Paul Gable - Tortured daughter

As she walked through the brightly lit corridor back to her little room, she saw several girls limping along the corridor, their eyes averted, their heads bowed slightly. They were in the beginnings of the treatment program. Cindy smiled secretly to herself, stepping into her tiny cell and looking at the meager furnishings. Oh, how she was going to come back, come back like Judy, a real alcohol abuser. Had her friend recovered from the electric shock treatment? Did Cindy really care? Well, Dr. Endicott seemed to have some effect on her after all. Cindy had her to thank for her new-found capacity to be honest about how she felt, and for giving her the confidence she needed to express herself sexually. Her parents' ability to hide and shelter their daughter from life was over. It had been their mistake to send her here for a booze treatment she didn't need. And now they would have to live with their error.

Picking up her clothes and packing them neatly back into the small blue suitcase, Cindy smiled. Yes, she'd be back here one way or the other, either as patient or perhaps as a volunteer. Yes, she must talk to Dr. Endicott about something like that before her parents came. How noble it sounded, Cindy volunteering her spare time for the benefit of others here at the institute. Smiling more broadly, the young blonde teen packed her suitcase quickly.