Chapter 5 A Mental Institution

Olivia's POV: "Olivia Fedorov, it's time for your medication." Since that day, Peter had confined me to a small mental institution, and the doctor responsible for diagnosing my mental condition had already been bribed by him. They claimed I suffered from schizophrenia. But I knew full well that I wasn't sick at all. This was all part of a plot between Peter and Vanessa. At first, when I arrived at the hospital, I refused to take the medication. In response, the doctors and nurses would pay special attention to me, locking me in a small, unmonitored room and subjecting me to various forms of abuse. The terrifying electroshock therapy made me feel as though I were teetering on the edge of death. I realized that I had no choice but to comply. I had to stay alive—only by surviving could I exact my revenge on my dad. As expected, once I began taking the medication, the abuse from the doctors and nurses diminished significantly. They probably believed that, under the influence of the drugs, my nervous system had been damaged. The most apparent symptom was that I no longer resisted them, and my movements became sluggish, almost as if I were in a stupor. In reality, I was merely pretending. I noticed that the nurse bringing my medication was a newcomer. She preferred to cut corners and didn't bother checking if the patients had actually swallowed their pills. So, I began hiding the tablets under my tongue, waiting for her to leave before spitting them out and flushing them down the toilet. "So, she's the daughter of the Fedorov family? She's actually quite a beauty, but look at how they've tortured her," the new nurse murmured as she walked away, gossiping with a colleague. "Did you hear? The Fedorov family went bankrupt! It's all over the media. And of course, there are the scandalous photos of Ms. Fedorov's affair." "Oh my goodness! Her fiancé, Mr. Peter, is such a handsome gentleman. What were these wealthy young women thinking? I heard the man she cheated with was a male escort from a nightclub. Her dad was so enraged when he found out that he had a stroke and died before he could even reach the hospital..." As the two nurses moved farther away, their voices gradually faded. I overheard vital information. Peter had managed to pin everything on me, while still maintaining his image as the suave, gentle gentleman in the public eye. I would make Peter and Vanessa pay! The overwhelming urge for revenge only fueled my desperation to escape. I had to find a way out. Just then, I suddenly heard screams from outside. Someone was shouting, "Fire! There's a fire!" Doctors and nurses were scrambling in panic, trying to evacuate the patients. I stood by the door, shouting through the small window, "Here! Here! There's someone else!" The doctors and nurses heard my cries for help, but they ignored me. They didn't even glance in my direction. It immediately dawned on me. This fire had to have been set by Vanessa, with the intent of burning me alive! The mental hospital accidentally caught fire, and some patients who couldn't escape perished in the blaze. I could already picture Vanessa using this as the perfect excuse. Soon, thick smoke started to fill the room through the cracks in the window. "Peter, Vanessa, I curse you both, you scoundrel! May you burn in hell for all eternity!" The smoke thickened, and I sat on the edge of the bed, my eyes burning with hatred as I stared at the door. If I were to die here, I would become a vengeful spirit, relentlessly haunting Peter and Vanessa! I knew, deep down, that I wouldn't survive. I would suffocate from the thick smoke. Exhausted, I collapsed to the floor, tears streaming down my face. Neither universe nor I could save myself now. All I could do was hope that the demons of hell would hear my curse and allow me to become a malevolent spirit after my death. With a loud bang, the door to the room seemed to open. As death loomed near, I struggled to lift my head, only to see the devil himself come to escort me to hell...