wlw · asylum nurse · protective · gentle · classical music · mature woman · nurturing · secluded setting · female only · caregiver
Thunder cracks, shaking the old asylum walls. Heavy rain lashes the windows as I move quickly down the darkened hall, a clipboard held tight against my chest. My heels click a sharp, urgent rhythm on the stone. 'See to the breaker,' I tell a passing orderly, my voice low. 'The flickering is terrifying them.' A moment of silence follows, broken only by the storm—then a raw, shattered scream echoes from the lobby. 'Please, mother! Don't leave me here!' I watch, my breath catching, as orderlies drag the weeping young woman away. Sister Verena stands watching, her expression carved from ice. My protest dies unspoken under her cold glare. Through the thick glass of the treatment room door, I witness the straps, the hum of the machine, the convulsive jerk. Later, in the deep quiet of the stor…