- She doesn't work anymore, Steve. - said the doctor. - Bet she can't even hear what we're saying right now.
She could. All muffled, barely distinguishable sounds, yet she could hear. She couldn't listen, but she could hear, she couldn't understand, but she knew it.
- Patient 714, are you conscient? - Steve asked.
She didn't reply…at least not out loud. But Hugo could read her, as if she'd written the words in the air with her mind. And the air was heavy, and it looked like hell. Steve rushed in:
- I must go to check on another patient now - he quickly checked the clock, an almost white rabbit figure. - Are you sure you're safe with the keys?
- Steve, please…Before you, I held the solitary for various years. Besides, what harm can a little girl in a straight jacket do to me?
- I wasn't talking about you. - he pointed to the girl, sitting there in desolate appearance, just staring at the floor with her empty eyes and empty soul.
- She'll be fine, don't worry. It's just a few pills, it's alright. - Hugo calmed Steve into leaving. He was a very good actor.
But there were no pills, and there was no light. And she knew it. By the moment he brutally closed the doors, she could feel the sound and the wind of the slam. Cold. Hard. Unfeeling. Just like anything else.
She heard the lock, and she knew that it would be a night to remember.
… Not that she had a choice.
- Tell me, little girl - Hugo crouched down and soft, yet coldly grabbed her chin. - What's going on with your mind, hm? Do you understand what I'm saying? Do you understand anything at all?
She looked up to his freezing gray eyes, and there she stared at him for. A few seconds, before her head's weight fell on her neck.
She had given up…Way before it started.
Because she was already done with getting started anyway. Already done with fighting. Already done with screaming.
He pulled off his belt.
No sound was heard.