The untitled SWPB story

I woke up with a MAJOR head-ache. The room I was in was to bright. I squinted my eyes. I was vaugely aware of a sobbing sound coming from the right of me. I turned to look, to find a woman who looked like she's been to hell. "Why are you crying?" I asked. My voice sounded like fingernails clawing a chalk bored. She looked up, "THANK GOD YOUR ALRIGHT!" She hugged me. I winced in pain. "OH! Sorry hun," she let me go. "I was just so happy that your alive." I was "Not to be rude or anything, but do I know you?" I asked her in a daze after I got my breath back. She blushed and then laughed. "Oops, how embarrassing. No you don't.My names star. I was the one who called the cops on your father. The horrid man." A look of distaste crossed her features. "Why I went with him in the first place is beyond me. I guess it was a sign for mee to save you." She stopped her speech and looked thoughtful for a moment. She was about to speak again when the door was pushed open and a tall, stiff-looking man in a white lab coat cake in. He glanced at the woman before talking. "Ah miss Von Faith, I see your finally awake." I laughed quietly at the ryhme he made. He just looked at me strangely. "Surprisingly, despite the fact that he hit you so hard all you have are a few bruises. You'll be free to go in a couple of hours." I sighed, relieved that I din;t have to stay here ffor a long time. The man doctor started to speak again. "I'll be glad to report your stabability to the guards so they can take you back home to pack." I looked up at him confuzed. "Why do I have to pack?" I asked him. He looked at me with, sympathy? "Your being place in St. Galla's." "WHAT!" I practically shouted. St Galla's was a mental institution, a nut house, bedlam, insane asylum. I was not insane. "Calm down sugar," Star said uneasily. The relieved feeling that I had with her vanished instantly. "I'M NOT INSANE!" I shouted. "But the things your father put your through, it's only a couple of days. Incase you have a meltdown." The doctor said. "NO! I WILL NOT BE PUT INTO A PLACE FOR THE MENTALLY ILL!" The only genetic I got from my father (thankfully) was his yell. And boy I'd hate to be the one on the other side of it. I would know. "I knew we should of had them pack your things for you." He sighed as he pulled out a needle filled with some kind of clear liquid. He pricked me in the arm and injected the liquid. I began to feel woozy. For the second time in two days, my world turned black.