I was thrashing wildly against the restrains, as Doctor James advanced towards me like a predator. I was helpless and trapped. I couldn't do anything due to the gag around my mouth and he was cruel enough not to sedate me as the sadist wanted to hear every scream, every cry as he forcibly plundered my body every night.
I would wake up every morning, sore and bleeding and hid the injuries from the other workers in this hell. Not that anyone would save me from this bland world of punishment—no one cared enough. He had threatened to kill me if I even uttered a word about this, and I quietly endured his torture every disgusting night.
Even during my therapy sessions, all that was done was electrocute me until I had passed out. I
I was in a mental hospital and this was my own personal hell.
Today, Doctor James was fired. His misdeeds with other female patients must have probably reached the Head. Who knows? I was too broken to care; although the world saw a rude, tough exterior, no one knew how damaged I really was. I should be happy, right? But I felt nothing. Instead of feelings, I was a hollow shell
An utterly bored voice broke my train of thought.
"Isabella! Get up. It's time for your session."
I was surprised. Wasn't James thrown out? I thought I'd be free of this torture for at least a week until my ordeal began again, but I was wrong. Oh why, why had I let myself hope? My chest constricted in fear…dreadfully awaiting what kind of new "treatment" I was subjected to.
Little did I know that I would finally see the light after a long, dark tunnel.
