Passionate Vengeance Read Online Free Page A

differentiate between reality and her dreams, though she had to admit over the last twenty-four hours things had cleared up significantly. She no longer thought she was hallucinating being trapped in a nightmarish hell. She now knew that was part of her new reality.
    Strapped down to the hospital style bed, Abigail regretted the many horror movies she’d so enjoyed in her youth. And the manner with which the nurses and doctors treated her like an imbecile was insulting, though when she’d tried to point it out to them, she’d been ignored like a naughty child. Worse, Dr Harper had evidently told them she was a threat to herself as much as them.
    It was ridiculous. Her world had been turned upside down, and those to whom she would have instinctively approached looking for some help—the nurses, orderlies and doctors who professed to be on her side, for starters—refused to believe her when she’d said she was fine and wanted to go home.
    At first she had been calm, trying to explain things.
    “I’m not the least suicidal, I just want to go home. I’ve been unwell and wanted some medicine…”
    Pitying glances, murmurs of ‘Denial is not the sign of a healthy mind, Abigail’, and other condescension had met her rational requests. So she had become frustrated—who wouldn’t in similar circumstances?—and she had shouted, had screamed to be let out or at least be able to plead her case with the doctor.
    “Who do you think sent you to us for assistance?” had been their reply to that.
    When Abigail had gasped, had insisted they’d lied, they had parroted Dr Harper’s phone number, email address and personal details to her and had insisted it had been he who had committed her ‘for her own good’.
    The entire situation was nightmarish. Abigail half believed it had been they who had made her so sick that first night. Certainly she was inundated with crazy, frightening dreams every time she fell into an exhausted sleep—or worse, when they sedated her, but if she’d had a fever earlier it had long passed and now she simply wanted to get out of there.
    “I’m not crazy, I’m not crazy, I am definitely not crazy,” she repeated to herself softly enough to not be overheard. Should one of the nurses, or syringe-happy doctors hear her reassuring herself of such a thing they’d certainly pump her full of their favourite drugs.
    Her wrists were chafed raw from her trying to get out of the restraints, but still she tried to tug herself free. Unable to contain the whimper that escaped, she struggled again. Trembling in mingled fear and anger she stopped, realising escape was only a useless fantasy. She tried to compose herself.
    Never had she been so helpless before, or so completely at other’s mercy. She hadn’t wanted to be in a situation like this, but now she knew for a fact she simply couldn’t cope with being restrained. She loathed the knowledge that she was so powerless, unable to do so much as scratch her nose should she have the desire. The entire situation sucked and a part of her mind continually screamed in terror.
    What would happen should there be a fire? Should someone come in to harm her? She’d not ever before lost her independence so thoroughly. The entire situation petrified her. Abigail breathed slowly, forcing herself to have faith something miraculous would occur.
    Calming herself as best as she could, Abby gathered every scrap of information she’d been able to assimilate and overhear. She was being held on a seventy-two-hour suicide watch. Dr Harper was supposed to have come and seen her today, to ‘gauge her mental state’, but gossip amongst the orderlies who had washed the floor of her room before dinner had indicated something big had occurred at one of his other clinics and he’d been unable to get away.
    Part of her was terrified she’d scream and shout at him, lose control totally and he’d have her committed fully. Losing so many of her basic human privileges had her on