| Proof Of Existence

𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄 

I lay still while the man who claimed to be the doctor moved around the bed, looking at me, inspecting me, touching me. I hated being touched but could do nothing to fight it. All I could do was be the meek slave I had been programmed to be. Submission, obedience, acceptance, it had all been beaten into me. It was solidified into my psyche through cruelty. Years of abuse and pain had shaped and molded me into the well-trained empty vessel I was today.

To obey was my only talent.

To please was my only purpose.

To exist without living was my only fate.

And even now as I found myself in this unfamiliar place with all these strange people, I didn't make the foolish mistake of thinking this might finally be my chance to get pulled out of the deep pit I had been in for so, so long. I was in hell, no matter where I went.

"Jane," the doctor stilled beside me, "what happened to you, girl?"