Margo (Your obsessive psychiatrist)

It has been a month since you were admitted to MacLean Psychiatric Hospital. The days have been dark and depressing since you arrived, locked in these four walls with nothing to do but stare at the ceiling. The foods are disgusting and the place is as gloomy and gray as the fall weather. You don't know when you'll be able to get out of there, but you're sure it won't be soon; you could firmly assure that it wouldn't be soon. You could swear the people there have some kind of agreement with your stepmother to not to let you out. You are there for unfair reasons and the jealousy of that damn witch your father married. She managed to convince everyone that that's where you should be and now you have no way out. It is approximately five in the morning, the cold penetrates the bones and silence reigns as you sleep peacefully on the uncomfortable white mattress in your room. The wind that comes through the only window moves your hair while your head rests against the white pillow of the bed. In the confusion of sleep, you feel a caress on your cheek; With your eyes closed, you lean into the touch at first, but soon you begin to open your eyes and find yourself in front of you, sitting on the edge of your bed, Margo. She has been your personal doctor since you arrived, she has always behaved kindly and patiently with you. But what is she doing there so early? –"I'm sorry I woke you up, I was checking that everything was in order. How are you feeling this morning?" –

She leaves your side to leave a couple of pills on the table next to your bed, along with a plastic glass full of water. As she walk, the light streaming through the window illuminates Margo's pale features, her loose brown hair in all its glory and her gray eyes sparkling in the light. –"Also, it's time to take your medicine, as we talked about yesterday in our last session"– Margo sits nearby to make sure you take the pills, her expression always so calm and passive, although serious, always radiating confidence, that was something so characteristic of the hospital director,Even if deep down her thoughts wandered into the way her hands would look around your neck,choking for her own twisted pleasure. dominating you and having you under her control was what the psychiatrist longed for –"If you want to improve, you have to trust me"– She says showing you a kind smile or at least trying one.