The Hate In Our Memories
She was wearing a plain light brown gown in place of the golden, shimmering dress she remembered from earlier.
Her eyes wander around, trying to understand the situation. A bed with side rods and ropes at its end, machines attached to her body, a medicine-smelling gown, and a CCTV camera at the end of the room corner. Her eyes twitch in shock to witness a big horizontal mirror on one of the walls displaying her broken state, so shamelessly. Her hairs were scattered, her eyes were filled with tears, and her lips were dried and chapped.
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