The little hairs on her arms stood straight as the cold ran right through her, the aircon blew right down at her almost as if it was looking down at her and all the life mistakes she has made. She was sitting on an armchair which made her feel minuscule with ample space, the armrests towering over her shoulders almost like a barrier from the room. Unlike the aircon, it felt as if though the armchair burrowed her in its softness, letting her sink in. The room with plane four walls just painted in pale white lacked encouragement and peace, it was like an empty canvas. There was a grey table with a computer a similar armchair after the table and a wall shelving on the behind the armchair. There was also an A3 poster on the wall, far but close enough for her to view what it was. It was a simple guide on how to wash your hands properly. She dismissed it as if it was just a hole in the wall.
Her eyes still not at peace kept roaming around the room, trying to find something to clarify where she was. Nonetheless, her thoughts still ran through her head as if it a was a busy intersection during peak hour, “turn off, turn off, turn off” she kept repeating to herself in agony hoping that every time she said it her mind would just shut off instead of bothering her peace. Her hands pressed in her lap and her legs dangling off the armchair she leaned back and looked down to her arms. They were as faint as the walls with dark blue lines of bruising around each arm. These bruises did not bring her pain, nor discomfort. They only brought an eerie ambience and made her little hairs stand on their tippy-toes.
She did not know nor did she understand how she ended up there or what she was doing there. “One, two, three, one two, three” an external voice of a woman joined her thoughts and then it went to “ma’am, ma’am, ma’am. When looked she away from her arms up towards the desk, she saw a dark shadowy figure, and for once at that moment she relaxed her grip loosen, her back arched into a slouch. Her eyes took a minute to adjust and then she realized it was a woman with big brown eyes just concerningly watching her. As her vision got clearer, she heard the woman say in a soft whisper, “Ma’am, you are unwell.” Before she could say anything, everything went pitch black, and then she found comfort in not trying so hard to live.