Chaos Girl Rewrites the Script novel Chapter 335

The man sitting across from Aurelia was an old acquaintance, though he looked much younger now.

He maintained a calm demeanor. "Ms. Ravenshire, we've already done extensive neurological testing on you. All the results indicate that there's absolutely nothing wrong."

"No. Your tests must be flawed. There is definitely something wrong with me." Aurelia refused to give up, her voice taking on a pleading tone. "Could you just prescribe me some medication? I looked it up online—Risperidone, Blonanserin, they can all suppress hallucinations."

Dr. Sherman rubbed his temples. "Ms. Ravenshire, you're putting me in a difficult position. A doctor cannot simply prescribe medication to a healthy patient. With all due respect, your current paranoia is truly dangerous. If you keep this up, you might actually manifest an illness even if you don't have one. Rest assured, I will have a serious talk with Mr. Ravenshire and explain what your true needs are."

Aurelia looked confused. "My true needs?"

"You have a deep yearning for love and attention."

Aurelia shook her head, her emotions suddenly surging. "That's not true! I'm not faking an illness just to get my dad's attention. I truly..." Her voice tapered off into a whisper. "I truly can't control it."

Just like right now. She was furious, yet she still couldn't stop herself from finding excuses for the doctor in front of her. Perhaps he was right; she shouldn't be making things difficult for him. If the hospital found out he recklessly prescribed drugs, he could lose his job.

But...

Why did she always have to think of everyone else? Who was going to think about her?

Aurelia shook her head, desperately trying to throw off these thoughts. Yet the harder she struggled, the guiltier she felt. Self-blame and condemnation multiplied, suffocating her in a wave of despair.

As with every previous battle, she ended up defeated.

Aurelia stood up, her face awash with guilt. "I'm sorry. I was being too unreasonable. I promise this will be the last time." With that, she walked out of the room, her expression blank.

In the narrow, dimly lit corridor, she walked alone. Her silhouette looked so fragile, as if she were about to shatter into a million pieces.

She walked very slowly, as though every step carried the desire to stop, yet she never did.

Vivienne replied, "Why else would I be here? To see a doctor, obviously." With a sharp side-eye, she brushed past him and walked into his office.

Dr. Sherman stood there dumbfounded. Just as he was about to follow her, a realization hit him. He looked down at his own name tag. When he walked out, his back had been to her. How did she know his name?

"Are you coming in or not?"

Dr. Sherman's expression grew even more perplexed. He carried his mug back to his desk. "Ms... Ms. Blackthorne, do you know what my specialty is?"

Vivienne nodded. "Yes."

Dr. Sherman looked highly skeptical. "Then please, tell me about your problem."

Vivienne leaned back in her chair, exuding absolute confidence. "I'll be blunt. I'm sick. Mentally ill."