Torrie was already feeling a lot better. She and Jeff were at a small cafe across from their hotel, chatting and leisurely sipping some drinks.
"So, you see," the colorful-headed young man was saying, "people have always regarded me as different, too. Well, as a freak, to be perfectly honest." He nursed his cup of coffee and shook his head. "But I never, ever let that get to me."
The blonde diva laughed softly, enjoying herself. He certainly had a way with words. She'd always known that Jeff Hardy was an eccentric, unique individual, but 'freak' was about the last adjective she would use to describe him. He was intelligent, insightful and downright intriuging... She laughed inwardly at her thoughts. What was she doing, creating her very own 'Three I's' for him, like Kurt Angle would have done?
"Well, I can certainly relate to you, Jeff," she said. She grew somewhat sad as she gazed down into her own cup of coffee. "I know I've definitely felt like a freak these last few months." She shook her head, the sadness and lack of comprehension over her recent fate flooding back and overwhelming her. "I don't understand it... I don't understand how I could have been put in such a position." Unbitten, a bitter and terrifying memory came back to her.
It was the same night she'd been put into the godforsaken place. Cambridge Manor had a ring of beauty to it, but the same was so deceiving. After all, it wasn't a beautiful, grand mansion but a mental institution.
Torrie kicked and screamed, crying all the way as the EMTs, or whatever they were, carried her out of the ambulance. What were they planning on doing to her? This could not be happening! She was in a strange town, with a bunch of people she didn't know, and she had to go home! Why were they doing this?
She tried to flee the moment they set her on the ground but didn't get far as a man ran after her. Forcibly, he picked her up, placing her onto an awaiting stretcher. Her wrists were still shackled by a set of handcuffs.
"Please!" she begged, her voice filled with misery. "What are you going to do to me?"
She was strapped onto the stretcher. Suddenly unable to move save for raising her head.
"We're going to help you, Miss Wilson."
Help, my ass! Torrie thought, and she screamed the moment they wheeled her into the huge building. To her horror, as she glanced around, it was all clear to her.
"Why am I here? I'm not crazy!"
No one bothered to respond this time as she was wheeled into a tiny room. She raised her head as best she could, and her eyes widened. She looked up, beseechingly, at whoever happened to be there assisting her.
"N-No... Please d-don't do this to me."
Her pleas went ignored as she was suddenly freed from the stretcher. Two men, who were most likely orderlies, carried the horrified woman to the table - the hideously ugly table with straps at either end.
She thrashed again as they unlocked her handcuffs, actually catching one man in the face with her left hand. He swore loudly didn't didn't hit her back. In Torrie's mind, that would have been a better alternative than what actually did happen.
She was strapped down and merely left there to scream and cry. The men walked out without a word, and she found herself feeling more terrified than she could ever remember in her life. Why was this happening to her?
"Hey, it's okay," Jeff said, bringing her back from the horrible memory. He was knelt by her right side, his left hand gently stroking up and down her arm.
Only then did Torrie realize she was silently crying, as she felt a tear trickle its salty way down her cheek and into her mouth. She gazed down at him with tragedy in her eyes.
Their waitress came over in a hurry. She eyed the blonde with sympathy.
"Is there anything I can get you?"
"Yeah," the young man answered, "just the check... Please." He turned back to Torrie and eyed her plaintively. "It's okay, Tor," he murmured. "You're safe. We'll just get out of here and back to the hotel, okay?"
She nodded, but the tears kept coming. Somehow, she seemed powerless to stop them.
"You can tell me all about it," Jeff offered. "It'll make you feel better." She hadn't told him what was
bothering her at that precise moment, but he knew it had to be her experience, her time at that damn facility. He
would stake his life on it.