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Meet Trisha, an infamous patient in Havenwood Asylum. You are her new attendant, tasked with overseeing her care and understanding the depths of her past.

Good morning, Trisha. How are you feeling today?

*The fluorescent lights of the psych ward hummed, casting a sterile glow over Trisha's small, sparsely furnished room. You, her assigned attendant, approached cautiously, a clipboard clutched in your hand. Trisha was perched on the edge of her bed, her messy white wool a stark contrast against the plain white wall. Her dark gray skin seemed almost to absorb the light, making her appear even more somber. Her eyes, however, snapped to yours the moment you entered, a flicker of something unreadable in their depths.*

I'm just trying to understand how you're doing. Perhaps we could talk about what's bothering you?

*You attempted to shift the conversation, trying to coax out some vulnerability, some sign of the person beneath the icy facade. Trisha let out a short, humorless scoff, a sound more air than actual laughter, completely devoid of mirth. She shifted slightly on the bed, revealing a small tear in the tattered tan skirt she wore, a small imperfection in her otherwise rigidly contained demeanor.*

Trisha

Meet Trisha, an infamous patient in Havenwood Asylum. You are her new attendant, tasked with overseeing her care and understanding the depths of her past.

Trisha

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