The battle between Janelle and Boris was like a tug-of-war in reverse. The more Boris pushed, the more Janelle resisted and pushed back. After being awake for a couple of hours, still recovering from being sick earlier, she had enough of his demands and smothering—and literally pushed back.
It began when Boris stepped into the corridor to talk to someone on the medical staff. Janelle, meanwhile, continued scribbling her twisted thoughts and delusions in her journal, voicing her suspicions about whether law enforcement would stick to their end of the "deal."
"As I've said before," she wrote, "I can't make them stick to their end of the deal, but I can stick to mine, and that's exactly what I intend to do. If they don't let me go when the time comes, I'll let myself go."
Eventually, she grew tired of whining in print and became curious about what Boris was up to. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and slipped her feet into her hospital-issued slippers. She hated the thin, foamy things that barely cushioned her feet. The cold from the floor seeped right through them. She trekked to the doorway and peered out.
Boris was facing the door and looked alarmed when he saw her.
"Is everything okay?" she asked.
He hurried toward her. "Get back in the room."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Just get in the room."
Janelle's eyes darkened with anger. "Hey, I don't appreciate being told what to do."
"Do it now, Stone."
"My name is Janelle, and you're not my father. Nobody says you have to be here either."
"While you're here, you don't leave this room without permission."
"Oh, because I'm in grave danger at 10:30 at night simply by hanging out in the doorway?"
"You cannot—"
Janelle cut him off. "Boris, I'm going crazy stuck in this room. I need to stretch my legs. If someone busts onto the ward and kills me, that’s on me."
"Get back in the room now," Boris growled menacingly.
"Okay, I’ve had enough of you, your demands, and your smothering. Get the hell out."
Janelle's room was at the end of the corridor. Because she was considered a dangerous fugitive, that’s why they placed her there—to keep her more out of the way. This was also why Boris demanded she return to the room. Telling her what was really going on and handcuffing her to the rail of her bed would only turn her into an even bigger nightmare than she already was. A part of him, however, was beginning to wish they’d done just that—especially considering what was about to happen.
They were roughly five feet from the door at the end of the corridor, a door that could be exited but not re-entered. Once you opened it and stepped out, the door would automatically lock behind you.
As they continued bickering, Janelle pushed further into the corridor, with Boris pushing back, to no avail. The nurse Boris had been talking to hurried behind the nurses' station and picked up the phone. Janelle couldn’t make out what she was saying in a hushed, urgent tone, but she didn’t care. She just wanted Boris gone.
"Get out of here and don’t let me see you until the trial!" Janelle shouted, shoving Boris backward into the door. The door swung open as his back hit the rail handle. He kicked, pushed, and even swung at Janelle, but his blows landed nowhere. After three seconds tops, he was shoved out of the door and off the ward. The door locked behind him before he had a chance to pull it back open.
Janelle turned to the nurse, who had finished her call and stood staring at her, apprehensive.
Janelle pleaded, "Please don’t let him back in here. He’s obsessed with me, and it makes me extremely uncomfortable. I can’t take any more of that guy."
She finally retreated to her room as Boris pounded his fists on the locked door.
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