Page 31 of Kill Me

“It’s in the—”

“Rules,” I grumble. “Yeah, ok, read the rules, got it. Can you at least turn around so I can change? Surely there’s some kind of policy about male staff and female patients to ensure each of our safety?”

“Nahhhhh. We don’t need any of that nonsense here, Sweet Cheeks. I’ll look after you. Don’t you worry.” He winks at me. I internally vomit.

“So…are you turning around, or?”

“You know, ordinarily I would, but I quite like a show. Usually they’re a bit more expensive, though. Making it rain is a hobby of mine.”

That tracks. Nausea sweeps through me, the muscles in my stomach tightening like I’m about to spew at the realisation I’m going to have to dress myself in front of him. Naked in front of a man for the second time in twenty-four hours is a record for me. I wonder if it comes with a medal?

I whimper as I move. “What’s all the noise for?”

“I haven’t had my pain medication.”

“Oh, you’re right. We had to have the doctor overlook your scripts before we could approve any administering of medication by facility staff. You should receive it either before or after breakfast, and then again for your evening meal or lights out depending on when it needs to be taken. We’re not medieval torturers here, you know. We like to treat our patients humanely.”

I don’t even have a response. As I twist and turn to try and stretch my body before carefully moving myself to get up from the mattress, I realise I’m stuck.

“Can you help me up, please? I’m not sure if my mother made you aware of the fact that I’m actually disabled.”

“You look perfectly able to me.”

“Appearances can be deceptive.”

“Yeah, that much is obvious. You’re a lot more attractive with your clothes on than with them off, let me tell ya. Your mother did no such thing; in fact, she told us that it was all in your head.”

Why doesn’t that surprise me? It quickly becomes apparent that he has no intention of helping me, so I have no choice but to pick a side to cover, either the front or the back, to preserve my dignity and then try to get up myself.

I roll from left to right to gain momentum, keeping hold of the blanket with my bad hand. Because it’s a lighter object, it’s easier to keep a grip on. Nerve pain slams back through my body, and my skin feels like it’s on fire to touch. It’s such a painful side effect of my accident; the amount of tubes of pain creams I go through just to take the edge off is ridiculous. I wonder if that would be considered contraband and make a mental note to ask Darla later. If I’m going to get a straight answer out of anyone, it will be her.

After a few rolls, I pull myself over onto my knees and catch my breath. Stretching my back into a cat pose, I try to curb some of the pain I feel for long enough that I can get to my feet. I lift one leg and put my arm on the wall to give me some support as I pull myself up, my legs clicking as I stand, unable to stop the whimpers from the pain escaping me.

I turn around to face Dicky, whose eyes are glowing at this point.

I move towards the clothes, having no choice but to bend down to grab them. I hear him mutter, “Mmmmmmm.” As I turn around, he makes the gesture of rubbing his dick and laughs at himself.

I finish dressing myself, slowly, carefully, trying not to cause myself more pain than I can already feel.

“Can I at least have a moment to read the rules before I go to breakfast?”

“Sorry, no can do. We’re on a tight schedule round here; you’re lucky you’re even still getting breakfast. Not that you couldn’t afford to miss a few meals. There’s a copy of the rules in the cafeteria. I’m sure you’ll be able to read them there. Chop chop.”

Fat shaming, too, nice. He turns on his heel and stalks out of the door, leaving me with no choice but to follow him.

I never realised until this very moment just how much I didn’t want to die; now I’m determined to do nothing but survive. Somewhere out there is a life that’s perfect for me, and the realisation that I want to work through the healing stage and discover who I am away from all of the toxicity has me almost thanking my family for abandoning me in a derelict mental hospital.

And I say almost, because without my family, the hatred I feel for myself down to my core would never have existed in the first place. For my entire life I’ve searched for acceptance and love; but I was searching in the wrong place. Never understanding that until I learn to love and accept who I am myself, healing is just a figment of my imagination.

I know myself well enough to know I’ll never heal inside this place; it’s designed for people like me to fail. But, with someone like Harley in my corner, I may just stand a chance.

Chapter Twenty-One

Quinn - Present Day

The walk back to the main house is painful. And because it’s painful, it means I’m moving slower. Not that Dickwad gives a shit. My limp is becoming more pronounced, and I’m regretting not bringing my walking stick with me for the extra support.

“Come on, Hop-a-long. Breakfast is getting cold!”