, judges and even doctors, where they thrived more often than not.
And he was a lawyer, after all, had even become Attorney General for the Department of Justice. His condition had not, in actuality, been a hindrance, at least in that sense.
And yet despite knowing that- knowing that he was normal, at least, insofar as there was a thing such as normal- being here, gagging on the stench of industrial strength bleach, looking at the bile yellow linoleum and sickly white- it was just stark white, wasn't it- walls tearing at his eyes, made him want to turn around and run.
The muffled sound of their steps seemed to be absorbed by the hallway, heightened the feeling they were descending into hell.
His heart beat ramped up, as did his breathing. The hint of a headache grew with each step, until now his head pounded. No. He was not doing well. This had been a mistake. He was losing it and was in no position to negotiate for Daiyu's release.
Stopping at a door- how many turns had they taken? He hadn't even noticed- the orderly knocked once and, at what must have been a summons that he could not hear, opened the door, and motioned him to enter.
Beto followed numbly, unsure of what he was doing there-
-his breath caught in his chest and he froze. It was Meera! His eyes locked on her, heart pounding, not seeing or caring about the rest of the room.
Hope filled him as he seemed to catch a glimpse of divine peeking out from behind the veil of the universe. Relief flooded his body near to ecstacy even as he stood frozen. This was not coincidence.
God had once again flashed up, nudging him along his path.
And in the moment, the dread and fear and pain fled. Strength and confidence returned. His voice was firm and sure. "Meera. It is good to see you again. I did not expect to find you here."