A/N: To enhance your reading, here are the songs that I listened to while writing this chapter and that helped inspire the tone.
-Hypnotised by Years & Years
-Here by Years & Years
-In the Shadows by Amy Stroup
-Hangman by Selfish Things
-Admit It by Set It Off
-Want by Set It Off
Anyways, enjoy!

EMBERLY'S POV

I stand at the window, my white cotton nightgown gently brushing against my shins.

I miss Andy. I want to be safe in his arms and not trapped here at this religious "treatment" facility. I've been here 2 weeks already. I arrived the day they took me from the hospital in Atlanta. The day they took me from Andy. I remember it clearly still, despite all the meds that make me feel like a zombie.

The officers escorted me to a waiting SUV, directing me into the back. They sit on either side of me, forcing me into the middle. There's an officer in the driver's seat, and in the front passenger seat sits none other than my mother. I snarl, lunging forward, my hands are outstretched to wrap around her neck. The officers on either side of me pull me back.

"There there. Don't worry, you're going to a place that will help you, dear." My mother coos. I growl, pulling against the officers.

"What did you do, you bitch?" I shriek. She looks at me with fake confusion.

"You poor darling. You don't remember? You ran away. Then your sister died and you had a psychotic break. I've been looking for you. You had me worried sick. But don't worry. We're going back to Alabama and Mercy's Grasp has a bed and is expecting you. " I see red. Mercy's Grasp is the treatment center my sister was sent to because she was gay. I lunge forward again, bloodlust in my mind.

"You forged my signature! I swear to God I'll kill you." She leans away as much as the restrictive SUV cab will allow. I see real fear in her eyes for a split second, then it's gone and I feel a needle prick in my leg. My vision begins to fade, along with my consciousness. The cold black engulfs me.

When I wake sometime later, I'm laying on a hard bed in a room I don't recognize. I've been changed out of my sweats and tee and into an ill fitting white nightgown that goes down to my mid shin. It has a few buttons on the front, as well as some lace detailing. It billows around me, making me appear to have no figure whatsoever.

I get up and try the door, but it's locked from the outside. I don't have to wait long before it opens and a man enters. I back into a corner of the nearly empty room, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. Shockingly, he keeps his distance.

"Welcome to Mercy's Grasp. I am Dr. Thompson. I am here to help you find your way back to the righteous path." He informs me.

"Why am I here? I'm not gay." I snap. My sister was sent here because of her sexuality, but I'm straight.

"Mercy's Grasp is a multifunction treatment facility. We help people who have lost their way get back to the path of righteousness." He smiles, and it makes me feel very unsettled.

"I didn't sign any paperwork. You need to let me go, NOW." I try to sound menacing.

"Your mother signed all the paperwork for you, since you are an involuntary admittance." He explains calmly. I can't imagine anyone coming to a place like this of their own will.

"I'm over 18. You can't hold me against my will." I try one last time. He looks down at the clipboard he's been holding the entire time.

"It says here that you won't be 18 for another year." He informs me. His words destroys the last shred of hope I was hanging onto. "Now, it's time for your first therapy session." He comes at me.

I have refused to cooperate. They can do whatever they want to me, but I won't break.

My door opens and Dr. Thompson walks in, accompanied by two burly orderlies.

"Are we going to cooperate today, Miss Vace?" He wants to know. I give him the finger without looking away from the window. I'm grabbed by the orderlies and dragged into the bathroom, stripped, and held under the freezing stream of water for what feels like an eternity. I thrash and scream, but it doesn't do me any good.

They eventually shut the water off and pull my nightgown back over my shivering body. I'm not allowed to wear underwear, so the thin fabric is the only thing protecting me.

Silently, the good doctor leads us down a maze of halls. In my entire two weeks here, I haven't seen any other patients. I know they're here somewhere, but I've been kept isolated except for when I'm at "treatment", which is more like torture. We come to a door that I know all to well. My two wardens drag me inside to the dentist-style chair. Sitting me down roughly, they quickly strap me down by my wrists, ankles, thighs, chest/arms, and head. Then, they begin attaching the electrodes that will shock me while I'm forced to watch a slideshow including everything from alcohol, to the words "free will". The doctor comes over and pries my eyes open before taping them so I can't close them. He begins the slideshow, and with it, the pain.

I endure it as I have been for weeks, until the last slide almost three hours later. The last slide is a picture of Andy's smiling face. The shock that accompanies it is so strong and lasts so long that it elicits a scream before rendering me unconscious.

The image of Andy's face is there in the blackness, keeping me company. For the first time in two weeks, I begin to have hope again.