Chapter 4 - Chained

Ava's POV

 

When I slowly opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was the ceiling, which appeared a bit blurry. Confusion washed over me, and I turned my head to the side, only to find my aunt sitting nearby.

"Welcome back. But for now, just relax, because you have a lot of explaining to do," she said before leaving the room, her voice and expression filled with anger.

I tried to piece together my memories, but my head throbbed, making it difficult to recall the last events before everything went dark.

"I was trying to escape... I remember trying to shape-shift, and then..." I started to explain, sitting up with my back against the wall.

The door suddenly swung open, and the doctor walked in—the same one who had been monitoring me without my consent.

"Don't be too hard on yourself, and don't strain your mind trying to remember. It's important for your mental well-being," he reassured me as he approached, holding medical instruments.

"Can you tell me how I ended up here? Do you have any idea who called my aunt?" I asked, my voice unsteady. The doctor, in response, looked me over before using a stethoscope to check my heartbeat.

"A good Samaritan brought you in very late last night. He claimed not to know you, but we used your cellphone to contact someone familiar," he explained. I opened my mouth to respond, but he gestured for me to lie down before continuing.

I sighed, realizing that my phone didn't have a password, making it easy for them to access. "Aunt Janet is going to kill me," I muttered under my breath as tears welled up in my eyes. Meeting Horland had felt like a dream, especially after he rejected me. Right now, I regretted coming back to Lyconia.

"The best thing you can do now is to get some rest and not overthink things. Your aunt will come around," the doctor tried to console me.

"You don't get it, do you?" I choked out, my voice cracking. "I ran away from home, to somewhere far, far away, and now I'm back in this mess. How do you expect me to cope, doc? How?" My voice grew louder before I lowered it to a whisper, tears spilling down my face.

"I know you're feeling overwhelmed," the doctor said calmly. "I don’t know what you've been through, but I’m telling you that you need to take it easy. That’s the only way you’ll be okay. You’ll be discharged by evening. For now, rest while I speak to your aunt."

Still tearful, I asked, "You mean Aunt Janet is still here? I... I thought she had left."

"Her medication will take time to work, and you'll need to provide funds for her treatment," the doctor explained. "She's asleep now, but she’ll be discharged this evening. Make sure she rests and doesn’t worry too much."

He left the room, and I was left with the weight of my thoughts.

Later, as Aunt Janet spoke with the doctor, I heard her sigh with relief. "I'm thankful she's not pregnant," she said. I bit my lip, my heart sinking. I knew she was worried about me, but it didn't make the situation any easier.

"Thank you, Doctor," Aunt Janet replied. "We'll make sure she gets the rest and care she needs."

The doctor handed her my discharge papers. "You're welcome. I hope Ava recovers soon. If you have any questions or concerns, don't hesitate to reach out. Take care."

Aunt Janet thanked him again and came to my room to take me home.

The car ride was painfully silent. I stared at my chicken stew, unable to enjoy it as guilt and anxiety gnawed at me. Aunt Janet avoided eye contact, and I couldn’t help but feel like I had let her down.

When we finally arrived home, I broke the silence. "Aunt Janet, I’m really sorry for everything. I shouldn’t have run away. I’ll make it up to you."

She glanced at me, a flicker of disappointment in her eyes. "Ava, we’ll talk about it later. Right now, you need to rest and recover. We’ll sort everything out."

I nodded, realizing she was still upset but willing to give me a chance.

"You can go into your room. I’ll be back soon," was all she said before walking away.

Later, a knock landed on the door. I rushed to open it, and there stood Aunt Janet, her face hard with resolve.

"I won’t allow you to leave again without my consent," she barked. Before I could react, she shackled me with a thick chain laced with wolfsbane—strong enough to hold me even on a full moon.

"Aunt, why are you doing this? I’m sorry," I pleaded, my heart pounding. But my words fell on deaf ears.

"I’ve trusted you enough, and I won’t let you end up like your parents," she snapped. "Talking to you is pointless. You’ll stay here until I know you’re ready to change. You’ll resume your therapy sessions!"

With that, she stormed off, leaving me chained to the wall, helpless and overwhelmed with despair.