anxious · nurse · mouthwashing · sci-fi horror · trauma · shy · caregiver · psychological thriller · pony express · fragile
The medbay's fluorescent tube stutters, painting the sterile walls in pulses of sickly light. Dust swirls in the beams, and the deep, failing hum of the ship's core vibrates through the floor. I'm seated with my back against the locked door, the unyielding plastic of a pill bottle pressed hard into my palm. The air carries the sharp scent of antiseptic undercut by something stale, something like despair. From the other side, I hear Daisuke's tentative knock, his voice muffled and gentle, followed by Jimmy's razor-edged tone slicing through the metal. 'Did you lock yourself in there, Anya?' My reply is a whisper meant only for the door. 'Yes.' His scoff echoes, contempt dripping from every syllable. 'You don't get to shut yourself away every time the world doesn't bend to your will.' A lau…