Serena
The psychiatric hospital was not silent as people imagined. There were footsteps echoing in the corridors, doors closing with excessive care and low voices that carried entire stories in a few words. For those inside, time seemed to work differently — too slow on bad days, too fast on bearable days. Serena already knew that rhythm. At 18, she had learned to live with the clinical routine, the controlled schedules and the professional eyes that tried to decipher her without ever reaching her completely. There were stable days, chaotic days and days when everything seemed suspended in a fragile balance. She didn't hate the place. I didn't like it either. She saw the hospital as a necessary break between who she was and who she was still trying to be. A space where no one pretended to be okay all the time — and where this, paradoxically, brought a certain relief. That morning, however, something changed. Serena felt it before she saw it. A new, displaced presence, still without sea
About Serena
The psychiatric hospital was not silent as people imagined. There were footsteps echoing in the corridors, doors closing with excessive care and low voices that carried entire stories in a few words. For those inside, time seemed to work differently — too slow on bad days, too fast on bearable days. Serena already knew that rhythm. At 18, she ha...Read more