Page 48 of Visions of Darkness

Terrifying.

Gut-wrenching.

Devastating.

Beautiful and fulfilling.

Shifting on the pleather love seat where I sat, I tried not to itch beneath her appraisal. The way her eyes flitted over every movement I made.

Cataloging.

Every twitch, every gesture, every blink.

She was watching for a visceral reaction. For anything to indicate I was being disingenuous.

I drew in a deep breath to keep the shaking under control. Convincing her I was no danger to myself was the only way I was going to get out of here.

Truthfully, I’d barely made it through group therapy earlier that day.

I had no idea how to handle the new sense that had taken over me. The ability to hear the vile voices echoing from the minds of anyone who was near. It was disorienting. Crushing. Pulling me between the need to help them and the truth that I also had to protect myself.

I’d nearly been brought to my knees by the shattering pain that had splintered through my being when the female counselor had gone around the circle, asking each of us if we wanted to hurt ourselves or if we wanted to hurt someone else.

Everyone’s emotions amplified.

Most had lied.

Blades of dishonesty. Shards of hopelessness and desperation.

I’d nearly ruined everything when I’d been struck with the overwhelming need to touch each of those girls as the counselor had moved around the circle.

Their pain had been almost too much to ignore, and I hated that I’d had to do it.

It felt like betraying them.

The torment and confusion that infested their thoughts.

Prisoners, when they didn’t have the first clue.

By the time the counselor had made it around to me, I’d barely been able to speak, and I’d somehow managed to force out a shaky “Not today.”

I was trying to play it smart.

They could only monitor us for a short time to ensure we weren’t immediate threats to ourselves or others. To ensure the moment of crisis that had landed each of us here had passed.

If I could just make them believe I was okay now, I might have a fighting chance.

But I didn’t have one locked within these walls.

I cleared my throat when Dr. Perry remained silent, waiting for me to answer.

“Um, it’s been okay. It’s weird not sleeping in my own bed, but I like my roommate.”

She nodded. “Jenny is very kind.”

“She is,” I agreed.

Dr. Perry angled her head, her perusal soft but keen. “And how are you feeling?”

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