Alicia was sure she was dead. She missed having the capabilities to communicate with others, eat and talk by herself. Missed every piece of independence she'd ever had.
The doctors at the rehab center were helping her heal. With each passing day, she was able to move more. But the problem was she could only walk if she used crutches.
She had been doing speech therapy for three weeks and she could still only say five sentences but that was a start. Being able to speak at all? When she hadn't in a month? It was amazing.
She was feeling sad again and knew what she had to do. She had to let her doctors know. To tell them that the depression had returned.
She frowned. What if they sent her back to the asylum? She didn't want to return to that miserable place. Yet she also knew that might be the only choice if she was feeling worthless again.
She sighed. She would see Dr. Heart for her weekly therapy session tomorrow. She would tell him how she was feeling then.
The next day, she refused to see Dr. Heart. Instead, because he was concerned for her wellbeing, Dr. Heart went to see her. "Alicia, you have skipped all therapy sessions this month. I'm afraid I'll have to send you back to the asylum. Physically, you're well enough to go back home. Mentally, you're still extremely unstable."
Alicia looked up at him with tears in her eyes. "I can't go back. They'll kill me." She said. Then, she blacked out.
***********
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