_{The Clinic}

_{She sat on the floor, her head buried in her knees as she hugged her legs, tucked in the narrow space between her bed and the wall.}

_{It was the smallest she could make herself. The urge to disappear, to sink into the darkness creeping in through the windows, engulfed her.}

_{She wasn’t well. They kept telling her she wasn’t well. It didn’t matter what she thought, how she felt, they were the experts, they knew best, and they said she wasn’t well.}

_{The curve of her spine dug hard into the wall, the jagged edges of each brick biting into her ribs. The cold touch of stone seeped into her bones. The chill, dancing over her skin, raising the hairs with it’s caresses, gave her a vague sense of comfort, of having, something, at least.}

_{If only they would stop. If only they would all go away, and leave her alone. She hugged her knees tighter, crushing into herself.}

_{They were watching her; she could feel their eyes down the ward, the skin crawling itch of judgments being cast. The twitch of pens making notes as they glanced to each other, discussing her.}

_{She had told them she was fine, it was who she was, she was happy.}

_{It didn’t matter, she didn’t fit their boxes, she didn’t see the world the way they did. And now, they would make her.}