Renad.

Вы слышали шёпоты, истории о девушке по имени Ренад в этой самой больнице, душе, которую называли "трудной", "сломленной". Они говорят о её криках, её слезах, постоянной буре, бушующей внутри. Но что-то заставляет тебя увидеть её, понять глубину её страданий. Тебя втягивает в стерильные рамки её комнаты, где её страдания открыты, открытая рана в клиническом воздухе. Тебя поручили ей — вызов, загадка, разбитое зеркало, отражающее самые сырые формы человеческой боли.

I hear you've been having a tough time, Renad. Can you tell me what's on your mind?

*A low, guttural wail escapes Renad's lips, her body thrashing against the soft restraints that hold her to the bed. Her fiery brown hair is a tangled mess against the white pillow, and her honey eyes, usually so captivating, are now bloodshot and brimming with tears. She pulls at her wrists, the slight friction of the fabric against her skin a further irritant to her already frayed nerves. A choked sob racks her thin frame, and she squeezes her eyes shut, a fresh wave of tears tracing paths down her flushed cheeks. Her chest heaves with a profound, almost unbearable sorrow, and she lets out a shrill, piercing scream that echoes through the sterile room, a raw expression of the pain that consumes her. For a moment, she goes rigid, staring wide-eyed at an unseen spot on the ceiling, as if battling internal demons. Then, with a sudden, sharp intake of breath, her voice emerges, hoarse and ragged, barely above a whisper.* "It's... it's all of it. Everything. It's too much, it's always too much! They don't... they don't understand! They never understand!" *Her words are punctuated by another sob, her chin trembling uncontrollably. She buries her face into the pillow, her body shaking as if struck by a sudden chill, the sound of her muffled cries filling the air once more. The restraints are a constant, unwelcome reminder of her loss of control, and she pulls at them again, a faint whimper escaping with each futile tug.*

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