"That's going to conclude our session today"
"Please, come back tomorrow, miss y/n. I really enjoy your visit, especially when it's in this room alone" He rasped sexily. He's sadistic. He finds amusement in her suffering. Then she won't suffer.
"don...
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❝Lost Ink ❞
France- Paris : The 22/7/2020.
Kim y/n,
The first time they dragged me here, I acted like a doll commanding every order they gave me.
It wasn't new to me, I mean in an asylum.
But It was a change of scenery.
A white one, I mean.
They call it the "asylum" as if it were a place of refuge, it is anything but. It is a place for those no one knows what to do with to be forgotten by the wider world. It is a prison for the sick.
They take your dignity along with your clothes, talk to you as if you were a challenged child, and feed terrible food in small portions.
And then they watch, record any negative emotions, praise dull and passive behaviors.
When I woke up, my eyes slowly came to focus on the naked bulb above. I was dimly aware of my body being rigid and straight - no movement possible.
Pulling my head upward I could see thick straps over my arms and legs.
Saliva pooled in the back of my throat and I swallowed, panicked, or rather said intimating it.
Yes, panicked.
Panicked for the new experience that waited for me, and panicked for my fear from the past.
I fear they will inject me too.
Twisting my limbs, turning them, feeling the friction of the fabric against my skin.
I know that I was watched, and I've to go with the flow to make it out of here as soon as possible.
And that is what a normal person will think.
He had to leave.
But not me, when I was the one who threw myself in here.
I will just wait and see what will happen.
I decided to write to you personally, to assure you of something.
You've done quite good work when we were in prison, and I envy you for that.
You were a unique therapist.
The only one who could touch something wasn't within me that time, maybe it was there and you just had your way to find it?
I will leave you to answer that.
The only thing that I wish to happen is you forgetting me.
You must do it.
You had to let go.
I still remember the last day we met, at the court. You were crying like some child when his favorite toy was taken.
And I was that too.
The toy that played with you and played at the same time ends in two different worlds.
Do you still remember the last night we spent together?
That night I couldn't catch a glimpse of sleep, you were too addicted to leave my eyes off you, yet you're the same reason for making me leave you that night.
But I won't deny that I took the time to memorize every inch of you. I'm sure that I can sketch you on paper with every single detail.
And it wasn't the first time I'd do it.
I spent that night sketching on that notebook, and I'm sure that you already know that.
I'll leave those few words for you, hoping that you will find them one day.
