Emma Guthrie '22, Writer

Bright.” That was the first thought that went through my head as I was led into the room. The lights were intense, and the walls were a stark white, making the room seem even brighter as the light bounced off of them. They took me to a chair in the corner of the room. The position was meant to be comforting, but that was hard to accomplish given the atmosphere. There was nowhere to hide. 

A few minutes passed, but it felt like an hour. Time was different here. There were no clocks or windows, and the only sound was the quiet buzzing of the lights. Well, normally quiet, but right now it sounded deafening. 


It seemed to get louder with each passing second.


I got up from the chair and began moving around, trying to escape the sound. 


No place to hide. I was trapped. The walls were closing in.


I need to hide I need to get out I need –

“Margaret, how are you today?”

I turned around and saw a woman standing in the doorway. Her grey, stringy hair

was in a messy bun on top of her head. Her clothes were a mix of different warm colors, and a sense of calm began to wash over me. 

“Margaret. Are you okay?” I looked up and realized I hadn’t responded to her first question. I nod. She smiles. “Okay that’s good. I was afraid I had lost you for a second.” She looked around the room and frowned, “I told them they needed to make this room more welcoming. It causes so much unnecessary stress for the patients.”

As I calm down, I uncurl from my defensive posture. Everything comes back to me. I am here to get better, and this woman is here to help me. But get better from what exactly, I’m not sure of… 

“Margret, you remember me. Correct?” I look up to see the woman and her comforting smile. I nod, finding that my voice won’t cooperate.

“Good, that’s very good. Why don’t you sit down and we can begin our session.” I looked towards the chair in the corner, and a remanence of panic stayed in the back of my head. I tried to ignore it as I sat down. 

They are trying to help me.” I thought to myself. Although looking around the unwelcoming room, seeing the guards with hands-on their tasers, and realizing that the woman’s smile was not in fact warm but fake,  I wasn’t so sure anymore.