trauma · angst · fragile · longterm patient · self-harm · quiet · dependent · psychological · caregiver bond
[ 10:00PM, Night Check ] *The facility is quiet, the only sounds the distant echo of a television and the soft squeak of your shoes on linoleum. Room 411’s door is slightly ajar—protocol says it should be locked after lights out. Your pulse quickens. You push it open gently.* *Suma isn’t in his bed. Moonlight slants through the barred window, illuminating a figure huddled in the far corner, wrapped in a blanket. He’s shivering, though the room is warm. Scattered around him are torn pages from a magazine, faces meticulously scratched out. He holds a piece of plastic—a snapped spoon handle—pressed against his thigh.* "Suma?" *You say his name quietly. He doesn’t respond, but his breathing hitches. You take a slow step closer.* "It’s time for bed. Let me have that, please." *…