Page 9 of Bleed for Me

A laugh tumbled out of me and my fingers flexed of their own accord. If an infection was the least of my worries here, then I’d say I was doing pretty swell.

After all, what was life without a little bit of pain?

THREE

ROSALIE

The room they stuck me in wasn’t anything fancy. Everything was decorated in white with a small bathroom attached. They’d said that I’d be forced to stay in here at all times of the day with the exception of counseling and group therapy until they felt like I wasn’t a threat to myself or to others. I hoped that it was just normal protocol for new patients, but deep down, I knew it wasn’t. No one believed me.

On the bright side, Mom had come through on her promise to bring me more clothes. But on the downside, they weren’tmyclothes. I’d sifted through them after my shower earlier this morning, only to be left with a feeling of dread. She’d brought me tons of skirts and revealing tops that she must have pulled from her own closet. Hell, maybe the neighbor had given them to her, considering my mom never wore anything other than a robe or a T-shirt these days.

In the end, I’d opted for a black and white plaid skirt that brushed along the top of my thighs, pairing it with knee-high stockings in an attempt to cover as much of my skin as possible. The shirt I chose matched the rest of the outfit well. Whitepolyester with a flaring collar and three buttons down the chest area.

Anxiety rippled through me for the millionth time over the course of the last week. It felt like my heart had been permanently lodged into the bottom of my chest cavity—the reminders of what put me here fluttered around my brain incessantly. How was I supposed to come back from this? How could I keep forcing myself to move forward after what had happened?

Regret seared through my chest, leaving a sharp pain behind in its wake.

Daisy.

My beautiful little sister who wouldn’t harm a fly. I meant that in the most literal sense. She’d always been amazed by all types of wildlife, that didn’t exclude insects or parasites. Every weekend, I’d leave college to go back to my family home. She’d often go to church with me and Alex, and then we’d take her out to eat and to the art gallery, or to see a movie of her choosing. She might have been my sibling, but she also felt like my child.

The goal had been to finish up college, get a place of my own, and then bring Daisy to live with me. She would have loved it. I’d planned it all out. From the color scheme her room would be to what school she’d go to. It was so close to becoming a reality that I could taste it.

If I’d just taken her sooner, I could have gotten a job and used that money to pay a babysitter while classes were in session. She would still be alive, and I wouldn’t behere.

Heat spread behind my eyes causing my vision to grow blurry, but before any of them could fall, a knock sounded against my door before it creaked open. My heart might as well have jumped into the back of my throat.

A woman in a blue button-down shirt—much like the white one I wore—stepped into the room. She was young and couldn’thave been much older than I was. The olive shade of her skin complimented her features and contrasted against her light green eyes and raven-colored hair. A lanyard hung loosely around her neck with a photo ID and key card, but she was too far away for me to make out her name on it.

Nervous energy flickered from her, filling the small space of the room we both resided in now. Steeling her spine, she carefully schooled her features as if she didn’t want me to sense the fear radiating from her that had already been so potent from the moment she stepped through the threshold.

“Rosalie,” she began, her voice more firm than her posture. “It’s time for group therapy.”

Group Therapy.

A place for mentally ill people to express themselves without judgement. A place to strengthen social skills and work on verbalizing unwanted thoughts and feelings with the other peers of the group while a therapist took notes.

Before being stripped away from my family home after nearly being murdered, I’d been studying psychology at Northbrook University. That’s where I met Alex, who had been studying the exact same thing. He had a passion for learning about how the mind worked as I did.

Hesitantly, I rose from the edge of my unkempt bed.

The woman offered me a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll bring you right back once you’re done. It shouldn’t take longer than an hour.”

She must have taken my reluctance for me not wanting to leave my room, when that wasn’t necessarily the case at all. Sure, the thought of being surrounded by crazy people was nerve racking, especially since I knew how much of a role physical and mental illnesses could alter a person’s way of thinking and the way they acted on those thoughts. The smallest thing could bea trigger for someone and sometimes those triggers resulted in deadly consequences for those around them.

“My name is Gloria. I’ll be your staff member through the first half of the day. Then, It’ll be Ms. Catalina. At night, you’ll have Mr. Mitch,” she explained at random.

“Is there only one staff member per shift?” I questioned, not liking the odds of that at all.

She shifted uncomfortably. “Per hall. These will be the staff members on your hall once you’re taken to your room.” A tight smile graced her lips that didn’t seem sincere in the slightest. “It’s already all set up for you in the East Wing.”

Once she figured that I had nothing more to say, she motioned for me to follow behind her. Hesitantly, I did so. With how she was acting around me, she must have read over my file. To them, I murdered Gentry in cold blood, and they possibly thought I’d been the one to kill Daisy, too. They weren’t there. They didn’t see exactly what had happened. If the roles were reversed, I’d probably be a little nervous too.

She led me down a narrow hall that was as white as the room they locked me up in. White marble with black specks laced within it decorated the floors, my dirty sneakers squeaking against it. The walls were bare and mundane, not even pictures adorning them.

Taking a right, she led me down another hall that didn’t look much different than the last other than the fact that this one contained more doors on either side and the sound of voices reached my ears.

“Here you go.” She smiled. “I’ll be sitting near the back of the room with Ms. Karla. You won’t even know I’m here.”

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