Friday
Aislen’s head roared with sound. She sat on the hospital bed shaking in the wet clothes, with the heels of her hands pressed to her ears, trying to find enough focus to restore the bubbles and shut away the overwhelming mental noise of the patients and staff around her.
(… So much pain…)
(I hope this is over quickly…)
(That is so disgusting…)
(Fifteen minutes until room 301 needs their next dose…)
(Hang in there… So much to live for…)
“We need to get those wet clothes off of her,” a nurse said, her voice muffled.
“If there’s been an assault, and from the look of her, there has been, then the police need to collect the clothing, or we’ll break chain of evidence. She’s not critical, so we have the time to let this be done properly.” (So sick of s****l assaults not being pursu
