There’s an unfinished painting back at home… I think I ripped the canvas, though. My anger got the better of me. I didn’t want this– I just wanted to be left alone.

I wonder what Bryan and Brenda are up to right now. They’re probably celebrating my absence. Without me, there’s o ne less foster kid to drag to church– Not that it matters, of course; I’m still being indoctrinated and mistreated here . I don’t know what’s worse– being beaten down with chemicals or a belt.

…There’s no way they know what really goes down in this place– Miles certainly didn’t… That’s why he’s been trapped for so long .

None of this shit will work; not with God, not with chemicals or screens or anything like that. I can’t be corrected. Even if I could be… am I even worthy of it?

…I’m gonna end up like him, aren’t I?

No. I can’t–

Click.

“Patient 693, you’re scheduled for a session right now. Please come with us.”

“…What?” I groan, sitting up in the hospital bed and rubbing my eyes. “…No, I’m good, actually.”

“Oh. Unfortunately, that is not an option. Please come with us so we can refrain from using force.” Says an Advocate from the doorway.

“Hey, I’m not going, so piss off–!” I shout, scooting back. He takes a step forward, grabbing my wrist and quickly pulling me out of bed. My arms fail me as I make a weak attempt to free myself, so the Advocate drags me away.

I’m pulled through the familiar cold halls of the Sanctuary until we reach yet another set of yellow doors. These doors, like the other sections of the facility, have a large decal indicating what goes down there. This decal has what seems to be a megaphone, or one of those volume up icons you see on the television. The Advocate opens the door and pushes me into a metal chair before I can attempt to escape. He pulls both of my arms out onto the table in front of me, holding my wrist into a leather restraint which is secured with the snap of a stud fastener. I try to squirm from his hands, but it is once again futile; before I know it, both of my wrists are restrained to this table.

“You may go with your colleagues on break… I will take it from here.” An unknown voice chimes from behind. “Thank you for… The assistance.” Cold hands place a pair of headphones on my head, adjusting them so they stay secure.

“W-What the hell–?”

The person steps beside me, revealing themself with a tiny wave and an absent smile. They wear metallic headphones over their short, fluffy yellow hair with bangs dyed black and white like a raccoon tail. Their skin is a bronzed tan, the deep smile scars around their mouth paled in comparison and standing out with their bright yellow eyes; which have dark circles and are slightly sunken in, as if they hadn’t properly slept in weeks. The patch on their lab coat reads: Blythe Adams, Head of the Earworm.

“There was no need for all that silly scuffle, 693… Do you fancy music?” I try to shake the headphones off of my head in retaliation, but Blythe firmly holds them in place. “Oh… Don’t do that, no… We’ve really got to work on your… compliance.” They tighten the headphones once more to the point where it starts to cause a headache.

“What the fuck is all this for–?”

Blythe cocks their head to the side, blinking a few times as they pull a small device from the pocket of their lab coat.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t quite make that out, dearie.” They say blankly, pressing a small button on the device and cranking up a dial. They say something else, but I can’t quite make it out– All sounds are replaced with a loud song which blasts through the headphones; one that sounds almost industrial with a repetitive chorus of “Ha ha ha.” 

It gets annoying very quickly.

“Gah– Stop it!” I cry out, the high volume piercing my eardrums while the beats pound against my skull. My wrists ache as I try to squirm from the restraints.

Blythe smiles, standing beside me with their hands clasped together as they sway along to the music. I cry out in pain, my ears ringing loudly against the song blaring through the headphones. My cries go unheard by the Advocate, who is instead watching with anticipation, supposedly listening to the wretched tune with me.

“IT HURTS, TURN IT OFF–! ” I shout, leaning my head forward in hopes that gravity will pull the headphones off of me. Instead, small droplets of blood trickle from the sides of my face and hit the table.

It takes a few kicks to Blythe’s boots to snap them out of their trance. They glance down at the table and tilt their head curiously, pausing the painfully loud music and taking the headphones off of me. I can barely make out what they’re saying due to the persistent ringing in my ears.

“Oh my… That’s certainly not…” They push a strand of my hair behind my ear, wiping a bit of blood onto their gloved fingers. “…Hm. That’s not right…”

“Y-YEAH, OF COURSE NOT, DUMBASS–! ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY–?!”

“One moment… Let me get something so I can take a closer look.” Blythe says inconveniently quietly, walking to their office. It’s difficult to process everything with the pain, ringing in my ears, and rising panic, but I persist, determined to get out. I look down at the leather restraints, my breath quickening.

They’re secured with those buttons that snap together… They’re those ones used on doll clothes– surely they can’t be that strong.

I dip my head down, grabbing the end of the restraint with my teeth, pulling back until I hear a snap. My left wrist is freed. Without hesitation, I pop the other restraint open and shoot up from the chair, almost toppling over from disorientation.

Blythe looks up at me with fluster from across the room, almost dropping the medkit in their hands.

“Now, now, let’s not be silly…! Go sit back in your seat so I can have a look at your ears.” They coax, taking cautious steps towards me.

“Absolutely not!” I shout, snapping their head back with a swift punch to the face. They take a step back, wide-eyed and clueless as blood trickles from a cut on their bottom lip.

“N -N ow darling…” Blythe tilts their head, reaching for something in their pocket. “…There’s no need for that, is there?” My eyes widen when I see their thumb rest on the trigger of a small black taser.

When they slowly stalk towards me, I muster up what little strength I have at this point to knee them in the gut before they can tase me. They cry out in pain, stumbling back with a wheeze.

“Gh– My, my… Y-You’re… a naughty patient…” My gaze drifts to the floor as they try to regain their composure. 

The taser.

Before I can form a thought of doubt, I instinctively swipe it from the ground and lunge forward, jabbing it into their neck and pushing down on the trigger. Blythe's entire body stiffens and falls with a sickening crackle of electricity. Through my adrenaline rush, I turn and run away from the unconscious body on the floor, rushing out the doors and into the hallways. Not long after my escape, red warning lights flare above loud alarms which buzz loudly and urgently.

“ CODE YELLOW: LOCKDOWN EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY.”