High-Security Psychiatric Hospital Cell
The cell was cold and musty, with the paint peeling away from the stone walls. The echoing sounds of other patients' screams and muttering filled the quiet emptiness that otherwise would have been. The silence was worse than the screams. I could hear a scratching sound; I couldn't tell if it was rats or a person. My skin felt itchy in the uniform they had made me wear. The smell of body odour and insanity hung in the air as I lay on the firm, uncomfortable, metal bed.
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