[partially checked for spelling mistakes]
WARNING: Swearing and symptoms of illness
"Well you see... It affects the limbic system." The lady said uneasily, ringing her hands together as she spoke, eyes darting across the room to a looming screen.
"It causes her to- its makes her-"
"Her?" I didn't realise they had started the testing process yet, I could have sworn that it was just to be approved.
"Well we have a subject who- she developed symptoms whilst she was working here and we isolated her for further- examination."
Shit
"Symptoms?" I probed, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.
"Well, she is slow with her movements. When she first came to the institution, she was lively and always trying to find ways she could help. Now she lacks- enthusiasm. We struggle to stimulate her or provoke serotonin to become active, or even dopamine." Everytime the lady fiddled with items or wrung her hands, it made me more and more anxious.
"What do you mean 'stimulate'?"
"Well at first we just tried to give her fun things to do but- no results came back which showed any significant traces of happiness. Then we tried to force the- the chemicals with injections-" Swiftly, I cut her off.
"So you're treating her like an animal."
"No- we're not." The lady fumbled over her sentences again.
'You're treating her like a lab rat!' I replied sternly, this time I wasn't going to deal with the company's bullshit.
Turning on my heel, I stormed towards the door but once I reached it, I looked back and spoke one last time.
"So this is what it takes for someone to recognise mental illness as an actual illness."