Chapter 1
A blinding florescent light flickered from a distance, flashing through the one by one sized hole carved into the steel door. Derek blinked once, twice; his pupils dilated. His lids felt like razors against his eyes. The room smelled of dirt, steel and sweat. The faint hint of a medicinal smell drafted from a distant location.
Derek's mouth fell open. A gasp of air guzzled between his dry, chapped lips. Beads of sweat tickled his forehead, trickling down ever so slowly and stinging his eyes when they fell into the caverns of his sockets. His torso heaved upward, only rising a few centimeters from the flat surface that supported his weight. A tugging sensation radiated around his wrists; binding.
He opened his mouth to yell, shout, making some sort of noise but his throat burned. His hips lurched from the bed, adjusting the thick padding underneath him. His legs were bare, but there was the slightest tickle along his thighs, indicating some sort of dressing. The back of his head felt raw from the pressure against, what he assumed was a cot.
The raw sensation radiated through his mind, burning deep in his brain. Vertigo clung deeply to the corners of his mind; his eyes rolled back in his head, his lids falling closed. The room danced around him. His stomach turned uneasily, as if he were stranded on a boat, lost to sea while the waves rocked him back and forth. Puffs of air chocked up his throat, threatening to suffocate him.
The light flickered once more, shining a ray of light directly into Derek's eyes, blinding him monetarily. Spots of blue flickered across his retinas. He sealed his lids tight, scrunching his entire face forcefully. When he released the tension, he took a deep breath in and let out the only noise he could muster. A decent grunt echoed through the room, barely reaching the locked door. Derek arched his neck, pulling his head lower and his chin pointed toward the ceiling. The tangles in his hair tugged painfully against his scalp.
The sound of a keys jingling brought him enough strength to croak out another grunt. His throat ached fiercely. His chest felt as he was inhaling pure sea water; sloshing and tearing his lungs to pieces. The jingle of the keys grew louder, closer. He bucked his hips upward again, landing back down on the cot with a loud thump. The door opened, but Derek could not see the figure.
"Derek?" It was a woman.
His lip quivered as he breathed noisily but he could not speak.
"Mr. Hale. Do you know why you are here?" Her tone of voice was meant to sound assertive and firm, but fell flat around the edges. She paused; Derek could hear her breathing steadily across the dank little room. "Can you speak?"
Derek managed to shake his head back and forth. Just then, a cup of water with a straw was placed directly next to his face. His muscles were weak, but still managed to jolt painfully due to surprise. The plastic cup crinkled against his cheek. He arched his neck, just barely reaching the straw and putting it to his lips. The liquid ran directly into his lungs. His chest heaved, propelling spurts of clear liquid across his body and, the woman.
"You attacked another orderly, Derek." She spoke softly as she patted a napkin to the pools of liquid sprinkled across his gown. He continued to cough up the intrusion of liquid with his eyes clenched shut tight.
"Derek!" He heaved, managing to finally catch his breath and brought his attention to the woman standing next to the cot with eyes wide. He breath came out in breathless pants; oxygen barely reaching his strained lungs.
"Do you even remember what happened?" She prompted. Her hands ran over her blue scrubs, smoothing them out before taking a step towards him. The question lacked any surprise. The woman's features told him that she already knew the answer. He wondered why she had even asked.
"You were screaming your sister's name." Derek caught the name on the tag clipped to her scrub pocket. Amanda Fields MD. "You were screaming about the fire again too. I'm beginning to grow concerned about your tr-" Dr. Fields looked concerned just then. Derek's features contorted into confusion. Her head cocked to the side and her brows arched down.
Dr. Fields took another step toward Derek and knelt down beside his bed. She placed her hand on his restrained wrist. Something in her features brought a flash of fear ripping through him. It was as if she had had this conversation before. "Derek." Her tongue slipped between her lips, whether to wet them or stall for time.
"You've been having black outs. I'm your doctor, and you are in Beacon Hills Mental Institution. You have been here since your sister, Laura, died."
