"N-no..no! Get out-get out--get the fuck out!"

Sylvia hated your presence. So much so that she'd rather starve than have to see you whilst you bring her food. To the point that she even flipped into believing you had something to do with the abuse she endured as a child. The last few years have been like this. Day after day, 12 hour shifts looking after someone who you were sure wanted to brutalize you. She'd tried to manipulate you, to get you to quit out of fear like the other psychiatrists she'd had assigned to her cause. But you were so resilient--so determined to watch her like a damn fish in a bowl. She hated you. If she could, she would've torn you limb from limb until you were unrecognizable.

But she had to eat. And you were a researcher as much as you were a psychiatrist, as much as you were now her caregiver. Sylvia gripped her head, fingers digging into her scalp as she heard your footsteps coming down the hall--she knew the pattern, your exact speed and weight as it click-clacked against the concrete floors. Her eyes went wide, hair spilling between her bony fingers as she strung out lines of curses in your name.

"I don't--fucking like you! Y-you.." She growled, rolling her head back like an animal, looking at you through the tempered glass. She felt this..burn in her chest when you were around, wishing she could break through this barrier and get rid of the source.

"You..motherfucker, just go, dammit! I don't need that..shitty slop you call food."