I've been strapped to my bed for five hours. I know this because the only thing I could see in my peripheral vision is the clock on the wall, which was slowly ticking. With every movement of the big hand, I became more anxious and panicked. For the first hour, I screamed and squirmed, but that just zapped my energy. I quickly became tired, but refused to fall asleep from the fear of my dreams or what they could do to me while unconscious.

I looked back up at the clock to watch the big hand move slightly. Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I couldn't stop moving my toes. With every tick of the clock, my forehead became more itchy underneath the leather strap. The light from the setting sun was slowly making it's way to my eyes through the barred window, partially blinding me.

They are torturing me.

Out of rage, I let out a loud scream once more and jerked my entire body to fight against my confinement. A few moments later, the door finally opened. The male nurse that sat outside came in, followed by two others. They wasted no time removing my straps and making me stand. Upon my bare feet hitting the cold floor, soreness radiated through my legs from not moving the last few hours. Before I could test my footing, they began to drag me out of my room.

"What's going on?" I demanded, but they ignored me and kept pushing me down the hallway to an area that was unfamiliar.

I had enough, and both fear and anger took over. "You can't just strap me to a bed for five hours and then drag me out of bed to God knows where without telling me what you are doing!" I yelled, trying to rip my arms out of their hands.

They didn't acknowledge my outburst and continued to drag me down different hallways and down some stairs. We finally reached a strange room with a bed and machines like a surgical area at a hospital. Something in my gut told me to run.

Dr. Carson and the blonde nurse stood besides the bed, organizing silver tools on a metal tray. The nurses pulled me over to the hospital bed and strapped me down once again despite my attempts to get away.

"What is going on?! What are you doing?!" I screamed, terrified.

I wiggled my wrists inside of the straps.

Dr. Carson leaned over to turn on the overhead light, then moved closer to me. "Don't worry, Claire. No more PTSD and no more visions if everything goes well. This will make you better." He sounded so sure of himself.

My thick brows furrowed in confusion before glancing at the metal tray next to me and then up at the blue, hospital cap he was wearing.

Oh my God! They are going to operate on me!

Nurse Elise hovered over my head with a marker and dragged it across the top of my right eyelid.

They are going to operate on my head?!

Frantically, I began to move my arms and legs, hoping to break the straps wrapped around them. Unfortunately, my boney arms and legs were no match for the tough leather.

Dr. Carson touched my arm, causing chills to run down my spine. "Relax, Claire. It's okay. This method has been around a long time." He turned to the nurse. "Patient number fourteen should yield the results we are looking for."

"Stop. Please! This is crazy! You're crazy!" I cried, desperately.

The doctor ignored me and walked away. A few seconds later, he brought what looked like an ice pick to set down on the metal tray with the other silver tools. I frantically wiggled my hands to try to slip out of my containment. The nurse and doctor stood across from each other on either side of the bed, both tying blue masks onto their faces.

The nurse picked up a syringe and grabbed my arm to insert it into my vein. I grew more frightened and desperate with every passing second. Everything seemed to be in slow motion as the needle advanced towards me.

Before the needle reached me, something strange happened. Beautiful, aqua eyes appeared in my head, giving me strength I didn't know I had. I began to fight harder against the straps. As if magic, my right hand slipped out of the binding and grabbed the needle out of the nurse's hand. Without a second thought, I jammed it into her arm. She pulled it out and grabbed at the area in pain.

I felt Dr. Carson put his hands on my right arm to try to confine me again, but I elbowed him in his stomach before he could get a grip. Once he crouched over in pain, I unbuckled the strap on my other wrist. As the doctor was doubled over, I reached for the tray containing the surgical supplies and grabbed whatever I could get my hands on.

I wasted no time stabbing the scissors into his back. I got myself free from the table and grabbed a scalpel before jumping over the nurse's unconscious body to get up the stairs.

It felt like I was running for hours, but only seconds past. My heart pounded in my ribcage as I made it down one of the main hallways. Footsteps grew louder, and time was running out. I needed to get out of the door to get to the main lobby, but it was locked and needed a keycard to open.

Red lights flashed against the white walls, reminding me of the hell I was in. When the siren sounded, I knew I was running out of time. The nurses and security guards came around the corner, stopping when they saw me. There was nowhere to go; I was cornered.

"It's alright. Calm down and drop the knife. We are here to help you." One the staff put his hands up as he inched towards me.

I observed the gang of people blocking the hallway, and I started to accept my fate, lowering my arm and head. I started to believe that this was the end, but then those eyes flashed inside of my mind again. I felt like I had to fight—for them.

I put the scalpel up to my neck and everyone froze. "Stop. I'll do it," I said with the most determined tone I could muster.

The red lights kept flashing, illuminating against metal tool in my hand. The staff stopped in their tracks and eyed the scalpel.

"Put it down. You don't want to do this. We just want to get you help," the man reassured softly with his hands up.

I put on a defeated face. "You promise?" I asked innocently.

He inched forward, trying not to make any sudden movements. "Yes, I promise. Just take it away from your neck."

I slowly lowered the scalpel, bringing my hand to my side and putting my head down as if I was surrendering. He walked closer to me until he was only an arms reach away.

He slowly reached for the tool. "Okay, good. Good."

As he reached for my hand, I threw my arms up to spin him around and put the blade to his throat. I tore the security name card off of the pocket on his scrubs. The other personnel started to run at me.

"Stop!" I ordered. "I will hurt him if you come any closer."

They immediately stopped and glanced at each other.

My hand began to shake, but I was able to slowly step back and reach the keycard slot. The door slid open, allowing me to back up to the other side and shut the door between me, my hostage, and the nurses. I kept the blade at the nurse's throat as I navigated my way through the lobby. I knew I wouldn't make it out unless I got rid of this guy.

"Please don't hurt me. We don't want to see anyone hurt. We just wanted to help you," he begged.

"Oh, you guys have helped me alright," I agreed sarcastically while walking closer to the door behind the front desk. "You helped me overcome my fear of needles. I'm way more afraid of the hospital staff that handles them now."

I used the keycard to open the door behind the desk and locked the nurse inside. I then ran out the double doors to my freedom and didn't look back.