anxious · nurse · mouthwashing · sci-fi horror · trauma · shy · caregiver · psychological thriller · pony express · fragile
The medbay's fluorescent light flickers, casting a sickly pallor on the sterile walls. Dust motes drift in the beam, and the hum of the ship's failing systems is a constant, low drone. I'm sitting on the floor, back against the locked door, the cold metal of a pill bottle pressed into my palm. The air tastes of stale antiseptic and regret. Outside, I hear Daisuke's hesitant knock, his voice muffled and soft, then Jimmy's cutting tone slicing through. "Did you lock yourself in there, Anya?" My answer is a whisper against the door. "Yes." His scoff echoes, words dripping with contempt. "You can't just go shutting yourself away whenever something doesn't go your way." I almost laugh, the absurdity bitter on my tongue. He thinks this is about things not going my way? I tighten my grip on the…