The video call from yesterday left me rattled.
By morning, I couldn’t sleep. Figured some fresh air might clear my head, so I headed downstairs.
The second I stepped outside–bam–an ambulance was parked right there by the building.
I thought, ‘Huh, someone must’ve had a medical emergency. Kept walking.‘
Then, out of nowhere, two guys in white coats bolted toward me. One on each side, grabbing my arms.
“Ma’am, don’t panic! We’re here to help. Your schizophrenia can be treated!” one of them blurted.
Wait–what?! My brain short–circuited. “Excuse me?! Who even are you? Why are you grabbing me?”
“Your son called us,” the other guy jumped in. “Said you’ve been wandering around, not coming home. That you’ve been scammed out of all your money.”
“We have your medical report,” the first guy said. “You’ll be safe with us.”
Their words were smooth, but their grip tightened, steering me toward the ambulance.
I jerked back, thrashing. “I’m not sick! Let me go! This is kidnapping! I’m calling the police!”
