Manuscript Glimpse

(just a tiny peek into the middle of the story)

She stared at the stubborn door, rubbed her wrist as if it had been stung and tried to breathe. 
A voice growled at her from the shadows. “What are you doing?” 
Meg yelped and again pirouetted to face the room. 
Bridget stood scowling at her with her hands clenched in fists at her sides.
Meg's mouth went dry.  
“What are you doing?” Bridget demanded again.  She, too, wore a robe, but this made her no less formidable.  “Do you want to ruin everything?” Bridget strode over to her and took her arm.
Meg didn't know what to say.  She didn't think it was possible to be any more afraid than she was at this moment, but then-
“What is going on in here? What is the meaning of this?”
Dr. Jacobs. 
Meg felt the blood drain from her face.  She thought she might faint. 
Bridget angled her face toward Meg.  “Shut up and leave him to me,” she hissed in her ear through clenched teeth.  
Bridget turned back to Dr. Jacobs. Her voice was saturated with disdain, “She's sleepwalking.  She wandered all the way to the door and her bracelet set off the alarm.” 
Bridget sounded so confident and annoyed that Meg herself was nearly convinced, but her eyes flicked to her wrist. 
My bracelet sets off an alarm?
Dr. Jacobs seemed satisfied. He straightened his pricey looking robe and looked down his nose at them. 
“Take her back to her room,” he said irritably, “give her something to help her sleep if she needs it.” He turned and marched away with his nose in the air. 
Bridget kept a firm hand on Meg's arm as she steered her back to her room. Meg's head felt abuzz with all of the questions this night had produced. It was too much.  It was finally too much. Her brain had reached it's limit and could no longer contain it all. Next would be the inevitable psychotic break and she would become truly insane. 
Bridget pulled off Meg's robe and maneuvered her into her bed. 
The fog in her mind cleared only enough for one word to form on her tongue. 
Bridget looked at her, her expression grim.  She reached into her pocket. 
“I'm sorry, Meg.  This is for your own good.”  
Before she even realized what was happening, Meg felt the pinch in her neck where Bridget's needle found her vein.  The darkness swallowed her whole.

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