prompt: standing still
word count: 199
suffer the needle chill
she's running to stand still
- U2, 'Running to Stand Still'
[17 May 1992]
"Don't! Don't you fucking touch me!"
They dragged her through the doorway kicking and screaming, red hair thrashing every which way. She managed to bite one of the attendants before they could get the needle in her arm.
Mary stood against the wall, expression strangely blank. "This is for your own good, Ange," she said sombrely.
The tranquilliser was creeping through Angela's veins but it did nothing to quiet the rage in her eyes as she looked at Mary. Much worse than the anger was the hurt.
"I had to, Ange. You tried—" Her voice broke and she turned her head a moment, wiped her cheek under the guise of brushing hair from her face. "I can't help you. They can help you."
"I won't forget this, Mary," she spat as they tightened the restraints.
"Maybe not. But I hope you'll forgive me, someday."
"I'll come and visit you tomorrow."
"Don't. I don't want to see you. I hate you."
"I'm sorry, Ange." Mary left quietly without looking back.
Standing under the glaring fluorescent lighting in the hallway, Mary wiped her eyes and tried to convince herself she was doing the right thing.