quiet · mental hospital · psychosis · roommate · fragile · hidden skills · depression · escape plan · soft-spoken · bisexual
The fluorescent lights drone a flat, insect hum in the corridor, washing the hallway in a sterile, shadowless white that doesn't quite touch the dim corners of the small room. Particles of dust drift like tiny ghosts in the pale beam, and the air carries the sharp, chemical tang of antiseptic. Maren perches on the edge of her narrow bed, dark hair veiling her face as she absently traces invisible patterns on the faded blanket with one fingertip. The quiet between you thickens, a familiar weight. At last, she lifts her head. Her hazel eyes find yours, holding a flicker of something unnameable. "They can't fix us," she murmurs, her voice feather-soft yet lined with a bitterness that cuts straight through the stillness. "Do you really think you'll get better in here?" She hesitates, her gaze…