A New Pair Of Socks

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Mrs. Noceda and Darius had planned this. They'd lied to him from the beginning, let him believe that he was going to go home and resume his normal life, and now they'd pulled the curtain away to reveal the real scheme. They psych ward loomed closer and closer, and he became more and more desperate to leave the confines of Camila's car. Every second he spent watching trees, buildings, houses, and powerlines rush past the car he spiraled further and faster.

He wanted to leave. He needed to get out. But then Mrs. Noceda's eyes locked with his, and his thoughts momentarily froze.

"It'll be okay, baby. I know this is hard, I know you're scared. But I need you to understand that this will be good for you. You'll feel better soon, I know it." Then, she turned to face the road and continue their drive, humming softly to some old Spanish song.

He wanted to tell her that he already felt better, that he was fine, but if he was being brutally honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he would believe those words if he heard them coming from his own mouth.

Sweat pooled in his palms when they pulled sharply into a parking lot. The buildings that loomed down on them looked ominous and maze-like. It was almost like a campus;  perfectly manicured lawns, concrete paths cutting through the grass in-between well kept buildings. Despite the fact that the car had been carefully tucked into a parking spot and the key had been removed from the ignition, nobody moved to get out of the car.

Hunter was getting squirmy. What was wrong? Did they forget something? Were they waiting for him?

"... Things may be a little ugly in there, Hunter. I'm thinking that it's good for us to take a second and uh... talk expectations." Darius said. "Your therapist said it might help." He finished the thought. "You've seen those late night TV shows where the character goes to the psychiatric ward and they strap him up in a white vest and throw him in a room, right?"

Hunter paled, remembering those dramatized scenes. "Uh, what's your point?"

"It's not like that! I don't know, I don't watch that genre of TV. I'm a romcom kind of guy, you know that! Anyways, I don't want us to go inside with that expectation. They'll do some intake stuff, collect some info on you, and then get you all set up in a room. You'll probably have a roommate."

Jeez . Hunter was so tired of people poking and prodding at him, asking him stupid human questions. He wasn't sure if he'd ever been asked so many questions about his well being in his life . Nobody was interested how he was doing in the Emperor's Coven, and he liked it that way.

With a few more reassuring words, each of the car's passengers opened the door. Darius walked over to the back of the car and popped Camila's trunk open to reveal several bags of his stuff. Clothes, toiletries, medication, comfort items, blankets, miscellaneous objects. All neatly packed into bags with a strangely high amount of care and thought.

Another slap in the face, or at least it felt like it. The adults in his life had known , planned the whole damn thing, and hid it from him before he could get a word of his own opinion in. Hunter just couldn't wrap around why they were making such a big deal about this whole stupid thing.

So what, he'd taken too much medication. It was an accident, he didn't mean to do it, it wouldn't happen again. Worse things had happened in the Coven. He grew up around war, death, murder, and corporal punishment. Why, only now, were they so focused on this one little blip? Hunter had endured more near death experiences than he had fingers and toes. Despite all of his prior insistence, he'd wound up in this situation anyways.

Reprogrammed (Hunter Angst)Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt